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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

stars in the sk(eyes)

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Janus, Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, background Intrualiceit Warnings: Language, food, like 1 line that’s maybe suggestive but also said half-jokingly Word count: 5592

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My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

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Summary: Logan has always loved stars. Virgil has always loved music. Maybe they can put those together with a little help from some friends.

Notes: Day 2 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. Patton, Janus, and Remus are all nonbinary folks who use he/they pronouns and masculine terms in this universe (but in the flashback scene, Janus is only using they/them); Roman, Logan, and Virgil are all men who use he/him. (I know absolutely nothing about music or concerts or anything, so please don't roast me too hard for any inaccuracies, lol.)

They were only opening the concert; the real attraction was a band from out of town with a midsize following, making a stop on their tour. Not that Virgil was complaining to have landed this gig. It would be the biggest performance his band—the band he, Janus, and the twins had formed a few years ago—had given, by a lot. And that was exciting. Sure, Virgil had absolutely spent hours stressing over how big it was, but he knew how to manage his anxiety, especially when it came to performances, and the anxiety didn’t stop the excitement.

“You’re going to do wonderfully,” Logan had told him earlier that day as he’d been getting dressed, passing his fingerless leather gloves and then holding his jacket for him to slide into. He’d spoken it with a simple, unassuming confidence, as if it were a given fact. It had been more comforting than Virgil thought Logan knew.

With the memory of his husband’s words carefully nestled against his heart, and the jacket Logan had helped him paint rainbow stripes on sitting on his shoulders, Virgil found it easier to let go of the anxiety. Some lingering tension remained as he paced backstage, running through lyrics in his head and triple checking that everyone knew the schedule, but it wasn’t as bad as usual. Most of it, if he was being honest with himself, wasn’t even about the performance—it was about the surprise the band had put together, the surprise Virgil had had to bite his tongue a couple of times to keep himself from thoughtlessly mentioning it to Logan, even though the surprise had been almost entirely his own idea and the others were just helping. But he’d successfully kept the secret, and now Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and there would be no more chances to spoil it.

But Logan was out in the audience, and Virgil was backstage, and the final round of jitters was setting in. And when Logan wasn’t there, Virgil’s jitters took the form of pestering the hell out of everyone in the room, to make sure everything was perfect.

He checked all the instruments, giving Janus’s keyboard a once-over without touching because he knew better by this point. Remus’s drumset was already on the stage—he was drumming with his fingers on the end of the fallout table in the corner—so there was nothing to do about that. Roman was actively tuning his guitar, so Virgil left that alone too and instead checked his bass, just in case it had gotten out of tune in the last thirty seconds.

All of the instruments were fine, great, even, and Remus and Roman were undeniably being productive; Janus, who’d been on their phone in the corner, had stepped out for just a moment, probably to get a drink of water or something.

Things were in order. Which was good. Great, even. But it gave Virgil nothing to do with his restless energy.

“Are we ready?” he asked, jiggling his leg and tracing the pattern of his fishnet tights through one of the large rips in his jeans.

Roman looked up. “Yes,” he said shortly. Roman’s nerves tended to take the form of a very short temper, which didn’t mix well with Virgil’s perfectionism.

“Yeah,” Remus agreed, running a hand through his dark green curls and straightening his denim jacket.

“We all know the order things go in?” Virgil followed up after a minute of tense silence.

“Mmhm,” Remus said easily. Remus, and Remus alone, somehow always managed to remain at ease and unbothered no matter what. Virgil didn’t know how they did it.

Virgil took stock of everyone’s outfits. He himself was wearing fishnet leggings that went all the way up past his waist. Over them he had ripped black skinny jean, and a black crop top splattered with white paint. On top of that, he wore his black denim jacket, which matched the ones the other three were wearing. Virgil’s had the rainbow pride flag painted on the front, all down the lapel area; the rest of the jacket was covered in patches. He checked his makeup, examining the black eyeshadow and lipstick in his phone’s camera; it looked fine. Perfect, even.

Roman was the neatest of the group, made to stand out as the lead singer. He wore the same high-heeled doc martens as the other three, but in white where theirs were all black. He had a tight white longsleeve shirt made of a shimmery material and a matching pair of white pants, and the black jacket contrasting nicely against it all. Roman’s jacket had the aromantic pride flag where Virgil had the rainbow, and the rest of his jacket was painted with red roses all at the ends of long, intricate, thorny stems. His eyeliner was sharp enough to cut, and his curly hair was piled up atop a black headband wrapped around his forehead like a crown.

Janus still wasn’t back, but he’d been on the neater end too, to counter Virgil and especially Remus’s scruffiness. Their outfit was sleek and all black save for a thin white belt around their waist. A black hat with a broad round brim framed their face like a dark halo. His jacket had nonbinary and pan stripes on the front, and thin white squiggly lines running up and down like warped pinstripes everywhere else. (Virgil knew where on the jacket one line ended in a tiny snake head, and where one trailed off into a tail, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew to look.) They were wearing black lipstick to match Virgil, and winged eyeliner to match Roman, and contour that emphasized the sharpness of his cheekbones; definitely the heaviest makeup of the group.

Remus, sitting in the corner and making noises to themself, was a sharp contrast to his boyfriend Janus’s sleek elegance. His black jeans, splattered with white paint to match Virgil’s crop top, were ripped almost to shreds, open nearly entirely from mid-thigh down to his ankles, with only a few clinging strands of fabric keeping them anywhere in the realm of being pants. The tee they wore—black again, with his own name painted on it in large white letters—was also ripped full of holes, these ones much more deliberate; he’d slashed it carefully with an exacto knife, kneeling on the ground and focusing with their tongue stuck out slightly, until it was exactly how he wanted it and you could catch glimpses of their top surgery scars when they moved. His makeup consisted of dramatic green and black eyeshadow, and his jacket had the trans and polyamorous flags on it—he and Janus, who had nearly identical collections of pride flags between them, had split two and two which color schemes they wanted to use. The rest of Remus’s jacket consisted of a few jagged holes and some incredibly detailed paintings of green tentacles.

The instruments were fine. The costumes were fine. The makeup was fine. What else did that leave for Virgil to fret over as the final minutes ticked away?

“How about the blocking?” Virgil said. “We can go over it again if anyone—”

“I promise we know, Virge,” Roman snapped.

“Come on, kiddo, you know he’s just trying to help!” piped up Patton, Janus and Remus’s other boyfriend, who was suddenly somehow present and sitting in Janus’s lap, his pastel outfit completely out of place amidst the varying edgy styles everyone else in the room was sporting.

“How did you get back here?” Roman and Virgil demanded in unison. Virgil hadn’t even noticed Janus was back, let alone that he’d brought Patton, who was supposed to be in the audience with Logan until the performance was over.

“Oops,” Janus said, not sounding even a tiny bit remorseful as they played with Patton’s dark curls.

“Did you leave Logan alone?” Virgil demanded of Patton, hands on his hips.

“Only for a minute! He’s getting snacks, anyway,” Patton said, wrapping his arms around Janus’s neck. “We both know where our seats are, he’ll be fine.”

“You already have a partner backstage, stop being greedy,” Roman scolded Janus. “Patton, you know we need to focus right now, can you please not distract my horny bandmates until after the show?”

“You sound like Virgil, with all that worrywarting,” Remus commented, snickering.

“Take that back this instant!” Roman demanded as Virgil gave Remus double birds.

Remus only guffawed, looking incredibly amused.

“Seriously, though, uh, Patton, with all the love in my heart: get out,” Virgil said.

Patton wrinkled his nose, but pressed a warm smack of a kiss to Janus’s cheek and hopped to his feet.

“Do I get a kiss?” Remus asked, reaching his arms out hopefully.

“Makeup—” Roman began warningly.

“I haven’t got any on my mouth!” Remus said triumphantly. “Suck it, Jan.”

Janus smiled wryly, fingers rising to but not quite touching their black lipstick that Patton had avoided so carefully. “The prices I pay for beauty.”

Patton giggled, crossing to Remus, clasping both his hands, and leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

“Great, you’re very very cute together but now is not the time, Patton get out and stop distracting your boyfriends,” Roman said, shooing Patton towards the door.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “High strung much?”

“Not all of us possess your—your stupid coolheadedness powers, Remus!” Roman snapped.

Patton paused in the doorway and pointed at Roman, getting out his dad voice. “Hey. Be nice.” The finger moved to Virgil. “Be nice.” His eyes flicked to Remus, then Janus, and his voice shifted to a different tone, half flirty and half joking. “You two be good boys.”

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god, I said to stop being horny!” Roman shrieked, chasing a giggling Patton out of the room and down the hall. He returned moments later, Patton-less and fixing at his hair to make sure it wasn’t too messy. “We had better not have any more alloromantic bullshit from any of you until after the show is over!” he announced. “Okay?” He didn’t sound quite as annoyed as before.

“Homophobia,” Remus accused teasingly.

But instead of snapping back, Roman giggled. “Oh, shut up.”

The twins began joking back and forth, Janus making the occasional amused interjection. Evidently Patton’s intrusion into the room, although technically unhelpful, had done wonders to break the tension, and Virgil reminded himself to thank Patton later.

Virgil’s phone buzzed with a text from Logan.

Logan: Patton found me, don’t worry. Logan: How are you doing?

Virgil: hahahahahaaaa i don’t wanna think abt it

Logan began typing, then the little bubble went away; a second later, the phone began to ring, Logan’s caller ID plain to see.

“Hi, babe,” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, dear. Would you like to walk me through your plan for the performance, to reassure yourself?”

Virgil let out a small sigh of relief. “Yes, please.”

“I am listening,” Logan assured him.

Virgil took a deep breath and launched into a detailed itinerary, knowing that Logan didn’t mind if he got a little too technical in his terminology because Logan was listening for Virgil’s sake.

“And then that’s about it,” Virgil wound down, carefully leaving off the final item from his explanation. It wouldn’t do to spoil the surprise now. “Oh, looks like we’re getting ready now, gotta go.”

“I love you,” Logan said quickly. “You’re going to do a wonderful job.”

Virgil let out a short laugh. “Thanks, L. Love you too.” He hung up, set his phone down on the table, and picked up his bass.

“You ready?” Roman asked, nudging Virgil with his elbow, as the group finally headed towards the stage.

Virgil sucked in a long breath. “Yeah. I think so. Are you?”

“Oh, you know it!” Roman grinned, a spring in his step. He paused after a second and glanced back to Virgil. “Sorry for being so wound up earlier.”

“It happens.” Virgil shrugged. “Right back at you.”

Roman nodded and put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “Hey. He’s going to love it. Just wait and see.”

Virgil looked away, half smiling. “I sure hope so.”

“He will, I know it!” Roman insisted as they climbed the steps onto the stage and emerged into what could practically have been the eye of a hurricane, for all the noise and light that surrounded the stage.

The sky above was fully dark; bright lights everywhere in the area contrasted against it. There was a decent crowd. The venue seemed almost full, as a matter of fact. The observation added a thrill of adrenaline to compliment the goosebumps from the chilly breeze across Virgil’s bare midriff.

Roman stepped forward and spread his arms wide right as the spotlights came up. “Hey, folks, thank you for being with us here tonight!” he said, his smile gleaming in the bright lights and his voice booming in the speakers. “We have some great hits lined up for you tonight! Let’s get it started, huh?”

Virgil waited a few seconds for the cheer of the crowd to peak. Janus began the melody on the keyboard; Virgil came in with his bass at exactly the same second Roman began to sing, and Remus picked up the beat on the drums on cue.

Virgil was quickly able to get lost in the music, all his focus on playing and providing backup vocals, leaving him with no more brain space for his anxiety. This was his favorite thing about music: its ability to keep him in the moment.

They played three songs. Two covers that always went over really well, and one song that the twins had written together about family that always left Roman just a little teary. Normally that would be their closing song.

But tonight was a little bit different.

Roman took a step back, nodding at Virgil; the pair of them traded places onstage, putting Virgil front and center.

“So,” Virgil said, the mic on his cheek picking up his words, “we were thinking we’d let you all be the first to hear our new song. Uh, I wrote this one. And normally Roman does our singing, because—well, you’ve heard his voice. But this song is kind of special. I wrote it for my husband. So. We thought I’d perform it tonight.”

As Janus began playing the melody, Virgil searched the front row of the crowd, squinting against the lights, until he found Logan, sitting next to Patton and gazing up at Virgil with shining eyes. “Lo, I love you so much, babe. More than every star you’ve ever shown me.” He took a deep breath and began to sing.

***

10 years earlier

Unknown Number: Hello. This is Janus. Logan’s roommate

Virgil: how’d u get this number?

Janus: I broke into Logan’s phone after you started dating and saved you to my contacts just in case

[read 3:43pm}

[3:46pm]

Virgil: i Virgil: wtf dude

Janus: Your boyfriend has been moping in his room all day, can you please come fix it? Janus: Roman is starting to mope too for no good reason, but he’s doing it in the living room and at this point it is starting to affect my quality of life

Virgil: yk i literally could not care less abt that part u asshole <3 Virgil: i’ll be over in 15 Virgil: is he ok?

Janus: He won’t talk to me, I don’t know what happened

Virgil: i’ll be over in 10

It was normally a 12-minute walk from the dorm Virgil was an RA in to Logan’s apartment just off campus, but Virgil could walk fast when he was anxious or alone, and in this case he was both. Even taking the time to grab a jacket, he still made it to the building in nine minutes flat.

Janus let Virgil into the apartment almost the second he knocked, relief plain to see on their face.

“You see?” Janus said over their shoulder in a scolding tone. “I had to resort to outside measures to deal with your bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Roman whined from where he was slumped on the couch, scrolling aimlessly through Netflix on the TV.

“Oh? And what’s this?” Janus demanded, hands on their hips. They dramatically pushed the button to open the microwave door, revealing a limp burrito wrapped in a damp paper towel.

“Lunch,” Roman mumbled defensively.

“You hate microwave food, and it’s four in the afternoon!” Janus snapped.

“I am in a creative slump, Jan! Have some sympathy!”

“No! Get your whiny ass off the couch and stop ruining my afternoon!”

Virgil took a deep breath and pointedly walked in between the pair of them down the hall towards Logan’s room. Roman and Janus’s still-bickering voices faded into the background.

“Hey.” Virgil knocked on the door, which had a piece of printer paper taped to it with Logan’s name written on it in blue sharpie and a couple of stars, both scribbles and stickers, scattered around it. He waited, and when there was no reply, he added, “Are you okay, Lo?”

“I’m fine,” Logan said, in a voice that had obviously been crying.

“Can I come in?” Virgil asked.

“Okay.”

Virgil pushed open the door and stepped into the dim room, closing it behind him. The blinds were closed, and Logan was curled up under a mound of blankets.

“Hey, baby,” Virgil murmured, kicking off his shoes and climbing to sit on the bed beside Logan and stroke his hair. “What’s wrong?”

Logan made a muffled noise of misery into the mattress.

“What?” Virgil said after a moment.

Logan rolled over. “Teacher didn’t like my essay.”

Virgil chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. “Okay, I promise I’m not making fun of you, but you do know that that is possibly the most stereotypically you thing you have ever said to me, right?”

Logan let out a little huff that was not quite a laugh. “I guess.” He was silent for a moment as Virgil continued to stroke his hair. “And I know it’s stupid. I still got a B+ and my overall grade in the class is fine and I know I’m a good writer and everything. But it sucks. I was really proud of it.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Virgil said, choosing to ignore the squirm in his gut that always happened when grades came up. It was so easy to compare or to worry about others comparing and then to worry about others getting upset over comparisons and—he dragged himself back to the present, forcibly setting the issue aside. “You’re allowed to feel upset,” he told Logan. “About anything that upsets you. Even if you wouldn’t choose it.”

Logan didn’t respond, but after a minute his hand snaked out from under the covers and grasped Virgil’s.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Virgil asked, struck with the idea.

“Huh?”

“A walk. Get out of your head for a little bit and hang out. We can talk if you want, or just be together.”

Roman’s voice grew particularly loud outside, and Virgil picked out a teary, petulant, “I hate you!”

“Plus it’ll get you away from that energy,” he added wryly.

Logan drew in a breath and sat up. “Alright. Let’s do it.” He pulled out a denim jacket while Virgil put his shoes back on and retied the laces. They made their way out of the apartment, hand in hand.

Roman was on his feet now, releasing an angry tirade at Janus, hands clenched into fists and sounding on the verge of crying, the TV remote cast on the floor beside him. Janus was sitting on the kitchen counter with arms crossed and an intimidating glare on their face.

“Hey!” Virgil snapped, and Roman cut off abruptly. “Eat some food,” Virgil told him on a hunch. Sure, Roman could be a little immature at times, but this was on a whole different level, and a lack of food seemed like the simplest culprit.

Virgil looked over at Janus, to make it clear that they weren’t off the hook either. “We’re going out. You two better make up before we get back. Clear?”

“You can’t tell us what to do—” Roman began stubbornly.

“Janus literally called me in to fix all your problems, so yeah. I can. Also open your windows, it’s gloomy as fuck in here.” Virgil opened the door and held it for Logan, tossing one last glare over his shoulder at Roman, who looked dumbstruck, and Janus, who avoided eye contact.

Logan was quiet as the two of them walked down the stairs and exited the apartment building, hands in his pockets (one still clasping Virgil’s) and eyes on the toes of his slip-on shoes.

“Wanna talk?” Virgil asked.

Logan tilted his head to the side for a moment, his thinking face slipping over his features, and then shook his head.

Virgil nodded. “Okay.” He fished in his pocket for his earbuds and plugged them in. “Let me know if that changes, okay?” He received a small nod and turned on his go-to playlist—a 12-and-a-half-hour-long composition of all his favorite emo songs that he could loop without having to put any thought in.

The two of them wandered through the streets, hand in hand, music blaring in Virgil’s ears and Logan’s fingers soft and warm against his. They made their way towards downtown; their university was in a small city, and it was pretty walkable.

As they walked, weaving around and across different blocks, occasionally stopping to peek into particularly interesting shop windows, the tension in Logan’s shoulders slowly began to relax and his gaze migrated from the toes of his shoes upwards to take in the surrounding scenery. Virgil felt himself relaxing in turn. The subdued, almost sullen look on Logan’s face was beginning to shift back to his typical bright-eyed curiosity, which meant that while maybe not all was right with the world, a whole lot was right with the world.

As the sky began to darken, Logan’s pace quickened with sudden purpose—but he didn’t lead Virgil in the direction of the apartment. Instead, he headed in almost the exact opposite direction. Virgil was lost for a moment as to where they were going, until the park in the center of downtown came into view. Ah. That explained it. He was kind of glad; he didn’t feel ready for the quiet time they were spending together to be over.

A scent caught his attention as they entered the park, and he tugged gently at Logan’s arm, nodding towards the mediterranean food truck. A small smile answered him, and a nod, and the pair of them made their way over. They both ordered gyros—Virgil chicken, and Logan, who was trying out vegetarian food, falafel.

Fifteen minutes later, seated side by side on a park bench and finishing the last of their sandwiches, Logan cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

Virgil bumped his shoulder against his boyfriend’s. “Of course, babe.”

“I am feeling… better,” Logan said cautiously, as if he were testing out the words in his mouth to see if they felt true.

Virgil nodded. “Better is good.”

Logan nodded, eyes moving to the sky, which was now almost fully dark except for a streak of orange sunset leftover on the horizon. The stars were out, at least the brightest ones that could be seen even past the floodlights placed every so often across the park.

“You like space, and shit, right?” Virgil said, scooting closer to Logan and dragging his arm to wrap around Virgil as he rested his head on Logan’s shoulder. It was a bit of a rhetorical question, since he knew Logan had an astronomy minor and was the vice president of the astronomy club and had gone on no less than three eager rambles about space in the last month alone, but one could always do with a conversation opener.

Logan blinked and looked down at him. “I do.” You know this, his tone said, a little puzzled at the question.

“What star is that?” Virgil pointed at a particularly bright one, although he wasn’t paying nearly as much attention to the star as he was to Logan’s face.

Sure enough, Logan brightened, his eyes more interesting than any star. “Oh! That’s not a star at all—it’s actually Mercury!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, grinning and scooting closer.

Logan wrapped his arm a little more tightly around Virgil’s shoulders with an answering smile. “Yes, and it’s actually very fascinating…” And just like that, he was off, words spilling out of his mouth at a breakneck pace, gesturing eagerly with his free hand to emphasize his points.

Virgil listened, doing his best to follow along and asking a few questions whenever Logan started to wind down, but mostly just happy to watch his boyfriend’s lips as he excitedly infodumped, and his eyes, too, alight with delight, the frustration of the disappointing grade all but forgotten as he held Virgil and told him stories about the night sky.

It was nearly ten at night by the time they made their way back to Logan’s apartment, chatting back and forth in quiet voices and giggling. Logan broke off as he opened the door and got a look inside; he glanced over his shoulder at Virgil and put a finger to his lips.

Virgil hushed and followed him in, then saw what the need for quiet was: Janus and Roman were asleep on the sofa, Roman sprawled on his stomach on top of Janus with his limbs everywhere and his face buried in Janus’s chest, Janus with their arms wrapped around him and a throw pillow propping their head up and a worn copy of Crime and Punishment flopped over from where it had clearly been propped up on Roman’s back.

“Precious,” Virgil commented softly as Logan picked up the book, tucked a bookmark off the coffee table into it, and set it down with the tender care he seemed to reserve exclusively for books and Virgil.

Logan smiled. “They are, rather.” He looked down at his roommates. “Sometimes I wonder why I picked the two most dramatic people I know to live with.”

“Sometimes like this afternoon?” Virgil said with a chuckle.

Logan snorted. “Maybe. But then they do things like this, and I remember why I like them.”

Virgil noticed something on the tiny kitchen table. “Or this?” He pointed.

Logan came over to examine what Virgil had found. “Oh,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his face.

A plate of cookies sat on the table, together with a hastily handmade card.

“Sorry :( ❤️” it read in large, expressive cursive, and beneath it in smaller, neater handwriting, “I actually didn’t do anything wrong, but these are for you and I did the dishes, also you’re welcome for the date night.”

Logan laughed quietly, taking a cookie and offering the plate to Virgil, who accepted one cookie—they looked to be snickerdoodles. “Yes. Things exactly like this,” he said. He took a bite of the cookie and raised his eyebrows. “Not bad.”

Virgil grinned and leaned over to kiss him. “Not bad at all,” he agreed, pulling away.

“I literally gave you your own cookie,” Logan whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

“Yeah, but it tastes better this way.” Virgil winked, mainly for Logan’s reaction—he pressed a hand to his mouth, stifling an amused smile that was still visible in his eyes. “I should go,” Virgil added, glancing at the time. It was Sunday tomorrow, so he didn’t need to worry about how late he was up, but he disliked walking home at night.

Logan nodded, taking another cookie and pressing it into his hand. “Text me when you get home?”

“I always do,” Virgil said, accepting the cookie and a goodnight kiss that still tasted just faintly of cinnamon and sugar.

And he did just that; he always felt a little awkward simply texting “I made it home,” or the like, so he usually tried to come up with interesting questions to send to Logan instead. Tonight, it was:

Virgil: hey Virgil: if u could pick one Thing u always wanted to do Virgil: and get a guarantee that u’d get a chance to do that thing no matter what Virgil: what would u pick?

Logan: Fascinating question! I would like the opportunity to name a star. Logan: I don’t imagine it will ever happen in real life, but I’ve always thought it would be�� cool, for lack of a better word.

Virgil: ghfdkjghksdhj i will never be over ur love for space Virgil: u have a Brand and u stick to it

Logan: Well, a brand is important in life. :-) Logan: What about you? What would you pick?

Virgil: i think it’d be neat to be in a band Virgil: idk Virgil: like i don’t wanna be super famous or anything but like Virgil: being in a band would be neat Virgil: yk?

***

Ten years later, Virgil sang the last lines of his song looking right at his husband. “And I don’t even need to look to the skies/Because all of the stars are in your eyes.”

The noise around him didn’t fade away like in the movies; to the contrary, the cheering was so loud it was almost hard to focus. But Logan’s face was absolutely alight—Virgil couldn’t be sure at this distance, but he thought Logan might even be tearing up—and he was looking at Virgil like he was his whole world. Even with the bright lights and overwhelming sounds all around, it was easy to focus on Logan in the midst of it all, Logan pressing a hand to his mouth but smiling too wide for anything to hide it, Logan leaning into the side-hug that Patton—oh, and there was Patton, right beside him—was offering, but never taking his eyes off Virgil. Logan looked so happy, even though Virgil knew concerts weren’t really his favorite type of event, and Virgil was hit right in the chest with a renewed realization that Logan was Virgil’s whole world and damn, Virgil wanted to make sure everyone knew it.

But their time onstage was up, and the next few minutes were a bustle of packing equipment away and cleaning up the space they’d been allotted backstage, and it all went by in a bit of a blur, helped along by the remnants of Virgil’s performance mindset and slight overstimulation—though that was getting better now that he was offstage.

Virgil took a quick break, when the bulk of the urgent work was done, to just stand in the empty restroom and breathe for a moment, the noise of the other band who were now onstage thudding in the background so quietly he could hardly hear it. When he’d fully composed himself, feeling much calmer, he took a deep breath and headed back out.

On his way out, he ran into Roman, pushing a dolly with a box on it. “Oh, good, there you are,” he greeted Virgil. “Can you—oh, for crying out loud,” he broke off, looking ahead.

Following his gaze, Virgil snickered as he saw Remus, leaning against the wall with their hands clasped behind his head, grinning down at Patton, who was leaned forward, bracketing Remus with his arms, looking up at him and speaking, although Virgil couldn’t hear him from here.

“We still have work to do,” Roman said under his breath, but the exasperated gaze he leveled at the pair was altogether far too fond to have much real bite.

Virgil’s mind was on other matters; if Patton was here, that meant—

“Lolo!” Patton’s voice called brightly; he’d seen Roman and Virgil and stepped back from Remus, waving happily at the pair of them. “Virgil’s here!”

At the sound of Patton’s voice, Janus emerged from the room, a little further down the hall, that had served as the headquarters for the band. He bent to give the tiny man a kiss, then turned to Remus for another kiss.

Logan popped his head out just a moment behind Janus. “Virgil?” He brightened when he saw Virgil’s face, and stepped fully out into the hall. He hadn’t changed from his work outfit, still wearing a button down with the sleeves rolled up, a tie, and a pair of jeans, and a smile that he looked like he couldn’t wipe off his face.

He was still the handsomest man Virgil had ever seen.

Virgil looked to Roman. “Permission to get back on my alloromantic bullshit, captain?” he asked teasingly.

Roman rolled his eyes and swatted Virgil’s shoulder. “Go be cute,” he said benignly.

Virgil took off down the hallway to Logan, not quite running; Logan took a few steps to meet him, and Virgil caught him in a hug so eager he actually lifted the taller man off his feet for just a second.

Logan, half-laughing with surprise, grasped Virgil’s shoulders for balance as he regained his feet. “You wrote me a song?”

“Did you like it?” Virgil asked, holding him tightly.

“Virgil, I—” Logan seized Virgil’s face in his hands and kissed him.

Virgil wrapped his arms more firmly around his husband, kissing him back exuberantly and swaying slightly back and forth.

“It’s perfect,” Logan told him, breaking away only just far enough to speak. “You’re perfect.”

Virgil grinned, reaching up to run his fingers through Logan’s neat hair. “Careful, you’ll spoil me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that,” Logan told him seriously. “It’s not spoiling if you deserve it.”

And really, what was Virgil supposed to do about that except kiss his husband again?

56 notes · View notes

smoochkooks · 5 years ago

Text

—make it right 1 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jung hoseok/reader

⟶ genre: smut (coming in second part!), angst, fluff

⟶ word count: 19k+ (this part)

⟶ tags/warnings for part one: hip hop dancer!hoseok/drummer!hoseok, ballerina!reader, enemies to friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slowburn, mutual pinning, sexual tension, course language, drinking, hoseok’s hot bandmates, oc rolling her eyes at hoseok every five seconds, some banter and sarcasm, etc.

⟶ summary: he was a punk, she did ballet, avril lavigne sings, but truth to be told, there’s so much more than meets the eye about jung hoseok besides his drums, killer dancing skills and unexplained hatred for tattoos and piercings. because, under the layers of leather jackets and washed out joy division shirts, he’s still just a boy who tries to find his place in this big world.

or, alternatively: ballerina meets certain hip hop dancer slash musician who’s on a mission to win her heart with coffee dates and drumming lessons.

⟶ read second (and final) part here

The first time you met Jung Hoseok, it was raining.

September had just begun, welcoming the citizens of Seoul with copious amounts of not-so-summer-like weather. And at this point, after three days of non-stopping rainfalls, you were convienced that mother nature was trying to drown the whole city.

It was Saturday afternoon, last remains of August were still in the air, hidden underneath greish clouds covering the whole sky. That didn’t seem to be any problem for the tourists though, emerging from every single corner with smartphones glued to their hands.

You were running late for your ballet dance teaching class with an umbrella in one hand and your gym bag in another, maneuvering between puddles in white trainers, praying to whatever gods that existed not to soak them through and cursing yourself for constant bad outfit choices when it came to weather. Scorching hot afternoon with friends? Let's wear something black, your brain would suggest. Rainstorm? White converse highs is a great idea!

Your mother would choke you with bare hands probably if she saw you right now.

On your way to the studio, you bumped into some old lady carrying bags of groceries. You threw quick apologies, ignoring the screams of “watch out!’’ along with deathly glares that other people were sending in your direction you, until you finally reached your destination. Exactly five minutes before the time.

Just Dance dance school, located approximately twenty-five minutes long underground ride from your flat (which as a broke college student you highly appreciated), appeared in front of your eyes.

It was a modern building, situated in a part of the city that smelled like soy sauce and burnt meat, but during four months you had been working there you got used to it. There was a nail salon on the first floor and tailor on the second, but the whole third floor belonged to the school.

You started working there on Fridays and Saturdays a while ago, after completely coincidentally stumbling upon an offer found online. The school was looking for someone who could teach kids ballet on weekends. A young, energetic person with experience and, obviously, great patience and sympathy for children.

The only thing you were lacking of was background in teaching. But the manager, Choi Jisoo, did not mind that at all. A row of gold medals and trophies sitting on your shelves was enough to convince her you’re worth giving a chance on a probationary period. After few weeks of proving your skills as the best ballet teacher miss Choi would ever think of, you had got in.

And that was how you dumped your part time job at the petrol station to teach kids at Just Dance twice a week. Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons for a decent amount of money for a college student struggling with real life shit called university fees and rent, that even scholarship couldn’t entirely underwrite.

Now, climbing up the stairs with the speed of light, you knew you couldn’t bring yourself to lose this job because of your silly daytime nap that made you run late for classes.

You bursted into the locker rooms quickly, practically undressing in a hurry. After short examination in front of the mirror and fixing your usual mess of a bun, you spared a quick glance one last time at the clock. Four minutes of delay.

“Fuck!” you muttered to yourself, jogging to the practice room.

The halls, usually quite, now were filled with child-like chatter and bubbling. You frowned. That's strange, you thought to yourself. Your astonishment grew even bigger when you reached your destination, spotting a group of kids, your kids, in front of the practice room, bickering with each other.

“Hey!’’ you shouted, silencing them effectively. “Why aren't you already warming up and stretching inside?”

One of the kids, a little girl named Jiyho, stepped forward. “The room is occupied by some other group, miss. They were here when we came.” she said.

You raised your eyebrows. Did you perhaps messed up schedules and forgot there were some changes? No, that couldn’t be it. “What do you mean ‘occupied’?” you asked. “That's impossible, we've been having this classes every week here, in this room, for three months. I would know if there were any changes.”

Kids looked at you helplessly, shrugging their shoulders.

You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, of course it's not your fault. I had a really crappy day and now this,’’ you drawled, pointing your hand at the door to the practice room. “Wait here. I’m gonna try to explain this quickly.’’ you added, smiling reassuringly at them.

When you opened the door, loud music filled your ears; some newest Drake's track you couldn’t remember the name of was playing from the speakers. Inside there was a group of kids, slightly older than the ones you were teaching, practing some hip-hop choreography.

Their teacher's back was facing you so you couldn’t distinguish if it was someone you knew from the school's crew. His dark hair with blonde highlights weren't familiar to you though. He was swaying to the rhythm of the music, counting the moves.

You cleared your throat loudly and there was no response. Of course no one could have heard you, not over the loud bass blasting through the speakers. You spotted the cause of your problem, a mobile phone charging in the corner of the room, so you went there and turned off the music entirely just before Drake could sing the chorus.

You cleared your throat again and this time everyone, including the dance teacher, heard you without a doubt.

Kids stopped dancing immediately and turned around, wide-eyed with heaving chests. Their teacher looked in your direction too, and now you were sure he had to be a new employee.

He was not much older than you, probably around your age. There was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead he wiped out with the back of his hand, his white t-shirt with the name of some punk rock band you didn't recognize was slightly sticking to his toned chest. He was good looking, you couldn’t deny that, and there was something devilish in the way he eyed your figure up and down with a smirk plastered on his lips.

You almost blushed under his gaze.

“Is there any problem, miss primaballerina?’’ he asked first, not even hiding his mocking tone.

You straightened up, ignoring his choice of words. “A problem?” you scoffed. “You and your group took the room where I have my classes every Friday and Saturday, so yeah, there is a problem.”

“The room was empty when I came here, so I just took it, it's not a big deal.” he answered, shrugging his shoulders.

“It is a big deal. Are you blind? This room is made directly for ballet dances. See this thing beside the wall?” You pointed behind him. “It's called barre. We used that for stretching in ballet. Of course you don't know that, how an ignorant hip-hop choreographer wanna be like you would know.” you snorted, chuckling to yourself.

In the corner of your eye you saw your kids peeking through the door, clearly interested in this unusual situation.

He narrowed his eyes. “I know what this is used for, princess,” he countered. You rolled your eyes at the pet name he used for you. First primaballerina and now this? Touché. “But I still don't see the point of your outburst.”

You were slowly losing your patience. The amusement in the eyes of his dancing group started to get on your nerves. It was a battle for the life and death and you weren’t used to backing away and losing. You had kids to take care of, rent to pay and new season of RuPaul's Drag Race to watch.

So you picked up a new strategy.

“Are you perhaps new here?” you asked, startling him.

“I am, why are you asking?”

“Because if you weren't new, you would know that there is only one practice room with barres in our school. This one, which also happens to be the room where I have my ballet classes every week.” you said triumphantly with a glint of not-so subtle satisfaction in your voice. “So, can you kindly take your kids and go somewhere else?”

That's it, you praised yourself in your thoughts. You got him, he doesn’t have anything up his sleeve.

The guy, however, seemed very much unaffected by your words. If anything, he was even more pleased, making your stony facade broke in seconds as you were losing your former confidence.

“No.’’ he said simply.

You gaped at him. “What?”

“I said no, princess. I need ten more minutes to finish this practice and I’m done.’’ he replied, reaching for the water bottle standing beside the wall. “Ten minutes, and you will have your bars or barrels all to yourself.”

You ignored an urge to correct him, taking a few tentative steps until you were right in front of him. He outstanded your height for a few solid centimeters, making you feel even smaller than you already were.

In addition, you hated him even more for looking this good even up close.

“Ten more minutes?! I should have started my lesson fifteen minutes ago! My kids are waiting!” You outstretched your arms in the direction where your group was watching the situation cautiously. They looked like tennis match spectators, turning their heads left and right as the argument progressed.

“So are mine,” he snapped back in calm tone, his lips twitching in an amused smile. Your nostrils flared.

“Miss? We could use another room today. We don't mind.” one of the girls from your group, Jihyo as you assumed, proposed shyly.

“But I do mind! I’m not gonna leave it like that!’’ you said firmly, still looking straight into your new rival's eyes.

“Geez, loosen up your primaballerina skirt a little maybe.”

“It’s called tutu, you ignorant assh–!”

“What on Earth is going on here?” the manager, Choi Jisoo asked, entering the room. She was a middle-aged woman, once a contemporary dancer, now leading the school on behalf of her husband. Her red high heels were clicking loudly on the polished parquet surface as she was coming up in your direction. “I heard shouting, so I came to check. Can someone explain me why aren't you having your classes now?”

You immediately rushed to the manager, taking her hands in yours. “Miss Choi, I will explain everything. This man right here,” You pointed at the cause of your anger with distaste written all over your face and he simply rolled his eyes. “took my practice room and I have no place to have my classes.”

Miss Choi turned to look at the choreographer as well. “Is that true, Hoseok?’’ she asked.

The guy, Hoseok, nodded. “This room was empty, so I just took it. I didn’t know someone was supposed to teach here later.”

You scoffed. “There's a graphic hanging on the wall when you enter the building, you should've just–”

“Silence!” miss Choi said loudly and you stopped speaking, face flushed from the embarrassment of being scolded like that by your boss. “Jung Hoseok is indeed new here, so I will let that situation pass. And you, Y/N, will take another room for today’s practice.”

“But–”

“There's no buts. I’m sure Hoseok will know from now on in which room he should have his dance lessons. Go back to your groups, you are dismissed.” she added and left the room, leaving you to stare at her disappearing figure with wide eyes.

You clenched your fists by your sides, breathing deeply to calm your nerves. “Kids, go to the room 23.” you uttered, eyes focused on Hoseok.

He smirked, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “See you around, princess.” he half-whispered and winked.

Beginnings are always tough, and that was why after your first encounter with Jung Hoseok, you were certain you absolutely, undeniably hated his guts.

The second time you bumped into Jung Hoseok, it was Friday evening two weeks since ‘the accident' and you were walking out of locker rooms after your practice.

When you opened the door and heard strangled cry of “Ah, fuck!” you rushed to blurt out quick apologies to your victim. “Oh my God, I’m so–” you started but immadietly shut your mouth when you saw the person who you just hit.

Jung Hoseok, in his full glory of another The Clash t-shirt (you googled their music your first encounter with him and the only nice think you could say about them was that Jonathan played their song in Stranger Things first season) and yes, grey sweatpants (did he even own other clothes?) was standing before you, grinning in the most annoying way you could ever think of.

You wished you could wipe his smug expression off his face with sand paper.

“Fancy seeing you here too, princess,” he trailed off, leaning against the door and making you roll your eyes like every time you saw him on the halls of Just Dance. Even though you were avoiding him like a plague, he seemed to appear wherever you were. A true pain in the ass.

Maybe you were too stubborn, maybe it was your shitty coping mechanism, but decent conversation with someone like Jung Hoseok wasn’t your favourite part of the day, not after the way you were humiliated in front of your boss and underaged students.

Last week you walked past Hoseok's group and some of them giggled. You could swear they were already making jokes and memes about you behind your back.

And, the worst of it all, an absolute peak of your devastation, was the fact that even your own kids, those who were looking up to you, started to be more reserved around you. Jihyo baked some muffins because she had birthday the other day and didn’t treat you. Jihyo, the girl who once had told you she wanted to be like you in the future.

But none of this anymore.

You turned on your heels and started to walk away but Hoseok followed your footsteps. “Hey, it's rude not to apologize. My right hand hurts now, you know? I need you to kiss it better, princess.” he called, again in the same mocking tone he had used before.

And that was the moment you decided that if choking people to death had been legal, Jung Hoseok would have been already lying dead on the floor.

You ignored his words the best you could, acting like he was invisible. Avoiding the problem wasn’t the best idea you could ever think of, your mum would say but she wasn’t there, so you concluded it was better to act like Hoseok and the situation with practice rooms two weeks ago had never happened.

Hoseok, on the other hand, had very much different outlook on this. “Are you still mad about this thing with practice rooms?’’ he asked, looking at your right profile. You clamped your mouth shut, staring forward. He chuckled. “Christ, I didn't know you're that picky. Are all primaballerinas like this? Right, you are giving me silent treatment, I forgot. But can you please stop and listen what I have to say for a moment?”

After hearing his last words you actually stopped in your tracks, causing Hoseok to do the same.

You sighed heavily. Maybe he was right after all. You were a bitch sometimes, you couldn’t handle the defeats well and above all, you had probably the worst coping mechanism ever.

That was not the end of the world, somebody would say. Don't worry, be happy, Bob Marley would sing if he hadn’t died. Sparing one minute for Jung Hoseok wouldn’t make the ground to open in half underneath you.

“Go on, I’m listening,” you said, choosing casual tone of absolute unbotherness.

Hoseok took a deep breath, before he started speaking. “Listen, I’m sorry about what happened two weeks ago. It wasn’t intentional, I swear. As you know, I’m new here and you can argue or not but people sometimes deserve second chances,” he remarked, observing your reaction. You should stop rolling your eyes at everything that came off his mouth. “So, I thought we can go for, uhm, a coffee maybe? Tomorrow, after our classes.”

You raised your eyebrows, gawking at him.

“It's all on me. As an apology.” Hoseok added sheepishly.

A coffee? With Jung Hoseok? A hip-hop dancer who didn’t know what barre was? You opened your mouth to snap “am I joke to you?” but you stopped eventually.

To be fair, you had nothing to lose. He wanted to apologize after all, he was the first one to approach you and maybe that was how adults should act.

You looked at him once again, more intensely this time, trying to find any sort of fake politeness in his expression. But in his eyes there was nothing but genuineness. Maybe Jung Hoseok really just wanted to treat you in lieu of apology.

Finally, after a minute that seemed to last forever, you softened. “Fine.”

Hoseok's eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Stop staring at me like that or I will change my mind.” you grumbled and he grinned at you boyishly, in the way he probably made people fall for him. Because with that kind of aura he emitted, it was hard not to. Thank God you could easily resist his charms.

“That's settled then. Wait for me after your practice in front of the locker rooms.” he said, while walking away backwards. “See you tomorrow, princess!”

When he disappeared behind the corner, you muttered to yourself, “See you too, asshole.”, adjusting the straps of your gym bag.

It was a good while after that day when you realised that some people really did deserve second chances.

And Jung Hoseok was one of those kind.

Your third meeting with Jung Hoseok was a date. Actually, it wasn’t a date at all. You called it ‘coffee for the peace’. United we stand, divided we fall, they said.

Or to paraphrase Fergie: little coffee never killed nobody.

You found yourself standing in front of the mirror in the locker rooms, eyeing yourself with contorted look. Your hair was a mess, which you blamed the weather for. Even though mother nature stopped bombarding the city with rainfalls, the humidity was still there, lurking around the corners and waiting for the right moment to attack. You didn’t even know why you cared so much about your appearance. It was just a coffee, nothing more, nothing less, for God's sake.

With a sigh, you bent over to tie your shoes, and then you heard a voice coming from behind you. The same low, teasing tone that could only belong to–

“Didn't know you've been hiding this under your ballerina skirt all time,” Hoseok mused. “What a waste.”

You twirled around with a speed of light, facing him with slightly pinkish cheeks. It wasn't everyday that someone non-explicitly talked about your ass, especially someone like him. It wasn’t even on full display because you had your leggings on and you knew he was joking but still, your face felt hotter.

“What are doing here? You aren't supposed to be here, it's ladies locker room!” you hissed.

Hoseok shrugged his shoulders. ��You’ve been here forever, so I decided to check if you didn't slip on your point shoes and died.”

You raised your left eyebrow. “Very funny. Now give me a minute and we can go wherever you want.”

“Watch your words, princess, beacuse I might take your offer seriously.”

He couldn't see you but you rolled your eyes hearing him say this regardless. You took your bag from the porch and turned around to face him with a bored expression written all over your features.

“Don't act like you're doing this as a punishment. You won’t regret, I promise,” After climbing off the stairs, Hoseok opened the door and you embarked on a street. “This place isn't far away from here, just a ten minutes walk.” he explained, choosing a direction you didn’t know.

To distract yourself a little, you started to observe the neighborhood. It was less crowded here, the usual smell from cheap restaurants was less palpable now. You were walking down the street you weren’t familiar with, you hadn’t had a chance to explore it like that yet.

It was dead quiet between you despite the hustle of the city. You weren’t used to this kind of silence and even though you certainly weren’t a master of small-talks, at least you had to try loosen up the heavy atmosphere a little.

“So,” you trailed off, “You seem to know this part of the city pretty well.”

Hoseok hummed, taking another turn that seemed to be some kind of a cutoff. “My old dance school I used to go is here, in this area,” he said. “I moved to the boarding school in Seoul from Gwangju when I was sixteen beacuse I wanted to pursue dancing. My parents weren’t very fond of it, but I told them that high school I chose had a very promising programme for kids who wanted to be business majors in the future as they wanted me to be.”

“And did you do something with that? Business, I mean,” you asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Nah, not really.” He looked like he didn't want to elaborate on that more, so you didn’t press him further. “Enough storytime for now. We're here.”

There you stood in front of a simple coffee shop like many others. Blue Side, signboard said in swirly fonts and English spelling. There was nothing distinctive about it, just an ordinary place you could find in neighborhoods like this in every single city, but you knew places like this one sometimes had living souls inside, telling their own stories.

Blue Side indoors looked exactly like the name was saying: azure walls, paired with modern white chairs and tables, grayish cloths adoring them. Classy, tasteful decor, someone would say, but one thing seemed completely out of place: big, framed pictures of sunflowers, your favourite plants, hanging on the walls like on a blue sky.

There was something bizarre about it, they didn’t match the rest of the decoration at all but at the same time they seemed to fit perfectly. They were bringing strange kind of calmness and halcyon aura to the place, marked with cold tones but broken through the yellow warmth.

Hoseok lead you to the table by the window. There wasn’t a lot of people beside you here, so a young looking waitress with dyed pink hair approached you pretty quickly, handing menus. She grinned broadly at Hoseok, too courteous for your liking, and for a moment you wondered just how many coffees the waitress served him before. Probably a good amount, judging by the way he returned the smile.

You looked through the positions briefly, before deciding on a simple espresso. Hoseok didn’t even open his. Regular customer, you thought to yourself, flesh and bones.

Awkward silence fell between you again and this time Hoseok was the one to break it.

“It's weird seeing you without your ballerina outfit,” he said, startling you. “And your hair isn’t in a bun today,” He pointed at the top of his head, tracing invisible circles in the air.

“Is that a bad thing?’’

Hoseok’s smile was smug when he spoke. “Not at all. You look good like this. Not so dramatic.”

You huffed. “I'm not dramatic.”

“Says the person who almost kicked me and my kids out of the practice room, and called me hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

You opened your mouth to snap a witty response at him but the pink-haired waitress came to collect the orders. Maybe you were losing your mind but you could swear her lips weren't tainted in fuschia before.

“Just an espresso for me,” you said, sending the waitress a forced smile.

“Caramel frappuccino with–” Hoseok started, but the waitress interrupted him.

“With extra cream, got it.” she finished his sentence, clearly proud of herself.

You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress an urge to chuckle. Hoseok sent a polite smile to the girl and averted his gaze to you. The points of his ears were slightly flushed in red.

“So yeah,” he uttered, scartching the back of his neck. “Where were we?”

For a moment you thought about teasing him a little more, but eventually you resigned. He looked enough flustered right now and you’re not that devil as you had thought.

“We were talking about me looking dramatic with a bun and tutu on,” you prompted instead.

“You know that's not what I meant.”

You ignored him. “Anyway, you too don't look today like a hip-hop choreographer wanna be.”

That was true, he didn’t remind you of the sweaty Hoseok in grey sweatpants you were seeing every Friday and Saturday on the halls of Just Dance after blasting Spotify Global Top 50 for a whole hour.

This Hoseok who was sitting in front of you was wearing ripped jeans and leather jacket paired with ankle boots you wouldn’t mind buying for yourself in a smaller size. Daredevil, that was a good word to describe him. Dangerous, daring, and maybe d–yeah, dumbass, your brain suggested.

Yet, one thing was still the same about him.

“What's with you and those t-shirts?’’ you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Hoseok snorted at that. ‘’I like the band, so I wear t-shirts with their name on. It's as simple as that, princess. But I don't expect you to understand since you probably don't know who Joy Division is.”

You placed your palm on your chest, more offended by his words that you would like to admit. ‘’Of course I know who Joy Division is. I'm ballerina, not stupid,” you scoffed. ‘’Love will tear us apart is their song, isn’t it? I’ve been through this edgy phase on Tumblr in 2015. I know what I’m taking about.”

Hoseok looked at you with raised eyebrows and there was something in his eyes you couldn’t put your finger on. Was it amusement? Curiosity?

You didn’t have a lot of time to think about it though, because the waitress was back with your orders. Again starstrucked by Hoseok. Again smiling sweetly like kpop female idols on music shows.

While she finally put your coffees on the table (she spent definitely too much time doing it) and walked away, you spoke once more.

“I don’t get it,” you said and Hoseok muttered “what?”, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’ve never seen someone doing a choreography to Drake's song and be dressed like cliché rock band member the next day.”

Hoseok placed his cup down and looked at you with a smirk. “I have many faces you don't know about yet, princess.” he warned. Dangerous, daring, dumb–

“And when am I going to find out?” you countered.

“If you keep going for a coffee with me after our practices, I might reveal more of myself to you. As long as you are going to do the same in return.”

At that, you raised your eyebrows. Hoseok's eyes were challenging, asking you to pick up the dare and get to know him more and more, slice him layer after layer. Your subconscious was telling you there was so much more than meets the eye about Jung Hoseok than his annoying retorts and edgy t-shirts. And you were there to witness all of it.

“Fine,” you finally agreed, eyes narrowed. “We can hang out after classes. Sometimes.”

Hoseok grinned. “Great. Now, let's start getting to know each other!”

You're eyes widened comically. “Woah, slow down, boy. You know my name, know that I teach ballet and that I like espresso. What else should I tell you on our first dat–meeting?” you corrected yourself quickly. Date was a sacred word. Definitely not reserved for a man like Jung Hoseok.

“Oh, please. I also know it's better not to get on your nerves,” he pointed out. Smartass. “Tell me about how all of this happened. How did you become a ballerina.” he suggested.

You took a big sip of your coffee. “That's a quite long story,” you said languidly.

“I don't mind. We have time.”

You stared at him for a moment. He looked slightly out of picture, sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking a cup of the sweetest drink you could ever think of, while wearing clothes that made him look like he belonged to shady bars, where he could be surrounded by sleazy people sipping on their scotch whiskeys. There should have been a cigarette caught between his lips and fumes of smoke swirling around his features, but there was solace and the smell of caramel. Jung Hoseok, with a picture of sunflowers behind his back looked like no one you had ever met before.

And this kind of enigma that was this boy inflamed a strange curiosity in you.

So you picked up a dare.

“Well,” you began, “It all started when I was in kindergarten. You know how it is, when you are five years old and your parents want to divert their unfulfilled ambitions into you. You could say I was this type of kid, kinda. My mum was a ballerina when she was young, so was her mother, but when she got pregnant with me in very early stage of her relationship with dad, she had to stop her career and took care of me. Dad was constantly working, travelling here and there to gain as much money as he could for us,” you explained.

“Mum always told me that my grandparents weren’t quite fond of their relationship. Especially my mum's. You know, dad used to be some kind of a bad boy back then,” you chuckled, remembering the pictures mum showed you. Leather jackets, motorbikes and self made cigarettes. “Grandma constantly blamed him for ruining mum's dreams, for debauching her and then, I happened,” you paused to gulp a sip of your coffee and continued. “So yeah, my grandma never forgave dad. However, after years she had grown to tolerate him to the point she didn’t throttle him during Christmas.”

You smiled, thinking how your dad and grandma avoided any unnecessary conversations between them. It was all civil, good mornings and goodbyes spoke in casual tone, but the tension was so thick that any sudden impulse, like dad talking about old times after a few glasses of wine, could break everything they had built through years.

“It was actually my dad who took me to the ballet classes first. My mum never wanted me to follow her footsteps but dad somehow tried to, I don't know, redeem himself? He felt responsible for a long time and when I think about this now, he just wanted to make his daughter a next little ballerina so my grandma could be pleased.”

Suddenly Hoseok interrupted you. “But don't you think it's unfair your parents did that to you because your mum couldn’t, you know, continue her career anymore?” he asked and you were pleasantly surprised to see him intrigued by your little story.

You hummed, contemplating this for a second before you answered. “You’re right, maybe it is slightly unfair but I actually grown to love ballet while the years passed. And seeing my mum happily watching my performances is enough for me.” you said. Ballet was your whole life, it always had been, there was no point of denying it.

“What about your grandma then?”

“She died a few years ago. But I think she was proud of me. She never told me that verbally though. She was pretty bad at expressing feelings, but I know she was proud. I saw it in her eyes after my first big étude.”

It was in middle school, back when you were living in your hometown. Your group was performing Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker and you got one of the leading roles. You never forgot the look in your grandma's eyes when she approached you after the performance.

“And what now?” Hoseok asked and you looked up at him. “What are your plans for the next, few years?”

“Now, I still have a couple of years to double major from ballet dances and psychology. And what would come after, we will see. I have a big performance in January that will determine something really important for me. And as for the future-future, teaching kids ballet seems really nice.” You smiled lightly.

You didn’t like to talk about your big performance aloud, since you weren't quite sure of what future was going to bring. It determined if you would get into four-months-long international scholarship in Russia or not. Only one person could win this. And you were strong-willed to at least try. You dreamt about it your entire life. To finally dance on the stage of Bolszoy Theatre, maybe go on a whole tour around the world with their crew. But that was for now a matter of your own luck and abilities.

“Wow,” Hoseok mused. “You have this all planned out, princess.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a goal, not actual plans,” you grumbled sheepishly. “What about you? Are you really a hip-hop choreographer wanna be?’’ You giggled but stopped abruptly when you saw his expression seemed to have changed. Gone was cocky, grinning boy he was just minutes ago. Now in Hoseok's eyes was some kind of sadness and melancholy that wasn’t there before. It didn’t suit him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“No plans. I’m just living the moment.” he said matter-of-factly, like he was trying to play it the most casually he could. It was strange behavior.

Maybe Hoseok was right. He did have a lot more hidden underneath the layers he put on everyday. He just didn’t want to show it. Not yet.

The atmosphere condensed between you. It was thick and heavy with strange tension. You tried to loosen up it a little. It was probably your personality trait your friend would directly connect with your zodiac sign. “So,” you chimed in, “for how long this waitress has been giving you heart eyes?”

Asking that was completely unplanned but you had to think about something quickly, offhand. Hoseok’s features brightened a little and you didn’t know if it was because the question was about the girl or because you were the one asking him it.

Ironically, you hoped for the latter.

“Chaeyoung, you mean?”

Oh, he knew her name. Interesting.

You tightened your grip around the cup unconsciously. “Is there any other waitress here who has a crush on you?”

Hoseok smirked after hearing your snarky remark but chose not to answer that. “Actually I’ve never had more explicit conversation with her, unless it was about the coffee. Maybe I should try, what do you think? She seems nice.” His eyes wandered for a moment to the place where the waitress stood, talking to a customer.

You smiled but there was no true politeness in this. Why though, that was something to think about on another occasion. “Yeah, you should. Totally.” you gritted through clenched teeth.

“Yeah, totally.” Hoseok agreed, nodding.

For a minute it was mute but then he glanced at your empty cups and a small smirk appeared on his face. “So, where are you taking me next?” he asked out of the blue.

You blinked. “What?”

“I treated you this week, your turn is next.”

‘’I’m not gonna buy you food, the fuck. You treated me as an apology! I don't-” You stopped your outburst when you saw him snickering at you. “Why the hell are you laughing?’’ you snapped. There was probably a blush on your cheeks and you cupped them briefly with your hands to cover it.

“Because I was kidding. You don't have to buy me anything, I can pay for myself. Relax, princess.” Hoseok grinned. He didn’t seem to be as uneasy as before, so you scoffed at him. “But honestly, where are we going next weekend?” he asked, entirely serious.

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” you challenged.

He just sent you his signature, cocky grin. “Am I that bad company?” he teased.

“Decent. You’re decent company, Hoseok.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don't be. That's just me trying to be civil.” you warned, pointing your index finger at him.

“Great, I’ll text you about it soon then, princess,” Hoseok announced simply, ignoring your surprised expression. He reached for the menu still lying on the table and opened it. “They serve good lemon tarts here, want some?” he proposed, going through the other positions briefly.

You furrowed your eyebrows, still processing what he had said earlier. “You don't have my phone number.”

“I do, actually,” Hoseok mumbled and his lips twitched.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “How did you get my number?”

“Soyeon. I asked her and she gave me.” Hoseok answered simply, shrugging his shoulders.

A shocked gasp left your lips. “Soyeon, the receptionist? You swooned her over to get my number? She's married!” you exclaimed, staring at him in disbelief.

Now it was Hoseok's turn to roll his eyes. “Not my fault she couldn't resist my smile and sweet words.”

You sighed heavily. He was really testing your patience.

“Well, what about those lemon tarts?”

You tossed your head back, groaning in frustration that was probably heard by every single person passing by the coffee shop on this September afternoon.

However, you missed the way Hoseok's lips stretched out in a warm, sincere smile.

You did end up having those lemon tarts that day.

You couldn’t explain why or how, but in some way coffee meetings after dance lessons on Saturdays were no more just them. They turned into late dinners on Fridays and random text messages when you were bored during your lectures, which most times were eventually escalalting to Hoseok sending you tiktoks and memes you had saw million times before yet you laughed at them anyway.

It was a start of promising friendship, someone could say. Unexpected, with not so smooth beginning but blossoming into something much more than simple hanging out in your free time. But none of you seemed to notice it, not yet.

Before you could even blink, summer was officially over and fall started to make her way into the weather. Warm cups of coffee started to feel more and more reasonable with each passing day and one time you found yourself holding one while visiting Hoseok at his work.

It was Wednesday, you didn’t have any classes at uni that day and he texted you if you could come to the address he had sent. And you did, ignoring the cold wind and forgetting about the warmth between your sheets you had to leave. Which had been surprising even for you; a sacrifice for someone like Jung Hoseok, but again, you weren’t categorizing it like that yet.

That’s how you found out about Hoseok's other job. He worked at the Suga's Record Shop, where, as he had described it: you could buy legendary pieces of music while listening to another million dollar hits. He’d said he took the position at Just Dance because the actual interest in buying vinyls unfortunately wasn't increasing, so the guy who owned the shop, Min Yoongi was his name, had decided to reduce Hoseok's salary.

The shop looked like pulled out straight from 80s movies, with tons of records of probably every single artist you could think of. There wasn’t anyone beside you inside, so Hoseok walked you around, picking up different albums, classics, as he had said and showing them to you. He kept talking about them with true admiration written on his features, babbling about how Joey Ramone and his band invented punk rock and you found yourself watching him with amusement glittering in your eyes.

Days, weeks passed and it was already October approaching, turning green parks into wide range of colors that could only be described as autumnal.

You kept discovering more and more similarities between you and Hoseok than you would like to admit. One of them being your laicsm when it came to manga and anime. The solidarity was made one Friday after practices, when you both agreed on not understanding the hype after seeing some poster hanging out randomly on the street.

Music taste however, was another cup of tea. It was something Hoseok took his pride in, that was why he kept sending you various tracks encouraging you to listen to some good stuff until one day, with raised eyebrows, he learnt how wrong his previous assumptions about you had been.

“Oh my God, my song!’’ you exclaimed, when The Neighbourhood’s Softcore started playing while you were sitting at the Blue Side. It looked like the pink-haired waitress was absent, so were the latest k-pop tracks she constantly played in the coffee shop.

“You know them?’’ Hoseok asked, looking at you with bewilderment in his eyes.

You snorted at him. “Told you I had that edgy vibe in 2015 when everyone listened to Sweather Weather. The t-shirts are long gone but my love for Jesse Rutherford stays untouched.”

You started mouthing the lyrics but Hoseok interrupted you. “I thought you would be into some k-pop type of shit.”

He received a roll of your eyes in return. “Hey, don't disrespect k-pop like that! There are nice songs out there, people just choose the worse ones usually and complain how trashy they are.” you said, pointing your index finger accusingly at him.

Hoseok lifted his arms in defending pose. “Fine, fine, don’t cancel me. What about classical music then. Since you are dancing ballet and all,” he drawled.

“Do you want to know a secret?’’ You leaned over the table and whispered, earning a nod from Hoseok. “Most ballerinas know nothing about classical music unless they are pieces we use for our routines. Ask them about their favourite and the answers would probably be Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. I'm most ballerinas.”

There was a moment of silence before you both erupted into laughter.

For people looking at you from the distance, laughing together until tears formed in your eyes, teasing and throwing playful snorts, you might have looked like you had known each other for years.

Something was ending, leaves were falling off the trees and sun hid behind the greish clouds but in the warm embrace of a small coffee shop two people found themselves in a hold of affection they couldn’t escape, no matter how hard they tried.

Because love sometimes comes into people’s lifes unannounced, tearing apart their souls and making them vulnerable for others’ healing touch.

It was late evening on Friday, when you were sitting at your favourite ramen place, bonding over food like it was the most natural thing to do, talk between next chews, bites and occasional slurps of Hoseok's mouth.

Miss Lee's ramen was cheap, not fatty and what was the most important – not popular among other residents of your neighborhood, so not many people decided to show up that evening as well. That became the reason why you had suggested meeting there with Hoseok after your lessons.

You were in the middle of playing 100 questions game, a new found way of getting to know each other better. It was completely Hoseok's idea because he seemed to be the most eager man to learn more about you that you had ever met in your entire history of dating which, sadly, wasn't impressive.

Last time someone asked you so many questions, you were doing personality tests on Buzzfeed.

Now it was your turn to ask something and after discovering that Hoseok poured milk before the cereal, liked green the most from all colors and was scared of needles (that's probably why he didn’t have any piercings, you thought to yourself) you decided you were really bad at this game.

But then, you recalled the interview you had recently watched with some k-pop group and after swallowing a generous amount of pasta, you aimed the target.

“What's your most prized possession?’’

Hoseok, however, answered without a second thought. “My drums.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion. “Drums? Like the instrument?”

“No, like the cannisters.” he snorted sarcastically.

“So you can play?” you continued, ignoring his witty retort.

“Yes, I do. I started learning when I was a kid. My dad owned a music shop. He was renovating old instruments from time to time and that's how I was gifted drums on my 10th birthday. The same ones I have till this day.”

You hummed. “So you’re hip-hop dancer slash drummer? And what, you play in a rock band too?” you laughed but stopped right away when you saw his serious expression. You gasped. “Oh my God. You do play in a band! And you didn’t tell me sooner?!” you exclaimed loudly. Young couple sitting few seats from you sent you deathly glares. You mouthed “Sorry!” and directed your attention to Hoseok again.

He simply shrugged his shoulders. “There wasn’t an opportunity before,” You shook your head in disbelief at that. “Told you I’ve got a lot more to reveal.” He smirked and fuck, you hoped the blush that covered your cheeks right now was from the spice noodles you had eaten.

So Jung Hoseok and his love for leather jackets and old bands wasn't unreasonable. You hated yourself for wanting to see him play, sweat covering his forehead and lips bitten in concentration. What a sight it could be. Truly mesmerizing.

You had to stop your brain from wandering through such dangerous territories.

“So,” you started after clearing your thoughts, “Are there any other hot musicians in your band?” you asked, regretting your choice of words as soon as they left your lips. You wanted to slap yourself mentally.

“Did you just call me hot?”

“In your dreams. Now tell me about your rock band,” you blurted out quickly and let out a shaky breath afterwards. That was very much close to a catastrophe.

Yet you didn’t miss the way Hoseok's lips lifted up in amusement, trying to hide the laughter blossoming in his throat. “We are actually a punk rock band. There’s four of us. Namjoon, electric guitarist and the leader who sticks us all together since 2016. Jimin, in charge of vocals and bass guitar, and the youngest member, Jungkook, vocalist and bass guitar player as well.”

“How did you all meet then?’’

You weren’t even hiding your curiosity at this point. You justified yourself by thinking it was your only chance to be as close to the real (punk) rock band member you would ever be.

“You probably won’t believe me, but we all met at the university. I was studying business for a year before I dropped out of it and that's how I met Namjoon, who’s been my roommate ever since,” Hoseok said. “I met Jungkook and Jimin through Namjoon. He introduced them to me saying they all took part in some underground concerts for amateurs and after that they started hanging out together. You might say it was a coincidence we all met like that but I don't believe it. I think we were meant to come across each other eventually, you know, to save punk rock together.” He laughed to himself after finishing his little story.

You smiled at him genuinely and there was no mockness in this, it was true sympathy and probably something else, not so easy to describe.

You imagined four boys, with head full of dreams and hearts filled with raw passion, doing something the world didn’t believe in, but they had enough faith in themselves to prove everyone wrong.

“So how’s the band called?” you asked.

“Punk’s Not Dead.” Hoseok responded, cheeks bright red with mortification.

“Punk’s Not Dead,” you mused to yourself. “Sounds nice. Clever, I would say.”

“It's actually a name of the movie. It was Namjoon who made it up. He's the smartest from our group. After all he isn’t studying law without a reason.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest. “A future lawyer playing in a punk rock band? I thought nothing is gonna surprise me after hearing you, hip-hop choreographer wanna be, are also a drummer. What about the others? Doctors? Stripteasers?”

Hoseok chukled lightly. “No, none of that. Jungkook and Jimin both work together as mechanics,” he answered, reaching for his now empty ramen bowl. You gaped as his calloused fingers adored with rings curled around the item, moving it to the side. Hoseok had pretty hands, you noticed. Hands of musician.

Sudden idea popped up in your head. “So when am I gonna hear you playing live?” you asked, smirking at him.

“Soon actually.”

“Soon?”

“Yeah, soon. We are having a gig next Saturday at Namjoon's brother bar. You should come.” Hoseok suggested.

What kind of hollywood movie plot it was, you didn’t know, but you found yourself enjoying the main female protagonist's role probably too much.

“Next Saturday,” you mumbled to yourself, counting days in your head. Right, it was the day your best friend was coming back from Los Angeles and you had to pick her up from the airport.

You bit your lip. Ah, fuck it.

“Fine. I’ll come,” you said. ‘’But can I bring my friend as a company?” you added and Hoseok smiled broadly.

“The more people, the better.”

It was a while after the concert when you learnt it wasn’t entirely a good idea but right now, with Jung Hoseok and his cocky grin he was flashing you, nothing else mattered.

Incheon International Airport was a place utterly unfamiliar to you.

Last time you had visted it, was when you had been in ripe age of ten, welcoming back your aunt Jia from her ‘life journey’ to Tibet.

Aunt Jia was an extraordinary lady, she had proved it announcing the whole family her departure to Tibet for a six months long ‘detox’, nearly giving your mother heart attack when she had talked about bonding through the nature and finding her inner peace in a temple among Tibetan monks.

But it was years ago, now aunt Jia was older and her interest in buddhism was way more sustainable, limited to buying different Buddha figurines in art decor shops.

So today, you were at the Incheon International Airport for the second time in your life, again welcoming, this time your best friend Hana from her almost two years long stay in United States.

You met three years ago, both freshly graduated from your high schools and starting a new, adult life in Seoul as roommates. You had become close friends pretty easily, sticking together through ups and downs of dealing with real life shit, as you used to call it.

Ballerina and soon to be actress, both too dramatic for this world but getting along just fine through a whole year, until one day Hana had announced over a bowl of cereal she had received an opportunity to go on an international scholarship in USA she had always dreamt about. A lifetime chance, one in a million, as she'd said. Learning acting from American professionalists, walking down the never ending sunshine streets of California. Something only outstanding people can experience.

That was how Hana had ended up in Los Angeles, the City of Stars and the world's factory of make-believe. Thousands of kilometers away from home. Today, she was going to step on her country's ground for the first time in two years since she had been gone and you were more than thrilled to see her again in person.

She hadn’t exactly told you why she was back, neither she had explained for how long or, what was the most important and disturbing: why this was happening all of a sudden. And something was telling you it was all too suspicious, a perfectly wrapped half-lie.

Hana said someone from her old friends from acting school had told her that the National Theater was preparing to do Victor Hugo's Les Misérables and suggested she should try her luck with castings, since she had played the main role while being abroad. It sounded convincing though, how wouldn’t, she was a good actress after all.

That was Hana’s version of events. How really was, you didn't know, not yet. But you were sure something about this whole situation was too strange to be true. And you were determined to find out exactly what.

It was late morning in Seoul, foggy and with definitely too much humidity in the air. You were standing in the arrivals hall holding a self-made sign, produced out of boredom and your true love for DIY Pinterest ideas. Besides your friend’s name, you had painted palm trees on it and added glitter that was still stuck to some parts of your bedroom floor. You probably looked ridiculous holding it in your hands but you didn’t care, shifting from left foot to right. Waiting.

When you were about to check the time, you saw people coming up in your direction with suitcases in their hands. And then, among a crowd of nameless passengers, you saw a familiar blonde pony-tail and black polka-dot suitcase that could only belong to one person.

You could feel the roll of your best friend's eyes before you actually saw it, Hana shaking her head and chuckling to herself because of the absurd sign you were holding.

When Hana was approximately ten meters from you, you cleared your throat and half-yelled in flat english, “There she is! My California girl!”

People around looked in your direction with both distaste and amusement but Hana only sighed, until breath was knocked out of her lungs from the sheer force of your hug.

“Oh my God, I missed you so much!” you mumbled into the material of her grey coat.

“We talked and face timed each other practically everyday,” Hana grumbled but deep down, even if she didn’t say it, she missed you too.

“That's not the same!” you protested. “Lemme look at you properly,” You pulled away from the hug, putting your hands on Hana's shoulders and eyeing her carefully. She looked skinnier than three years ago when you had met but that was a question for another occasion. Her skin, gingerly touched by Californian sun, made her look like she had just come back from holidays abroad. “You're definitely too tanned for October,” you pointed out, earning a chuckle from her.

“Come on,” Hana said, tiredness clearly apparent in her voice. “Let's get away from here.”

Back in the Uber that was driving you to your place, the atmosphere seemed to shift. Unspoken questions were lying at the tip of your tongue and you wanted to let them out instantly but you knew better. No rush, one information at the time. So you started from the simplest one, or you just thought it was.

“Did you tell your parents you're back?” you asked and Hana visibly grimaced after hearing it. Of course she didn’t, there was no point of lying.

“Not yet.”

“When are you going to tell them then?”

There was a pause on the other side of the seat and followed by a heavy sigh, Hana responded. “They still think I’m in California because my scholarship physically ends in two months. I will visit them home as soon as I’ll settle down in Seoul again.”

Settle down? You furrowed your eyebrows. She was going to stay for good here?

“So what are your next plans?’’ you wondered aloud.

“Go to that try-out in the theatre next week, see if my stay in America was actually worth something,” Hana chuckled dryly, almost bitterly. “I was also thinking about finding some part time job so I could afford a place on my own once I get back to acting regularly in theatre. I don’t want to overuse your kindness.”

“You're not using–” you started to protest but Hana cut you off.

“I am practically throwing myself at you because I don't have a place to live. But don't worry, that's not for a long time.” She smiled lightly and you reciprocated the gesture. Hana then turned her head to the window, looking out of it for a while as you passed the streets. She murmured something about the weather that you didn’t hear well because your thoughts were somewhere else.

You tried to digest all the revelations your friend had just told you. It looked like Hana wasn’t planning on coming back to Los Angeles any time soon or she wasn't going to do it at all, but that wasn’t the most puzzling issue about the whole situation. It was strange because she’d never said anything about staying abroad for longer, not even once, until she met him. That happened to be some kind of an anchor for her, a reason why she had started questioning openly her further life choices. Had something happened that she changed her mind completely?

You caught in the corner of your eye the sight of Hana absentmindedly playing with the ring on her finger and you decided it was now or never, you had to ask her or you will never be able to muster up the courage.

“What about Taehyung?” It seemed out of the blue, vocalized so suddenly but deep down it wasn’t. And Hana knew that. Her fingers ever so slightly tightened around the ring and then pulled away. “Does he know you’re staying?”

She didn't visibly flinched, didn’t scrunch her eyebrows or purse her lips, didn’t protest. Maybe it was because she had been taught how not to show any emotions, maybe it was because she didn’t want to show any emotions at all. Her face was blank when she spoke, eyes distant and thoughts probably far away from the small space of the car.

“Taehyung recently got a role in some new Netflix series. One of the main roles actually, so it's going to take him some time to finish recording.” she said, not answering the question and she was well aware of it. It was right there on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated. Maybe the realization was too much to handle for her.

“So he seems to enjoy his stay in America,” you trailed off, watching as Hana smiled lightly but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Yeah," she nodded. “He is.”

And that was enough of an answer for you.

You had been watching Hana falling for Taehyung for solid two years since she had left grey streets of Seoul to drown in Californian paradise. They met in acting school and got the scholarship together. The most divine, the most talented students the school had. Somehow over the thousands of kilometers of homesickness they started dating. And you were happy, you couldn’t be more glad seeing your beat friend chasing her dreams with a person who cared about her by her side. But the news about engagement few months ago had come as a shock to you, although you had not said anything. Hana's smile when she had showed you the ring had been enough to convince you of her happiness.

Right now, sitting by her side and listening to her talking about it so emotionless, so blankly, you were sure that in every single Hollywood fantasy there was a crack.

“So, here we are.”

After opening the doors to your apartment there was a slight pause, before you spoke again. “I know it's nothing special but for that price and in location so close to my uni I couldn’t find anything better. It's small but–”

“Can you please stop rumbling for a second?” Hana interrupted you abruptly. She was literally standing in the door with the suitcase still in her hand because you didn't let her in any further. “I told you it's okay. You allowed me to stay here even though there's barely enough space here for one person.”

“But still, the bathroom is like the smallest I have ever seen... Oh, and there's a soy sauce stain on the wall in kitchen because I still haven’t figure out how to remove it and–”

The door banged loudly and you jumped from the sudden noise.

“What the fuck! You know how easily I get scared!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on your chest, calming your rapidly beating heart.

Hana shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve had enough of your stupid complaining. Now, show me where will I sleep beacuse I feel like passing out any second now.” She placed her suitcase on the floor, taking off her coat and kicking off her boots.

When you were living together as roommates, Hana was the one who organized the chores and yelled at you after making a mess and not cleaning up. She had been doing it as a matter of habit even during her absence.

“Sleep, yeah,” you muttered to yourself, shrugging off your coat as well. “Technically there’s no second bed here but you’re going to sleep here,” you explained, pointing out at the small sofa that was standing in a place you called ‘living room' just because it was connected directly to the kitchen. Beside the sofa, it consisted of the lamp and a tiny glass table where usually was a mess of your belongings but right now it was all cleaned and polished.

Hana slumped down on the sofa, closing her eyes. “God, I missed that. There was some yelling kid on the plane and their parents couldn’t shut them up,” She sighed tiredly. “Now I can nap for the rest of the day. And night.”

You bit your lip, looking at her slumped body. Today was Saturday, the day of Hoseok's band concert you had been invited to and you still didn't prepare your outfit or, what was the most important, for the whole week you hadn’t messaged Hana about the fact that she was, in fact, invited too. You felt guilty asking your freshly out of twelve hours long flight friend to come with you but you had no choice.

“Hana,” you started and it already sounded pleading, not casual. She cracked one eye open. She knew when you had some buisness to her and it seemed like that now. “I know you’re tired, jet lagged and all but what would you say to a power six hours nap and going to a punk rock concert tonight with me?” you blurted out quickly.

Hana opened her eyes completely and now was looking at you dumbfounded expression on her face. “What?” she stammered out.

You moved to sit next to her on a sofa and took a deep breath. “So here's the thing. You know I work at the dance school now right?” you began and Hana nodded slowly. “I met a guy there. He teaches kids hip-hop. His name is Hoseok and he actually isn't only a dancer, he's also a drummer. And it might sound stupid but he plays in a band too,” you explained, avoiding her burning gaze you could feel on your skin. However, if you looked in her direction, you would see the soft smile adoring Hana's features. “We kinda started hanging out about a month ago and recently he invited me to his band's concert. And I really want to go but I thought you could accompany me cause I don't wanna be there alone all the time so, yeah.” you trailed off sheepishly.

There was a bit of silence and you were waiting for Hana to scold you but instead you received reaction you weren’t expecting at all.

“You’re dating some guy and you didn’t tell me?!” Hana bursted out. She had a mixture of disbelief and probably a little bit of betrayal written across her face.

You held your arms up in defending pose. “We aren’t dating!” you protested, scandalized someone could ever put words dating and Hoseok's name next to yours. “It's just some casual hanging out after work, just friends. Friends.” you repeated.

Hana rolled her eyes at that. She knew you better than you would like to admit but she decided not to tease you about it any further. “So, is he hot? He must be, he's a drummer after all and they are hot in theory,” She wiggled her eyebrows, nudging you with her elbow while you groaned in frustration.

“If that will make you happy, yes, he is good looking,” you sighed. There was a tiny bit of blush covering your cheeks. “But as I said, we’re just friends!” you emphasized the word again, looking at Hana intensely like you were trying to embed it in her brain so she wouldn't think something else.

“Will you go with me then? Please? I need emotional support.” you pouted. “Besides you owe me for letting you stay here.” you added and it might have been a little unfair move to maake but you didn’t care about that.

Hana sighed heavily, like she was really contemplating the decision even though she had made it a while ago, just to keep you in suspense for a little longer. She fought and urge to ask about said emotional support while Hoseok was only a friend and instead she nodded her head.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said, lifting her index finger before you could crash her body in a hug. “But I need to take this nap first.”

You grinned at her. “Thank you, thank you,” you kept mumbling, cuddling her body tightly against her protests.

“Now lemme wash and sleep.” Hana grumbled in annoyed tone but you knew she wasn’t mad at you at all. Deep down, even after layers of well trained, measured actions she had a good heart.

“Punk’s not dead? What kind of name for a band is this?”

You were standing before the door to the bar, side by side, watching as different people, mainly young, were passing you and coming inside. Hana eyed the pink poster that said ‘Free entrance!’ with her arms crossed over chest.

“That's the name for the punk rock band.” you said with a glint of annoyance in your voice, not even sure why somehow affected by your friend's words. You liked the name, it wasn’t obvious and sounded catchy. For you at least.

Hana snorted. “I hope they are worth my jet lagged self that I’m sacrificing here for you.” she sighed, averting her gaze from the poster hanging on the window and pushing the door inside.

The bar, Dionysus, was Namjoon's brother’s property, as Hoseok had explained to you. They played their mini concerts here since they had met, actually gaining money from this because the owner was letting them take some part of the earnings from alcohol buying. Also, there was always a small box on the bar counter where people could throw their money inside if they wanted to support the group directly.

Inside, there was a respectable amount of people already standing before the stage where everything seemed to be set up, except for the actual band members that weren't present, apparently hiding at the ‘backstage’ until their main entrance. You spotted drums standing at the back of the stage and you suddenly felt not so sure of yourself.

“There's a whole stage here? Geez, they didn't come to play,” Hana wheezed to herself, taking in the surroundings. “Do you want to drink something first?” she whispered into your ear.

You glanced at your phone to check time before answering. “I don’t know. I kind of want to be by the stage when they start playing.”

Hana nudged your side. “Relax, I will push my way through those girls in leather skirts for you. Come on, let's warm up a little.”

You looked in the direction of the stage once again but eventually gave up, letting her drag you to the bar. Maybe the drink wasn’t a bad idea. You didn't quite know if you could survive the evening completely sober.

The tall, handsome looking bartender smiled at you cheekily when you sat with Hana by the bar.

“What can I get for the lovely ladies?” he asked, eyeing you both misheviously.

“What do you recommend?” Hana leaned her head on the hand, smiling at the man as well.

“I could make you my absolute speciality: Aphrodite’s nectar.” the bartender suggested.

“Go on, surprise us.” Hana said, earning a confident smirk from the man before he turned around to make your drinks. She rolled her eyes, pulling a few bills from her purse and throwing them to the self made money box with ‘Thank you for the support – Punk's not dead’ caption.

“I could pay for myself, you know,” you muttered under your breath but loud enough for Hana to hear.

“Shh, don't say anything and let me support your friend with a generous tip before the actual show. Hope they’re worth it.” Upon her words, the bartender handed you your drinks with “Here you go.” followed by the cocky grin.

Hana frowned when she saw pinkish liqueur poured to the vodka-size glass. “Seriously? This is his speciality? Pink coloured vodka? Isn’t that supposed to be called sex on the beach?” she scoffed and drank the substance in one go, flinching after she swallowed. “I've had better.” she commented dryly.

You followed her actions, drinking up the alcohol as well. You coughed a few times before you asked, “Can we go now?” It sounded like a childlike pleading but you didn’t care.

Hana nodded after exhaling loudly and you both made your way to the stage, like she had said earlier – pushing through the crowd of other people. There were shouts of swears and insults thrown at you from every side but Hana didn’t give a fuck, practically dragging you by your hand while you were muttering quick apologies to every single girl in leather skirt.

When you reached very front of the stage, Hana grinned at you. “See? Told you we’ll be in first row. God, I haven’t been to punk concert for a very long time.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You've been to a punk concert before?” you asked, confused with her words. Hana seemed to be taken aback by this question, like she just realised she had said something she hadn't indent to.

“Yeah. In high school. Like I said, long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you–” you started but immadietly stopped, when the lights went out followed by the oooh! from gathered people. “Oh my God it's happening,” you half-whispered, clutching Hana's hand.

“Youjust referred to The Office without watching it.”

“Shut up!” you muttered, ignoring Hana's giggle.

Next thing you knew, sharp lights shimmered and few, firsts accords of electric guitar resonated through the bar. You absentmindedly squeezed Hana's hand tighter. Then, more lights flashed, along with the thumbing sound of drums and the whole stage illuminated with bright, silver colors.

You didn't even realise you were holding your breath the entire time. You eventually got back to your senses when one of the boys started singing an unknown to you song, probably self-written by them. His hair was pink and you recognized him as Jimin, remembering the photo Hoseok had sent you where he had captioned everyone. Jimin was leaning towards the micstand lazily, like he was purposely doing it this way. His guitar was dropped on his back nonchalantly.

Next was Jungkook, the youngest in the group. His mop of black hair was nodding along to the rhythm of the music, his eyes and attention solemnly focused on his guitar. He didn’t wear any jacket and his muscles on ink-covered arms flexed with his every move.

On the other side of the stage stood Namjoon, the one who Hoseok lived with and referred as the leader of the group. He also had some tattoos on his forearms but not as many as Jungkook. He smiled lightly at the crowd when someone shouted his name, showing the tiniest of dimples on his cheeks.

And there it was the last member. Hoseok.

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had seen him dancing a few times before in Just Dance, ever so passionate but this was different kind of passion. He was fierce, completely devoted to what he was playing, hitting the notes like his life depended on it. He didn’t had any tattoos adoring his skin and his ears weren’t pierced like his friends' but he had an exeptional energy in him, power that he emphasized with every move, every tap of his drumsticks. For you, he was the most divine of them all, the brightest spot on the stage. A born performer, flesh and bones.

The song was catchy, something quite similar to the ones Hoseok had sent you after many ‘pretty pleases' from you. Jimin and Jungkook's voices were blending together just fine and you found yourself bopping to the rhythm of the music until you felt Hana's hand on your shoulder. You turned around in her direction with a smile that quickly disappeared when you saw her expression. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. Even in the dimmed lighting you could distingiush she was paler than before.

She leaned towards your ear and half-yelled, trying to outshot the crowd, “I need to get some fresh. I don't feel well.”

You looked at her with worriedly. “I'll go with you,” you declared but Hana stopped you.

“No, stay here,” she protested firmly. “Enjoy the show. I'll wait for you outside until it's over.”

“You sure?” you asked, earning a nodd from her along with a light smile that didn’t look much convincing but before you could say anything else, Hana was making her way through sweaty, bouncing bodies again. You watched anxiously as her blonde hair disappeared between the mass of nameless people and then, the song was over. You released a long breath and glanced at the stage.

Namjoon took the mic and tapped on it a few times. “Ehm, hi. We're Punk's not dead, as you know probably,” he chuckled lightly, making you smile, despite the uneasy feeling in your chest about Hana. “I'm Namjoon and I’m the leader of the group. I thought it could be nice if I introduce everyone before we start so... here we go. On the left, there's Jimin,” He pointed at the pink-haired man and audience, mainly female attendants, cheered loudly. Jimin smirked lopsidedly.

Namjoon continued, “Next there's Jungkook,” The youngest lifted his head and smiled boyishly in bunny-like manner, scrunching his nose in process. He looked familiar, you thought to yourself. Strange.

“And, our amazing drummer: Hoseok!” Namjoon presented and you screamed upon hearing Hoseok's name before you could realise what on Earth you were doing. Hoseok stood up from his seat and grinned broadly, waving to the crowd. Then, miraculously, his eyes landed on you and if that was even possible, his smile visible widened. You thanked whatever gods that existed he couldn’t see the way your cheeks flushed.

“Thank you for coming here today. I hope you'll have a great time,” Namjoon said. “And now, we are going to play our new song called Cigarettes after sex*, written and self-composed by Jimin. Enjoy.” he finished, nodding to his friends.

The song was beautiful, it carried the lash of melancholy and sadness behind every single word that Jimin sang and he visibly felt it too, making it seem even more real by the sheer emotions of heartache written on his beautiful features.

They played a few more songs after that one, some of them were covers of the bands you were familiar with thanks to Hoseok and his signature t-shirts. Before you could blink an eye, it was over and Namjoon was thanking everyone one more time for coming and then they disappeared behind the black curtains after receiving a loud applause for their performance.

You stayed like that for a while, still basking in aftermath of everything that had just happened, humming to yourself some melody from one of the songs you had heard tonight. You turned your back to the stage, watching other people leaving the bar. Lost in your own world, you definitely didn’t hear footsteps behind you.

“Did you enjoy your time, princess?”

You jumped in your place, twirling to the direction of the voice you knew so damn well. Hoseok was smirking at you while crouching down on the stage. His friends were also there, behind him, packing their stuff.

When you calmed down your breathing enough, you shouted, “What the fuck, Hoseok?! I told you to not do things like that to me!”

He only chuckled in response, smiling cockily at the furious flush on your cheeks. “I asked you a question,” he reminded.

What was it? Ah, right, he asked about the concert. You pursued lips, crossing your arms over chest. You wanted to say it was showstopping, spectacular and all those adjectives Lady Gaga had used in that famous meme video of hers but you didn’t.

“It was decent.”

A smirk appeared on Hoseok's face. “Decent, huh? Wouldn't say so, after seeing you cheering so loudly in first row,” he teased. ‘’I'm flattered. I’ve never had such devoted fan of myself.”

He thought that pink blush which colored your cheeks was cute. Fuck, you were cute, trying to cover your embarrassment with an unamused expression.

“I cheered for your friends, you know? Not you.” you mocked but it was pointless, he was already standing up from his position, knowing what was the truth.

“Come on, let's go to the backstage,” He made quotation mark on the word backstage while saying it. You grimaced. “There’s nice after party setting up there,” he tried again, this time pouting slightly and you eventually gave up. You had promised you would come, after all. Hoseok grinned when you followed his footsteps, walking to the supply base at the back of the bar.

“Jungkookie!" Hoseok shouted before he twisted the knob, whirling around for a quick moment. Jungkook lifted his head up in Hoseok's direction. “Don't forget to close the door when you finish packing!”

The youngest member nodded, going back to his previous work.

Beside you and Hoseok's bandmates, inside the ‘backstage’ was the same handsome bartender from earlier, Namjoon's brother as you assumed, and a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair that stood next to Namjoon, leaning into his body. He had his arms wrapped around her, talking to his brother about something. She introduced herself as Minhee, Namjoon's girlfriend, extending her hand to you in friendly gesture when you approached them with Hoseok.

“Oh, we met before, by the bar. I’m Seokjin, the owner of this lovely place.” Namjoon's brother, Seokiin, said, shaking your hand.

“Hyung, you can't give it a miss, can you,” Namjoon grumbled behind his back but Seokjin ignored him. That wasn’t probably the first time he flexed about owning a bar, you thought to yourself.

“How did you like the concert, darling?” Seokjin asked you suddenly.

You rushed to reply. “Oh, it was really nice! I’ve never been to anything like that before but I enjoyed it very much.” you responded. Hoseok muttered something about you being a liar under his breath but you acted like you didn’t hear him. “I really liked the second song, the slow one.” you added, averting your gaze to Jimin who was sitting with his head bowed down in front of the vodka bottle.

Seokjin patted him on the shoulder. “Yah, did you hear that Jimin-ah? You’ve got a fan of your sad songs here!” he said, breaking into laughter but Namjoon stopped him by sending his brother a warning look. Jimin though barely even acknowledged his or your words, lifting his head up for a brief moment and eyeing your figure without any emotion on his face. Then he got back to the glass of alcohol again, pouring the substance into his mouth in one go.

“He broke up with his girlfriend like six months ago or something and still hasn’t quite move on,” Hoseok whispered into your ear. You let out an “Oh,”, sending one last apologetic smile to Jimin, even though he wasn’t looking at you at all.

Hoseok motioned you to sit by the table with others and you positioned yourself between Namjoon's girlfriend and Hoseok. The only absent person seemed to be Jungkook who was probably still fumbling with packing their stuff.

The conversation was oscillating around the concert. Hoseok mentioned that the audience had been much bigger than the last time and Namjoon kept babbling about some technical issue with his guitar that you couldn’t understand.

“Don't worry. I've been with him for three years and I still know shit about what he's talking about too," Minhee said to you, probably after seeing your clueless expression. You both bursted out into laughter.

You were supposed to ask her how had she and Namjoon had met but Seokjin interrupted you, walking in with a bottle of champagne.

“Where the hell is this kid Jungkook?” he grumbled. Hoseok quickly explained he was packing their stuff on stage when he last had seen him. Seokjin hummed and placed the bottle on the table. “And what about your blonde friend, darling?” he directed next question to you.

You froze in place.

Holy shit. You completely forgot about Hana.

You didn’t respond to Seokjin, so he assumed you hadn’t heard him and went back to opening the champagne bottle.

You pulled out your phone from the pursue and cried out in mortification after seeing the messages.

[22:11pm] Hana: I was at mcdonalds across the street lol im heading to the bar now

[22:11pm] Hana: come up for me please

[22:15pm] Hana: ???

10 minutes ago.

“Fuck!” you muttered under your breath, frantically typing a response.

“Is everything ok?” Hoseok asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shook your head. “I forgot to come up for my friend after the concert. She wasn’t feeling well so she left and stayed outside.” you hastily explained, already standing up from your seat, clutching your phone in hand. Hoseok followed after you.

You pushed the door open, although the sight you saw behind them wasn’t anything you could ever expected. The surprised words escaped Hoseok's and your mouth simultaneously.

“Hana?”

“Jungkook?”

They stood facing each other, looking like they were interrupted by you mid conversation, probably in too close proximity for people supposed to be strangers. Hana's astonished face leaned out from behind Jungkook's tall body in the direction of the voices. Slowly, like she didn’t expect to be caught this way. And that was weird, beacuse she looked like she didn’t want to be seen in Jungkook's presence by the others, like their close proximity was something that shouldn't have been acknowledged.

Jungkook turned around as well, however ever so recultanty. And then, when you saw his face clearly now, jet-black hair and inked arms, it all crashed you like a wave. That was why he seemed to look so familiar. You knew him, maybe not personally, but you knew who he was. The boy from Hana's photograph she had pinned to her cork board when you had been living together. A beach with crystal blue sea behid their backs, the same boy yet with less tattoos than now, carrying your friend on his back, both grinning to the camera like it had been the happiest moment of their lives. Until one day Hana was gone and so was the photograph.

You felt like you were interrupting something too intimate for you to step in with your shoes like that. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but Hoseok helped you out instead. And you thanked him for that mentally because you weren’t sure of your mouth anymore.

“Looks like your friend is safe and sound.”

Hana snapped out of her previous shocked haze upon hearing his words and automatically composured herself. She took a few meassured steps away from Jungkook. Gone was the slight shock on her face, she was back to her calmed persona. “Yeah, I'm all good. I was about to text you I’m going home.” she said, her words directed to you. She then exchanged quick glances with Jungkook, glances that could look the simplest from other people’s perspective but not for you.

Hoseok though, fortunately, didn’t seem to feel something was apparently off here. It was for the better he thought like that. “So you won't stay to celebrate with us?” he asked Hana.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He was still standing there, unsure of what to do

Hana shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m still tired and jet-lagged from my flight so I will just wish you great time and go.”

“You sure? I can go with you too, if you want,” you suggested after containing yourself enough to finally vocalize some thoughts. But Hana only smiled at you. Forcefully, which didn’t miss your attention.

“It's okay. I want you to have fun. I already called a cab for myself anyway” she reassured.

Hoseok protested. “Someone could drive you home. I’m sure Jungkook wouldn't mind–”

“It's fine, really.” Hana said firmly and you knew by the clench of her fists she was slowly losing her patience. At the same time, Jungkook's eyes flickered ever so slightly after hearing his hyung's words and then went back to his previous unreadable stare.

Seeing Hoseok opened his mouth to protest, you took his wrist, hoping he would take the hint and not add anything more.

“I must really go now. Take care of Y/N and have fun.” Hana smiled politely, looking at Hoseok and he reciprocated the gesture. She didn’t really acknowledge Jungkook at all, even though he had somehow his gaze fixated on her the whole time. But Hana did that all pursposelly, so Hoseok couldn’t suspect anything. She wasn’t stupid after all. Well crafted actress knew how to act.

She came up to you, hugging you briefly. “We'll talk tomorrow.” she whispered into your ear because she knew that you couldn’t be fooled so easily, that you felt something was not right from the very beginning since she had announced her comeback from the States.

Hana waved one last time to you, exiting the bar. You could swear Jungkook's eyes lingered on her figure a little too long to be considered unbothered, until he turned around and went back to the stage. You prayed Hoseok wasn’t going to ask him what had he been talking about with Hana or why did he even decide to approach her like that.

“Come on. Let's go back. Jungkookie will close the door.” Hoseok said instead.

You listened, letting him take your wrist and walk to the supply base for the second time tonight. You wondered for a moment if Jungkook was going to chase after Hana, but you shook your mind from those thoughts. It wasn’t your life to make decisions and judge them.

A little while after you sat on your seat again, Jungkook came back as well and you somehow felt the rush of relief swimming through your whole body. He slumped down next to Jimin on the couch and said something to him you couldn't make out exactly, but pink-haired man laughed bitterly at that, filling his best friend's glass to the brim.

Next two hours you spent there passed like a blurr. You kept talking with Namjoon's girlfriend practically the whole time. You found out Minhee was studying medicine and she had met Namjoon through some discussion club she had joined in her freshman year. It had been attraction from the first disagreement, as she described it cheekily.

When Namjoon called for Minhee to talk about something on the side, you averted your attention to Hoseok who was sitting in front of his empty glass and scrolling through the phone, clearly discontent with you intentionally avoiding his attempts to tease you about something you had said, or avoiding him in general.

“Aren't you drinking anything?” you asked him with raised eyebrows.

Hoseok snorted. “Someone has to drive you home, princess.”

“Bullshit. I can take the cab.”

“Well then, I don’t feel like drinking anyway.”

You eyed him carefully and then it hit you. “Oh my God,” you blurted out, trying to stifle the giggles blubbering in your throat. “You are not drinking because you are a lightweight!” you accused, not even hiding your amusement now.

“That's not true,” Hoseok grumbled but his red ears gave him away. He was a bad liar.

You pushed his chest with your index finger. “Admit it!”

Hoseok looked at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “Fine, I am. And what about it?”

You giggled. It was probably some champagne mixed with wine you had drank with Minhee speaking through you but you didn’t falter when you said, “Nothing at all. That's cute.”

Hoseok frowned. “Cute?”

“Yeah, cute. You're cute when you're flustered.”

Hoseok parted his lips in both disbelief and annoyance because relatively speaking, you took it out from his mouth. It was his remark, for God's sake, he was the one supposed to say things like that to you. He hadn't drunk even a drop except one, symbolic glass of champagne yet he wanted to argue with you about it like five years old child. Because if anything, you were prettier and yes, cuter than him, and he had a sudden urge to spell it out for you.

Yet he faltered for a moment after hearing abrupt glass crashing from the other corner of the room. You looked in that direction too, seeing half-conscious Jimin slumped down on the couch, Jungkook sitting next to him and saying things to him you didn’t hear. You could make out only “hyung” and “please, calm down” falling from younger's mouth.

Jimin seemed like he had no idea about what was going on around him. When he opened his eyes for a moment they were bloodshot and glassy, probably from too much alcohol he had drank before, or maybe even from something else entirely. Then he murmured something to Jungkook and black-haired boy sighed, standing up from his position and approaching Namjoon and Minhee furiously talking about something in the far corner of the room.

“Here we go again,” Hoseok breathed next to you and you scrunched your eyebrows, focusing your attention on the scene in front of you.

“Hyung, please–”

“No, Jungkook. We can't do that again.”

“Please, I swear it's the last time. He won't let me take him home unless it's with her,” Jungkook pleaded. “It'll worsen anytime soon. I don't want to see him like this."

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think I don't know that Jungkook?! Last time was supposed to be last. And now it's happening again. We can’t continue it like this,” he said, looking in Jimin's direction where Seokjin was trying now to convince him to let go of the half empty vodka bottle Jimin was clutching tightly to his chest.

“Hyung...”

“Stop arguing. I already texted her like 20 minutes ago when I heard he started talking about her again. She's on her way,” Minhee interrupted. “But this has to end. He–they can’t live like that.” she said and Jungkook breathed out heavily with relief, thanking her over and over.

Hoseok hummed next to you, making you jump slightly on your seat from the sudden sound so close in your proximity. “What's happening?” you asked him and he let out a long sigh.

“I don't think you want to see that. I should take you home.”

But before you could answer, someone banged loudly on the back door. Seokjin moved from his seat and opened them, letting inside a girl around your age, dressed in all black. Her hair was dyed in red and she didn’t have any make up on, assuming by the ungodly hour she might have been woken up or she hadn't gone to bed at all.

“Who’s that?” you whispered to Hoseok’s ear.

“That's Nari,” he answered simply, like her name was carrying all the needed information without giving into other details. “Jimin's ex girlfriend and probably the only source of light in his life.”

Nari moved automatically, like it definitely wasn’t the first time she was in similar situation. She crunched down on the floor in front of Jimin's slumped body and touched his thigh lightly, murmuring his name. Jimin's eyes snapped open at that and he blinked a few times, focusing on the sight before him, like he couldn't actually believe she was there, with him, like his head was messing with him and betraying the bloodshot eyes.

“Nari,” he muttered and it sounded unsure, pained. “You're here. You came.”

“Yes, I’m here.” she replied with a soft smile, standing up to sit next to him on the couch.

Jimin's hands reached for her, cupping her face in his shaky palms, thumbs stroking rosy cheeks, checking if she was really here, flesh and blood. “You dyed your hair,” he said softly with croaked voice, putting a strand behind her ear. “You look beautiful.”

It all felt too intimate for you, like you were stepping into a scene you weren’t suppose to be in. You quickly averted your gaze somewhere else. In the corner of your eye you spotted Jungkook looking at what was happening in front of him with blank expression. He had seen it probably many times before, after all. Suddenly, strangled sobs echoed through the room and everyone involuntarily snapped their heads into direction of it.

Nari was hugging Jimin's shaking body, rocking him back and forth as he cried out words into the material of her jacket.

“Please, don't leave me.”

“I won't. I’m here. It's okay,” she kept murmuring to his ear until his breath slowed down enough so she could say, “Let's go home.”

She motioned for Jungkook and he obliged, helping her lift Jimin's limp body from the couch like he weighted nothing. They left without a word, just like that, and heavy silence fell in the room. No one was in right mood to continue celebrating, not after everything that they had just witnessed.

Namjoon was the first one to break the silence. “We will be going. It's been a long day.” he said, placing his hand on Minhee's waist.

“Indeed.” Seokjin agreed. “I’m gonna go upstairs to my place too. I’ll clean up in the morning.”

Hoseok also stood up from his seat, putting his palm on your shoulder. “Come on. It's time for us too.”

You nodded, rushing to bid everyone goodbyes.

Outside, in the middle of the night, where all the demons had left humans bodies making them vulnerable for the bracketing world, you took Hoseok's hand in yours. It was warm, despite the coldness of the air.

“What would you say if we took a walk by the river? I need to clear my mind.”

The puffs of air around your face when you spoke were telling you it was a bad idea, but Hoseok smiled in response.

“I’ll lead the way.”

Long walks by the river were meant for warm summer nights when sun set lately and rose in the very morning before you could blink an eye open. They were meant for the steamy nights, when people didn’t have to worry about the coldness, when they could wander under the starry sky with bare shoulders and heavy eyelids.

October absolutely wasn’t reasonable time for the walks in the middle of the night but this time he weather was kind, merciful. There was no sight of the frost and even though it wasn’t the most pleasant aura, even though hands had to be tucked deep in pockets of the jackets, everything could be bearable.

Maybe somehow, when you reached that point in your life, circumstances stopped being the most crucial, as long as you were with the right person.

Boulevards by the Han River were common spot for the citizens and tourists but not in this time of the year, not when fall was threatening everyone as a trailer of the winter. Colorful lights illuminating themselves on the surface of the water were always the same, no matter which part of the year it was; always mesmerizing, always spectacular even for the people seeing them every single day.

This night however, they seemed to shine not as bright as the stars.

“I feel bad for Jimin and this girl,” you said, breathing out the puffs of air in the process. It had been silent between you and Hoseok since you had left the disaster of a party until this very moment, when you finally gathered up enough courage and inhaled cold air to clear your mind and vocalize your thoughts. “Do you know why did they break up?” you asked Hoseok.

“I don't know the details, just overall,” he answered, keeping his gaze ahead of him. “The only person who knows the truth is probably Jungkook but he had never told us anything.”

You hummed, digging your fists into the pocket of your jacket deeper.

Hoseok continued after a while. “I didn’t lie when I said she was the only source of light for Jimin. Beside her and music, he has nothing to cling onto in his life. There's no Jimin without music. Always has been.”

The images from the previous hours shimmered behind your eyelids. Jimin onstage, feeling himself, singing like he wanted to burn his throat dry, playing the guitar like he wished his fingers grated on the strings. A fierce passion in his eyes, as if he wasn't doing it out of the habit; losing himself in the drumming rhythm because that was his only ability. Then you saw the energy slowly draining away from his body, you saw a broken man, vulnerable to the world he had never had any intention to care about, now caring about him.

You wondered about the others. Was music their one true love and burden?

“What about your friends then? Is music really that important for them too?”

Hoseok thought about an answer for a little while until he decided to respond. “Jungkook grew up with Jimin in the same hometown. Childhood friends, always sticking together through ups and downs, younger doing exactly the same after the older. Jimin always took care of Jungkook and now Jungkook is watching by Jimin.”

You let your mind wander for a moment to Hana. How did she meet Jungkook? There was no doubt they knew each other before she had become your roommate. Did she know Jimin too, if they were raised in the same town? Another couple of questions you were yet to ask but this could wait for now.

“The band and music it's their whole life. They aren't like Namjoon, level-headed with actual plans after he finishes his law studies. Music is just a hobby he's going to put off once he's out of uni.” Hoseok added and there was some sadness about the way he did it, like they were another words at the tip of his tongue he wouldn't dare to say aloud because when unspoken, they hurt less.

“And you?”

Hoseok raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yeah, you. Who am I talking to?” you sassed lightly. “How do you see yourself in three years from now?” you asked and Hoseok chuckled the same way he did when you questioned him about it a month ago in Blue Side. Bitterly.

You motioned for him to sit on one of the benches standing by the boulevards.

“Do you have everything planned for the next three years?” Hoseok countered instead of actually answering you. He waited for you to roll your eyes but you did the exact opposite.

“Well, my mum always tells me that it's good to set up your goals. Even though sometimes you might disappoint yourself when they turn out all wrong.”

Hoseok chuckled. “There's a ballerina speaking through you, princess. And motivational speaker, too.”

“Maybe, but that's not my point,” you fired back, twirling around on the bench so you could sit cross-legged in front of him. “So, Jung Hoseok, hip-hop choreographer wanna be and passionate drummer, will you tell me what are your plans for the future?” you asked again. When you saw him hesitate, you added, ‘”Come on, pretend it's like our 100 questions game. I asked you a question and you shall answer.”

Hoseok sighed heavily. “I think I told you once that I just live the moment,”

“But everyone has some dreams,” you complained. Go on, tell me something boy, are you happy in this modern world,” you sing-songed, breaking into loud laughter in the process that made him chuckle shortly.

Hoseok stared for a few seconds blankly into the calm surface of the river before him, watching as colorful lights changed from blue to green. Sadness blending into hope. He took a deep breath before he spoke.

“Remember when I told you I had moved to Seoul to attend dance school there?” You nodded. “And how I told my parents I was going to study business really hard so they could allow me to learn dancing?” Another nod. “Well, my parents were never quite fond of my passions. First it was drums but they knew from the beginning I treated it more like a hobby than a future career, so they let me do it. Then dancing came. I found something I really wanted to pursue in my life and they, how to put this, never quite accepted my choice.” he said, looking at his hands folded on his lap.

You had never seen him more uneasy, the smiling Hoseok who teased you and and spoke about music with glint in his eyes was long gone and you didn't like this version of him at all.

“You know, I’ve got an older sister. She was-is the apple of my parents eyes. The better child, the best daughter they could ever imagine. She studied abroad, speaks English and Japanese, has a well paid job that makes her afford a nice apartment in Seoul on her own. They wanted me to be like her too, but I guess I never came up to their expectations.” The words he never willed to tell, slipped from his mouth just like that, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

There was a sadness coming from his voice and you found yourself wishing you could swipe it off his face because it didn’t suit him, because gone was Hoseok that made you laugh and played his drums like his life depended on it. Hoseok who conveyed his fierce passion for dancing to the kids he was teaching. All the layers he was putting on every day were slowly slipping off him.

And in that moment you thought how unfair this world was. Your parents gave you wings to fly, to make your dreams come true but his parents were trying to cut them off his whole life.

“I went to the university so I could finally please them, so they would say: ‘Hoseok-ah, we’re so proud of you!’ but I eventually realised it's not for me. That I can't live like this. I met Namjoon, then the rest of the boys. We made a team and I've never felt more free,” Hoseok confessed and for the first time this night, he looked you in the eyes honestly, deeply. “So if you asked me, what's my dream, I would say I just want to be happy. I’ve never wanted to be the best. I just wish I was doing what I love the most, dancing and music.”

You opened your mouth to say something but he raised his hand, stopping you. “If you want to pity me, don’t. I don’t need this.” he said, but it was your turn to shake your head.

“No, I want to say something,” you firmly protested. You lifted your index finger up, pointing at the blackboard sky. There was determination in your voice, a need to convince this boy he was worth much more than he thought. “See those stars? There are literally millions of them on the sky, looking exactly the same from our perspective yet we all admire them. And I’ll tell you more. Every single one is different, special on its own terms,” you said, all the time beating the air with your hands. You ignored the way Hoseok stared at you with raised eyebrows and continued, “Now think about the sun. Yes, it is the biggest star, giant thing and the centre of our solar system but it’ll burn your eyes if you look at it for too long. Those significant stars won't do it and we all wish our dreams to come true while looking at them falling, not at the sun.”

A small smile appeared on Hoseok's face and you reciprocated that, sighing softly. “What I’m trying to say is that you don't have to be the greatest to be admired and respected. You are your own star.” you trailed off, almost whispering the last words like you were afraid of vocalizing them.

You were staring into each other eyes for a whole minute, before you got insecure and looked away with flushed cheeks. “I'm sorry. That was my probably still a little drunk self speaking, don’t mind me. Hana would say it is also my zodiac sign's personality trait.” You put your hands on your cheeks, finding them warm from embarrassment despite the coldness of the night.

If you glanced in Hoseok's direction, you would see him grinning broadly. Who was this girl, he had no idea. He just felt she was going to be someone special for him. His own green flashlight illuminating on the clear surface of the water.

“No, it's okay. I really appreciate that. Thank you.” he said, making you hesitantly turned to face him with raised eyebrows.

“You're welcome. I guess.”

“So,” Hoseok drawled, pointing his chin at you and then on the sky. “How do stars align tonight for Aquariuses?” he asked out of the blue. You thanked it was the middle of the night, so he couldn’t witness the way you furiously blushed.

“Why don't you look for yourself?” you whispered, staring up at the dark, starry sky.

But why would he look at the stars, if for him all of them hid in your eyes?

At some point, next weeks turned into a blurr while gloomy November was approaching, blending everything into grey reality. Life seemed to move on its own and it could be thought that things went back to normal again but deep down, behind set up facades, there was so much more left unspoken than revealed, lying bare and exposed on the table.

You balanced your life between classes at the university, ballet rehearsals after hours and doing your part time job on weekends. With the midterm exams getting closer and closer, you somehow still managed to find time to hang out with Hoseok.

It was weird for you, to spend so much of your free time drinking coffees at Blue Side, eating ramen after practices on Fridays or just listening to him babbling about some other hilarious story involving him and his friends as you walked together to the underground station, with your hand in his under the umbrella, referencing to Rihanna's song probably too many times than necessary.

And normally, looking at you from afar and up close, seeing the intimacy you shared in your stares and muffled laughters, someone could swear you were already dating, that this hanging out carried so much more meaning than you would like to admit. But for some reason, neither Hoseok nor you wanted to speak about this aloud, to give your relationship a label much more bigger than simple friendship.

People around you noticed, obviously, it was hard not to. Some of them teased, others decided not to bring up the subject for the sake of not starting a storm in a teacup.

And life went on like that, day by day, as fall was cleaning the world from the last remains of summer, behind blurry windows a new spring was blossoming for two people.

In the middle of November Hana moved out from your appartment after composing her life enough to afford a place on her own. She got a role in a theater, doing rehearsals every weekend and keeping her mind busy with work during weekdays, because she indeed had a lot to handle since she had come back. And certain raven-haired boy being present again in her life wasn't helping in this situation at all. If anything, his position in the equation made everything much more twisted and complicated.

While your friend was burried deep in her scripts and old blurrs of memories, you were equally engulfed with paper work for your exams. You would have been probably still staring at the same pages for the whole night, if you hadn’t received a message from no one other than Jung Hoseok himself.

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: get your ass up from the couch and go out with me today

[18:56pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: theres some punk rock concert today organized on the campus of YOUR uni

[18:58pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: namjoon gave me his tickets since he cant go with his gf

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: actually im surprised you didn’t tell me anything about this concert. shame on you princess

There was a string of emojis after the last text and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the way your heart fluttered in your chest when you read go out with me, but you eventually composed yourself. Because after all this time, you thought it meant nothing. Simple hanging out, nothing more, nothing less.

[18:59pm] me: fyi i need to study

[18:59pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: come on one free night wont make a big difference

When you weren’t responding for a while, leaving him on read, he typed:

[19:03pm] hip hop choreographer wanna be: pretty pleaseee

But he didn’t know you were already in the bathroom, notes long forgotten on the couch.

“They were sooo bad!”

“Hey, don’t be mean. At least they tried!”

“Oh please, I’m not punk rock expert but I know this Paradise City cover sucked.”

You were walking out of the small campus venue for the concerts, laughing until your lungs burned and cheeks hurt from smiling. The concert didn’t last long, just a few covers and one self composed song, more was actually happening right when you decided to go, leaving the ongoing party behind your backs.

“But they organized free beer. I think I might forgive them,” you added, slurring your words a little and occasionally bumping into Hoseok in the process of trying to stay steady on your feet.

Drinking wasn’t probably the smartest idea you could think of after considering two facts. One: Hoseok hadn't drunk even a sip beacuse he was driving. Two: you had an awful habit of becoming too honest under the influence. And combining those two things was like sitting on a bomb and waiting for it to explode any minute.

You sat in Hoseok’s car with heavy exhale of relief. “Remind me to never drink that much again when I have to study the next day.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and leaning your head on the window.

“Noted.” Hoseok sat down as well, smirking to himself. He reached for the keys but your next words stopped him.

“Can we like, stay here for a while? In your car I mean.” you asked with hesitation in your voice and Hoseok's eyebrows rose high.

“Why?”

“Because it feels nice here. And maybe I don't wanna go back just yet.” The words slipped out from your mouth so casually that you didn’t even noticed the change in the atmosphere. To hell with consequences and aftermaths, to hell with becoming vulnerable when alcohol was swimming in your veins.

Hoseok smiled, even though you couldn’t see him. “Fine. But puke in here and I swear to God–”

“Geez, I hadn’t drink that much,” you snapped, opening your eyes. “Turn on some music, mister drummer. Hit me with that punk rock hits.”

Maybe you had drunk that much after all.

Hoseok chuckled to himself, opening his Spotify and connecting it to the car's radio. “What do you have in mind?”

“Do I look like an expert?” you retorted for the second time this night and Hoseok rolled his eyes. “Just put it on shuffle and I’ll tell you what I like.”

He did as he was told and soon the heavy beats of something that said Stairway to Heaven lighted up on the screen in front of you. You scrunched your eyebrows. “Stairway to Heaven, Highway to Hell, what’s next? Freeway to Purgatory?”

There was a moment of silence before you erupted into laughter. “Fuck, that was funny. Admit it.” you said, wiping the tears that had gathered in the corners of your eyes.

“I'm pretty sure someone had come up with this joke before.”

“God, you’re no fun. Only intellectuals can understand this type of humor and unfortunately, you aren’t one.”

Hoseok ignored your words, changing the song and this one you recognized more than well. “Leave it!” you blurted, causing him to smirk.

“Ah, right. I forgot you’re that original,” he said in mocking tone.

Your lips turned into a scoff. “Hey, don’t disrespect Arctic Monkeys’ AM album this way. That's a masterpiece of modern discography, better than your ‘classics’ sang by old dudes. Alex Turner is hot at least.” You pointed your index finger at him accusingly. When he was about to disagree, you added, “Besides, you have this on your playlist, so don't try to bullshit me right now. You like it as well.”

Hoseok sighed in defeat. “Okay. I wanna be yours it's a nice song. I admit it.”

“Yeah. It is,” you breathed, closing your eyes for a second, basking in the moment. “I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped your mouth and your heartbeat immediately quickened in panic. Fuck, had you really said that out loud? The look of pure surprise mixed with amusement on Hoseok's face were telling you that you indeed revealed that you wanted to get dicked down while Arctic Monkeys played in the background. And of all people you knew, you had to do it in his presence.

Screw your drank thoughts and fantasies, screw stupid string of fate that always played games with you, even now.

You tried to compose yourself a little, acting completely nonchalant about what had just happened. You wore a disguise of unbotherness as best you could (which was pointless, your flushed cheeks and uneasy way you squirmed on your seat said it all for you).

You wished Hoseok didn’t react, that he somehow had misheard your drunken rumbling but it was all foolish hopes.

“Careful what you wish for, princess, because you might just get it.” he whispered and you could swear his voice was lower now, it carried husskiness that weren’t there before. It wasn’t a warning.

It was a threat.

You gulped, your face heating up instantly even more, if that was possible. Suddenly it was hard to breathe in a limited space of his car and you wanted to get out, to run away from him as fast as you could muster and hide, not standing face to face with him ever again.

But at the same time you couldn’t shake off the thought how good and right would it feel if you pressed your lips against his now, run your tongue through the seam of his mouth just to hear him groan in response, just to feel his teeth nipping the skin on your neck while his fingers were digging marks on your hips.

You wanted him, oh, God how much you did, but you had to stop yourself before you made a big mistake.

The atmosphere was thick and heavy with unresolved tension, ready to snap in a minute if only someone made a wrong move. His words rang in your head and you wished you had never left your house that night in first place. Was he for real? Or had he said that only to make fun of you after?

You were too scared to look in his eyes but if you did, you would see in them the raw desire swimming in his dark orbs. And if you did, you would know just how sure of his words he actually was.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you regained your composure as best as you could and muttered, “I don't feel well. Can you drive me home now?” Your tone wasn’t probably much convincing, if anything it sounded weak and strangled, so you added to lighten up the mood, “You don't want me to puke in here, do you?” and forced out a chuckle.

Hoseok only nodded in response, reaching for the keys and turning on the engine. If he was disappointed, he hid it pretty well. After a few minutes of ride back to your home, there was mute between you, except for the music still playing from the radio. His words not even for a second left your head and you replayed them again and again just to make you more and more confused with each time you tried to understand the hidden motive behind them.

Hoseok was hard to read, you realised that since he had became strangely silent after you asked him about his plans for the future on your first coffee meeting at Blue Side. Now you knew why. He’d said he had a lot to reveal about himself yet, after all.

When you bid him short goodbye and finally reached the doors of your apartment, you crunched down on the ground after closing them and shut your eyes tightly. Somehow, tears started to ran down your face and you found yourself clutching your phone and dialing the only number you could think about in this moment.

“Why are you calling me in the middle of the night?” Hana's voice was hoarse, she had been woken up from her slumber without a doubt. “You know I go to sleep earlier than you,” There was a sniffle on the other line and she changed her tone immediately. “What's wrong, bub? Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying,” you tried to protest shakily but there was no point in denying when you sounded like that.

“What happened?” You heard Hana asking softly.

Another wave of tears jolted your body, smearing mascara all down your cheeks and when you calmed down enough to speak clearly, you mumbled, “I told Hoseok that I always wanted someone to fuck me to Arctic Monkeys.”

“Okay…? And how did he react?”

Another sob. “He said I should be careful what I wish for.”

There was a bit of silence before Hana sighed on the other side of the line. “That's not the end of the world. You’ve done worse things in your life.”

“But that's different this time.” you cried out hysterically.

Hana smiled to herself even though you couldn’t see her now. She knew why it was different. She was aware for a while now, but she needed you to say this out loud.

A loud cry echoed through the quiet apartment before you finally said what had been lying on the tip of your tongue for a while now.

“It's different because I think I really like him.”

And fresh fall of tears streamed down your cheeks.

---

a/n: aaaah! it’s finally here! i was supposed to post this by the end of february but my laptop got broken and i got a new one yesterday so im sorry for the delay:( i hope you like it!

ps. second part is coming in two or weeks! love you, julia. xx

#hoseok smut #bts smut #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #btsbookclub #bangtanhq #btswriterscollective #hyungsmutsociety #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts scenario #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fic #my writing

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babycracker · 4 years ago

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline: Chapter 5

chapter rating: teen & up story rating: explicit pairing: morgan/m!oc (tanner drake) & farah/f!oc (sadie kennedy) word count: ~2.7k chapter warnings: none story warnings: eventual smut, canon-typical violence, au - canon divergent

read it on ao3 here

This is so far from ideal, being stuck in the city with this jackass. Morgan glances over at him as they walk side by side, just as Tanner sits a cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

"I'm not any happier about this than you, trust me," he says suddenly without looking at her, his eyes instead darting between the piece of paper that he'd taken back from her when they'd got here and the buildings lining the street.

It's relatively empty right now, but the sun is starting to set and with the shadows and the orange and pink hues that stretch across the shop fronts and sidewalk comes obvious preparations for what looks to be a very busy night life.

Chairs are being moved outside to accommodate alfresco dinners and ropes are going up out the front of nightclubs, several of the neon signs already flickering to life. Morgan really does not want to be here when-

"I assume you're gonna want to be out of here before all this kicks off?" he says her own thoughts out loud back to her, and she stares at him in surprise for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah."

He gives only a short nod in response before nodding up ahead. "There's a motel up here, we can check the bar out tomorrow."

She trails along beside him, surprised that he's being so considerate, yet too grateful that she's not going to have to deal with the lights and noise of the city once the nightlife’s in full swing to question it.

By the time they reach the hotel he's talking about, it's obvious to her that he's been here before. More than once. She watches as he flirts his way around the fact that they don't have a booking with the man behind the counter, then turns to flash her their key card with a grin on his face.

"You want a gold star or something?" she grumbles as he walks back over to her, eager to get away from the bright lights of the lobby.

"If you're offering, I wouldn't object," his grin grows wider, and she rolls her eyes before snatching the card from him and stalking away towards the lift.

"I'm bored," Tanner complains, slouching so low on the couch that he may as well be laying down, tie hanging loosely down either side of his chest, jacket discarded and shirt half open.

Morgan looks away from the reality show they're watching, trying not to let her gaze linger on what she can see of his bare chest as she rolls her eyes at him. "Go to bed."

"That's boring."

If she'd known she was going to have to babysit the bloody guy she might have put up more of a fight about being sent away with him.

"If I could stand you a little more, I might offer to join you," she smirks at him and he narrows his eyes at her.

"Pass," he sits up suddenly, starting to button his shirt again. "I'm going out."

She scowls at his nonchalant dismissal of her offer, starting to grow tired of it. She should be used to it by now, she should’ve already given up. But he shows some interest, sometimes. Just enough to keep her thinking that there might be a chance, and what can she say? She loves a challenge.

"You can't," she protests, and he raises an eyebrow at her as he fixes his tie.

"You gonna stop me?"

She rolls her eyes again, "don't get drunk and don't bring anyone back here."

"You jealous?" he grins at her, and she huffs out a sigh and turns the television off.

"Of your ability to get drunk? Very,” she answers disinterestedly as she pulls her jacket on, pausing when she sees him watching her. “What? I’m coming with you.”

“Why?”

“To make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not a child.”

“Don’t act like one and you won’t get treated like one,” she snaps back at him as he pulls his jacket on, and he just chuckles and holds an arm out to her as though he expects her to hook hers in with it.

“Shall we?” he asks, nothing but laughter in his voice as she stares at his arm in what could almost pass as disgust.

She slaps his arm away and stalks out into the hall ahead of him. “I’m not one of your bimbos.”

“You’d have to get in my pants to be one of my bimbos,” he answers from behind her, and she doesn’t even bother to spare him a glance over her shoulder, let alone answer him.

“I can feel you staring, you know,” she informs him once they’ve made it out onto the street without bothering to look back at him, and he grins and jogs a couple of steps to catch up and walk beside her.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.”

“No one’s pretending, sweetheart,” she answers distractedly as they get closer to the nightclubs they’d seen being set up earlier and she catches him frowning at her in the corner of her eye.

“You good?” he asks, and she rolls her eyes.

“I don’t need you to pretend you give a shit.”

He doesn’t answer, to her surprise, but after a moment he slings an arm around her shoulder and pulls her in close to him, turning her down a side street and away from the noise and the bright lights.

She doesn’t want to admit it, even to herself, and she’s definitely not about to tell him, but being tucked into his side like this is somewhat grounding. The sounds and the smells start to fade away as she focuses on the feel of being pressed against him and his firm grip on her shoulder. It somehow makes everything else around them a little less overwhelming.

The background distractions finally fade away enough for her to realise that she’s not in a position she wants to be in, and she shrugs his arm off and gives him a small shove away from her. “Alright, don’t get comfortable.”

They make their way through a few more small streets, barely more than alleys, coming to stop at a rundown building, the quiet murmur of voices filtering through the partly splintered wooden door.

"If you're planning to try and kill me you better have brought your A-game," she tells him, giving him a pointed glare before turning back towards the door.

He chuckles lightly and pushes the door open, pressing himself against it to make room for her to reluctantly sidestep past him into what she now sees is a pub.

It's dark, only a few dull lights dotted through the entire building, just enough to make it possible for humans to make their way around. Dark and quiet. There's background music playing, but it's so quiet that she's sure she'd barely hear it without her heightened senses.

The other patrons are gathered in small groups in booths, talking quietly amongst themselves. None of them even seem to notice Morgan and Tanner as they make their way over to the bar.

There are no pool tables, no dart boards, no nothing, and Morgan can't help but shoot Tanner a questioning glance as she slips onto a bar stool and he leans back against the bar on his elbows almost directly in front of her. Why would he bring her to a place like this? Not that she's complaining - far from it, really - but she'd been almost certain that he was going to deliberately expose her to agonisingly bright strobe lighting and thumping bass just as some kind of pay back for her insistence on accompanying him.

"What?" he asks, his defensive tone contrasting the casual way he's leaning against the surface behind him, how weirdly comfortable and at home he seems to be here.

A large, heavy pair of hands slap down on the bar in front of her before she can say anything, and she looks away from him towards who she assumes is the bartender.

He's big. He'd make Adam and Nate look small. He certainly makes Tanner look small. Half of his face has been scarred to the point of almost being unrecognisable by what looks to be slashes done with either a sharp blade or a sharp set of claws. His eyes narrow and his lips twist into a snarl as he eyes the back of Tanner, who lets out a huff of a sigh.

"Thought I told you not to come here again, Drake," he growls, his voice deep and rough, very real threat dripping from every slow spoken word.

Tanner rolls his eyes, shooting Morgan a grin before curving it into a placating and annoyingly charming smile as he turns around. "But I didn't think you were serious, Mickey. You have to admit I pretty the place up."

Morgan’s eyes dart between the two, waiting to get kicked out, but to her surprise Mickey lets out a defeated sigh and turns his attention to her. “Who’s this?”

“Vampire,” Tanner answers without hesitation, and Morgan’s eyes widen, her hand shooting out to slap him on the shoulder before she can stop it and making the large bartender laugh.

“Don’t worry honey, this one’s about the closest to a human you’ll find in here,” he reassures her, nodding towards Tanner as he takes a seat beside her.

A supernatural bar. Now it’s making a little more sense; the unassuming entrance that you wouldn’t even suspect an establishment was hiding behind if you didn’t already know it was there, the lowered lighting, the peaceful quiet in comparison to other bars she’s been in.

She quirks a brow at Tanner as he orders two beers, surprised that he’s bothered to bring her to such a place.

“Not what you were expecting?” he asks, casting a small smirk in her direction.

“I’m learning not to expect much from you,” she answers disinterestedly, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much she appreciates that she’s brought her here instead of somewhere noisier and brighter.

So maybe she’s not so bad. Maybe he was a little off when he’d assumed that she’s a bitch and his interest would never stretch beyond wanting to sleep with her. Maybe he’s actually enjoying her company a little now that she’s loosened up a little and isn’t acting as though she’s counting down the seconds until she can be done with him.

Not that he was doing anything different until about an hour ago, when he’d finally managed to convince her to get away from the bar and into an especially shadowed booth with him in the corner of the room. She’s still a little off, her hands wrapped around her beer bottle, tapping on it slowly and not offering much of a response to his conversation, but at least she’s not looking at him with quite as much disdain as she was in the beginning.

He supposes it’s his own fault. He has been kind of a prick to her since he met her.

“So, how’d you find this place?” she asks after a moment of silence and he hesitates, drumming his fingers on the table in front of them before glancing over at her.

“Work,” he answers simply. It’s not a complete lie. Not exactly the whole truth either.

She looks up at him, a slow smirk stretching across her face before she nods towards Mickey behind the bar. “It took me a while, but I recognise him.”

Well, shit. He didn’t think that Units not directly involved in missions knew about anyone who was.

“Yeah?”

She nods, then gives a shake of her head and looks away from him, though the smirk remains on her face. “We’ve been looking for him for a while,” she pauses, taking a swig of her beer before looking back over at him. “Didn’t realise you’d already found him.”

“Not everyone deserves to have to live by their rules,” he comments bitterly.

“You know I need to report this when we get back.”

“You could, but then I’d have to kill you,” he retorts jokingly, though he’s not entirely sure that it’s as much of a joke as her scoffed laughter has him believe that she thinks it is.

So he doesn’t turn everyone over, it’s not the big deal that the Agency makes it out to be. Some of the supernaturals that refuse to sign the treaty do so for reasons that have nothing to do with chaos or violence. Sometimes they just want to do their own thing. Like opening a bar specifically for supernaturals with heightened senses who struggle to cope with standard human recreation. Supernaturals like her.

Sometimes he lets people go because he knows it’s going to benefit him in the future. Sometimes he’s just feeling particularly rebellious and pissed off at the Agency and just lets them go because he can. None of it changes the fact that he has one of the best track records of all the bounty hunters associated with the Agency. Good enough for no one to really have anything to say on the rare occasion that he doesn’t return successful.

“You could try,” she replies after a while when it seems to dawn on her that he might be more serious than she’d initially thought.

“I don’t try.”

His response draws a halt to their conversation, reminding them both that they’re not friends and they’re only stuck here together because they have to be. Because she does as she’s told and he has no intention of Adam du fucking Mortain snitching on him for bailing on his duties and getting him caged.

The silence is starting to grate on his nerves when her phone ringing in her pocket disturbs it, and he lets out a sigh of relief, relaxing back against the seat and watching her carefully as she talks to who he assumes is either Adam or Rebecca, judging from the amount of respect she’s showing.

Respect or not, she lets out a displeased sounding sigh when she hangs up and looks over at him.

“Well, this is going to take longer than we thought.”

“Because?”

“Because your next bounty is in this city. And now I’ve been drafted to help you.”

He stares at her blankly, hoping that the horror he feels is just as obvious on his face as it is on the inside.

“I work alone,” is all he manages, his mind racing through everything that could go wrong with a loyal Agent tailing him.

“Not this time.”

“Every time.”

She shrugs and nudges at him to get him out of her way so that she can get to her feet. “I don’t know what to tell you, you’ll be getting a call about it tomorrow. Adam just wanted to give me a heads up that we’re gonna be here a while, I need to get to the facility for extra rations.”

He groans dramatically and lets his head fall to the table with a thud, closing his eyes and already trying to think of ways to ditch her.

“I’m going back to the motel. Don’t come back until you’re done being a drama queen,” he hears her mutter, raising a hand to flip her off without looking up before he hears her walk away.

This is a fucking disaster. He doesn’t exactly complete his jobs entirely by the book. He’d had it drummed into him for months and months, whatever it takes, so that now he takes that phrase very literally. Except that he’d been taught that with the expectation that no one from the Agency would ever have to directly deal with what it takes, because what it takes is usually not pretty, not straight forward, and most likely heavily frowned upon, even by the people who want him to do it.

Having Morgan with him is going to make things immensely difficult, especially given how she’d reacted to him mildly threatening Helk in Wayhaven. If she can’t handle him threatening to break a couple of fingers, how is she going to go watching him do whatever it takes?

Not to mention the fact that most of his reputation comes from people knowing that he doesn’t work well with others, doesn’t get close to anyone, doesn’t care about anyone. How is it going to look when he shows up with a little vampire sidekick?

Like his job needs to be any more unbearable.

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @ambrosykim @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @agentnolastname @utterlyinevitable @masonscig

#twc writing #the wayhaven chronicles #unit bravo #a du mortain #n sewell #f hauville #twc morgan #tanner drake #sadie kennedy #fire meet gasoline #chapter update #n*fw #kat writes

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fanofnightz · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine

Group x Reader

Being best friends with Guns N' Roses

You had met the boys a few days after one of their gigs at the Whisky a Go Go you had been to

They had gone for a drink at the bar you had worked at and you couldn't help but tell them what you thought about them

Soon, you had them all wrapped around your finger with your knowingness of music

Whenever they had shown up at the bar, they had asked you about your opinion on things until one day, they had invited you to one of their rehersals

After that, you had been with them more and more

Of course, Axl had tried to chat you up in the beginning

So ever since then, you had this funny flirty thing going on with him but neither of you took it seriously

Hey baby won't you come here and sit on my lab so you can feel my dick grow hard?

I don't think that I would feel much even if you were hard as rock.

The boys stayed over at your place so often that you didn't even made the effort to put the bedsheets they used back into the closet

Making food for them was a MESS

They all were in your tiny kitchen with you to watch you cook until you had to kick them out

You were lucky if they left something over for you because as soon as the food was ready, they literally attacked it like young dogs

Once, they had eaten everything you'd made and then they had tried to cook something for you in return but they had just almost burned down your kitchen

When one of them wanted to do something illegal at your place, you dragged them out of your apartment by their ears

Ouch, ouch, ouch, Y/N you're HURTING me! My hair! Don't pull my hair!

Don't you dare bringing your drugs into my apartment ever again! I could get sued for that shit!

That's it! I'll never come back here again!

In the end, they always were back at your door, asking you for forgiveness

Of course, you let them come back in because you knew that they would be lost without you

But you had to admit that you needed them as well

They always cared about you and worried about you more than they needed to

Surprinsingly, whenever you had a problem or were down, Izzy was the best to talk to because his advice were good and his way to not give too many fucks about something calmed you down

But when you just needed to cheer up, Steven was the right one to go to because he would just make jokes and tickle you until you were happy again

Chilling was the best with Slash, he was able to be really calm if he wanted to be and playing with his wild curls was really relaxing

Can I braid them? Or can I straighten them? Pleaaase let me straighten them!

I'm not your barbie doll, Y/N!

I know you also want to know how they would look

Okay do it. But don't you dare telling anyone!

If you were angry or really hyper, Axl always took you somewhere to destroy something or to just freak out together and most times, you had to run from the cops afterwards, so you didn't do it a lot

Duff was just the best to do drugs with if you did it on rare occasions, he always took care of you and made sure you didn't take too much or did something you would regret afterwards

He also was really helpful if you weren't able to reach something because he was much taller than you

Whenever you were at a party, at least one of the boys had an eye on you

And oh dear if someone came too close to you without your permission, they were DEAD

Not that you weren't able to protect yourself, but your "bodyguards" were faster than you

Duff once ended up getting arrested for fighting with a guy that had touched your boobs while you were dancing

He got away with it and the next day, you threw a surprise party for him (that had ended with the worse hangover you had ever had)

Whenever the boys did a show, you were there to support them and to be their roadie

Of course, you also helped them with their make-up, but it took them a few times until they fully trusted you with doing it

Don't you dare messing this up, Y/N, I need to look like a rockstar

Stop being a whiny bitch, you would look like a rockstar even if you wore a bright pink princess dress

You always stood right next to the stage, watching them with a proud smile

Afterwards, you were the first to tell them how good they did and to be there for them

When they rehersed and were doing new songs, you helped them figuring out the sound of the song and sometimes you even were able to help them come up with lyrics

Steven loved to teach you play the drums and you always had much fun with it even if you were AWFUL

Slash and Duff also sometimes tried to teach you to play guitar and bass but they stopped after one of the strings on Slash's favourite guitar had broken while you had been playing it

Because of that, Izzy never even let you touch his guitars

After the boys had gotten their record deal, they took you with them to the studio almost every time

They ALWAYS asked for your opinion

How was this take? Did you like it better than the last one?

It was awesome. Just like the one before that. This is the 5th time of you asking me that within the last 20 minutes. Stop being so insecure about your playing.

When their first album was finished, you were the first one to listen to it and oh boy you felt like a proud mum

After Appetite For Destruction had dropped, you also were the first one to buy the record, even though the boys had already given you one

And as they got popular more and more and suddenly were big stars, you stayed by their side, supported them everywhere you were able to and tried to keep them grounded

During their first big tour, you worked as their "Lady for the Important and the Fun Stuff" (what the boys called you) because you helped everywhere and kinda were the glue that kept everything together and made everything work

And shit yes, it was a hell of a job to take care of Guns N' Roses, but you knew that you wouldn't trade your boys for anything in the world

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randomly-a-fan · 3 years ago

Text

Father’s Day Prep

WARNING: Small act of violence

At Camp Crystal Lake, it was nighttime and Malon was already put into bed. So MJ and Jason have a little time by themselves in their room; Jason wanted to go out on a perimeter check, but it’s been awhile since they finally have some time for themselves, so he decided to let that past... for now. “Now Jason, you do remember that me and Malon are going out with Eric to get a few things, right?” MJ reminded. Jason nodded slowly and he remembered; a while ago, MJ needed to get some things for Father’s Day, and Eric offered to take her and Malon to the mall. Jason didn’t like the idea on trusting Eric with his special girls, especially from the time Eric have brainwashed her into making her want to runaway since he told her that she has Stockholm Syndrome. It took awhile to persuade Jason... Strangely enough, Malon talked her dad into letting her and mom go out with Eric; how can Jason say ‘no’ to a cute little face?

Jason is still a little worried at first, until MJ crawled onto Jason’s lap and kissed him passionately; Jason was suppose to go out on a perimeter check, but then he thought to himself before he passes out in lust, ‘just one night... sorry mom...’ Jason praised before removing her shorts...

***

When morning came, Malon woke up excitedly and rushed into her parent’s room and climbed onto their bed with excitement. “Mommy mommy mommy, it’s morning, wake up!” Malon jumped excitedly. MJ and Jason woke up slowly and smiled a little. “Malon, I know you’re excited to go out to the city with me and Eric, but it’s still early, we still have a few hours before Eric gets here.” MJ explained. Malon relaxes and crawls up between her parents. “Sorry about the wake up call, I’m just so excited; it’ll be my first time EVER to go out to the mall... The last time I went out shopping is when Archie and I went out to buy you that drawing book... Then I got grounded...” Malon said before she turned her head towards her dad. Jason nodded as he remembered that day; it really scared him to see Malon disappeared. Of course it’s long over now and Malon knows better than to run off without permission. “Well... apparently I feel wide awake, so I guess I’ll make us a big breakfast.” MJ said as she got out of bed and put on her robe.

MJ couldn’t make a hearty breakfast by herself so Jason offered to make the half portions by making the bacon while MJ does the scrambled eggs, hash browns and toast. “Thanks for the help Jason, what can I ever do without you?” MJ thanked. Jason rubbed her back as a response before he finished cooking the bacon. “Just in time, the eggs and hash browns are ready.” Then the toaster popped. MJ and Jason high-fived each other before Jason dished them out while MJ fetches her daughter, who is still working on a picture for her dad for Father’s day. “Alright sweetie, it’s time for breakfast, now please go wash up.” MJ instructed calmly.

***

After breakfast and cleaning up the kitchen, MJ was getting herself dressed and washed up and then helped Malon get ready. Jason was waiting for Eric to get here, until he heard the car horn. Jason knocked on Malon’s door to let his wife know that Eric’s here. “We’ll be right out, give us about two minutes.” MJ called out to the other side.

Eric was waiting patiently and no one came out, so he honked his horn again. A second later, Jason knocked on Eric’s window... a little roughly and caused a crack on the window. “Oh dear God!” That’s all Eric can say. He was too petrified of Jason, after they have encountered a confusing fight between them while MJ was gone. Jason wanted to give Eric a sheet of paper; telling him what not to do or say, and what will happen if something tragic happens to his special girls. He also made a diagram of MJ’s silhouette body with the red slashes; telling him where he’s not aloud to touch MJ.

Eric looked at the red slashes, he can simply understand about the body parts that was covered by a bathing suit, and the upper legs and stomach. Eric may have an idea on why the neck area was slashed; probably because it’s her most sensitive area, but he was confused about the left wrist and head though. “Why not the wrist and head--” Eric jolted when Jason lifted his machete with the sound of his fist and knuckles crack. “Okay okay… ixnay on the head and wrist-nay.” Eric said quickly.

Jason then looked over Eric’s car and saw MJ and Malon coming out with their purses. He walked over to them before gave them a loving hug and a kiss. MJ noticed Jason gripping her hand, as he was nervous. “Malon, you go on ahead and get into the car, Eric will help you with the seatbelt.” MJ said to Malon, “okay... *to Jason* See you later daddy!” Malon said excitedly before she lets Eric help her into his car. While MJ tries to comfort Jason, then she came up with an idea. “Jason, I understand that you’re worried about me and Malon, especially after what happened a few weeks ago...” MJ said awkwardly while twirling her hair. “...So I thought of an idea...” MJ took off her special ring that her grandmother gave her for her birthday a long time ago.

It had two stars with little diamonds in it and two little gold stars on each end. “As you may remember back when you and I started dating that I’m so attached to my Enchanted Disney Ring that my grandma bought for me for my birthday a long time ago...” MJ placed her ring in Jason’s hand and closed it. “I do not want to leave without my special ring, so I’m putting you in charge in guarding my ring with your life... That just proves to you that me and Malon will return home safely... Would you take care of my ring for me?” MJ asked with a smile. Jason looked at the ring; he knew how much MJ loves the ring and never want anything to happen to her precious ring; he was surprised that MJ wanted to give him the ring to protect it. Jason crossed his heart with his hand before kissing his wife passionately as he knew that she would never leave him for good.

***

When they made it to the mall, Malon was amazed, this was her first time being at the mall, it was huge. Of course, she has been told multiple times everyday ‘til this day that she has to be on her best behavior and not get the ‘gimmies’ and not wander off alone since she can easily get lost.

MJ was window shopping as she was trying to look from a distance on what would be right for her husband, until something caught Malon’s eye. “Mommy look!” MJ looked over at where she was pointing. She noticed that Malon was looking at the Grizzly Bear slippers for men. As a matter of fact, they’re at a store for big men, since Jason is big and built, she realized that the store called ‘Big’n Built’ would be the best place to look for Jason’s gift. “Hmm... I think your dad would love these, especially when his feet are usually cold, and you know what will go good with these slippers?” MJ walked over to the aisle where they have housecoats and PJs, she noticed a forest-green housecoat; it was so soft and warm and it will fit Jason perfectly. “How about I pay for this housecoat, and you can pay for the slippers? it’s half-price which is good.” MJ suggested. Malon grew excited and agreed on the idea.

After MJ and Malon paid for the gifts for Malon’s dad. MJ thought it was time for a snack, so they went over to the food court where they meet Eric. “I see you’ve found something for your dad.” Eric assumed to Malon. “I got daddy Bear Slippers, they’re so cool, they look like real bears!” Malon said excitedly. MJ chuckled, “lower your voices Malon, there’s people here who are trying to eat.” MJ said. Malon sat quietly as she eats her doughnut that she picked out while her mom eats her warm cinnamon roll.

***

Just before they were going to leave for home, Malon needed to make a pit stop, so they waited for Malon near the bathroom. Which gives Eric a chance to talk to MJ in private without Malon hearing it. “You know... MJ... I feel really bad for making you feel stressed and confused...” Eric confessed. “I rather that we don’t discuss about this critical mess...” MJ snapped in a calm way.

While Eric explains about what Jason did to Eric about a week ago, and how he threatened him today, the shadow demon slowly submerges into Eric’s soul to manipulate him to do and say whatever it wants him to. “Eric, I know Jason can be pushy, he was like that with my daughter’s friend’s dad as well--” “You need to leave him! Look what he did to my FACE” Eric exclaimed, as he was being possess, but MJ didn’t know that. “Eric, what’s happened to you? you’re not The Eric I remembered--” “THEN YOUR ON YOUR OWN” Eric exclaimed all demon like before he slapped her in the face. Remember, Eric would never do or say such a thing to MJ, the shadow demon was manipulating poor Eric and could not control himself.

After Malon came out, MJ grabbed Malon and her things and carried her away from Eric, as she thought that Eric was being mentally ill and acted violently onto her. Malon looked over her mom’s shoulder and noticed the dark shadow escaping Eric’s body, Malon could not believe her eyes, she wanted to tell her mom, but she wasn’t paying attention as she was trying to run as fast as she could.

Eric finally snapped out from whatever has been controlling him. “MJ?” before he had the chance to look for MJ and Malon, he was being stopped by the mall cop. “Sir, you’re coming with me until the authorities arrive to take you away.” the mall cop said. Eric was shocked, “what did I do?” Eric asked in confusion.

***

Meanwhile, after a few minutes from running away from the mall, she exhaustively puts Malon down and decided to walk towards the nearest store. They were at the ‘Bass Pro Shoppe’ which was connected to ‘Star Bucks’. MJ and Malon were about to enter the shop until they bumped into Aquarius who just came out from shopping for camping gears. “MJ, is that you?” Aquarius asked with a smile and excitement. “Aquarius, I didn’t expect to see you here! What are you doing here?” MJ asked as they both share a hug. “I was just buying some important camping gear for my husband and son, they were going on a camping trip on a Father’s Day weekend. What about you?” Aquarius asked. Malon answered Aquarius’s question, “we went and bought my dad a new pair of Bear Slippers and a Housecoat!” Malon exclaimed excitedly.

Aquarius smiled until she noticed MJ tearing up with her lips quivering. “MJ... Are you okay, what’s wrong?” Aquarius asked in concern. “It’s kind of a long depressing story...” MJ said trying to hold back the tears. “How about we talk it over with some hot chocolate, my treat.” Aquarius offered.

***

After MJ explained to Aquarius about what happened, Aquarius nodded as she has been through the same situation. “I can imagine how stressful that could be, dealing with sick-minded people. I’ve been through dreadful times like this... What surprises me is that he told you that you have Stockholm Syndrome... Maybe one of these days you should make an appointment with my cousin and talk to her about your problem; Cassandra is the person to trust, I should know, she received a high diploma on her PhD.” Aquarius offered. MJ thought about what Aquarius said. She would like someone to talk to, but only to the ones she can trust, she considered Aquarius as a friend and Cassandra was a Graduate Physician so maybe a nice conversation is what MJ needs, so she accepts the offer. “When my cousin is free, I’ll be sure to ask her for you and then I can set you up with her in private.” Aquarius offered. “Thanks Aquarius, you’re a sweetheart.” MJ complimented.

Aquarius noticed Malon is getting sleepy, it was almost time for her nap too, so Aquarius made another offer. “If you want, MJ, I’d be more than obliged to drive you and Malon back to Crystal Lake, after all I am heading that way anyway.” Aquarius offered. “Oh my God Aquarius, you’re a life saver.” MJ teared up.

***

As Aquarius drove MJ and Malon home, Malon fell asleep through the rest of the ride. When they got back, MJ grabbed her things over her shoulder and carried Malon out of the car feeling exhausted. Jason was watching from inside the cabin and sighed in relief, he’s happy to see that MJ and Malon were back home. However, he didn’t understand why Aquarius drove the girls home; what happen to Eric?

Jason went out and immediately helped MJ by taking Malon into his grasp and put her to bed. MJ didn’t seem to notice that Jason noticed a blackeye, he wanted an explanation, but now wasn’t the time, so he waved to Aquarius before she drives away.

MJ walked into her and Jason’s room and plopped onto the bed feeling exhausted and went to sleep. After Jason puts Malon to bed for her nap, he was going to see MJ and get some explanations; about the blackeye that she wasn’t aware of and about why Aquarius drove her and Malon home instead of Eric. Until he sees that MJ was very tired and doze off, so he carefully tucked her in and kissed her hand that was hanging off the bed before putting her ring on her finger.

Jason will have to ask her later when she wakes up. Right now he’s just happy that his family is back home safely.

#Friday the 13th #Jason Voorhees #Shadow Man #Shadow Demon #MJ #Malon #Eric #Aquarius #fan fiction #fandom

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personasintro · 5 years ago

Text

Next Door | myg [oneshot]

⏤𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; Your neighbor doesn’t respect your complaints about him being loud, but you don’t let it slide so easily.

⏤𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: mentions of masturbation, strong language, dirty talk, oral sex [female and male receiving], spanking, slight ass play, rough sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm

⏤𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: fluff (?), smut

⏤𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻��: 10.3k

m.list / ko-fi

A/N: Yes cats can growl. Also, don’t forget to follow me for more ^.^ and let me know what you think about this one!

A big groan leaves your lips as you cover your ears while shutting your eyes. The sound of loud music echoing throughout your bedroom even through your covered ears. Fucking asshole. You curse at your fucking rude neighbor who blasts his music every night and if not — you can hear some whiny girly moans as the headboard of his bed bangs against the thin wall. You already live here for two months — two months with constant disturbance caused by your neighbor. You check the clock on your phone.

10:05pm.

Another bass echoes throughout the thin walls. That’s it. You angrily put your slippers before tying up your fluffy pink robe. You storm out of your apartment, legs stopping in front of your neighbor’s front door. Knocking, you cross your arms over your chest as you wait for him to get his rude ass over there. As you wait a whole minute for him to open the freaking door — there’s nothing happening. You can still hear the music blasting through his apartment and that’s when you decide to angrily knock on his front door. Over and over again. You’re ready to kick the door when they suddenly open causing you to stop your movements.

The first thing you notice are his sharp eyes glancing down at you. You’ve seen him couple of times, but not so close. Black T-shirt is hugging his torso as gray sweatpants match his whole outfit. “Can I help you?” he quirks his eyebrows at you, looking at you with annoyed expression. That audacity.

You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your hands over your chest once again showing your annoyance towards him. “Yeah, can you turn the volume down?” you ask as he just stares at you.

“Does it bother you?” he asks, as his lips stretches to a little smirk. He sees the annoyance and anger on your face and it amuses him. You standing there in your fluffy robe and ridiculous slides. Who the hell dresses like that?

“Obviously. It’s already ten.” you inform him as he just shrugs his shoulders.

“And?”

“And? Turn the volume down or I’m calling police!” you bark at him loosing your patience. But you only grow even angrier and annoyed when you see the amused expression he holds.

“No need to be so snappy, kitty.” He muses as he sees your face getting red. Red from anger.

“Kitty?” you say through your gritted teeth as you see he has a one big show from this.

“Okay, I’ll turn the volume down. Happy?” he rolls his eyes as your lips twitches in annoyance.

You don’t say anything back, scared you’d probably slap him across his handsome face. As you turn around, you hear his voice. The raspy and sweet voice but at the same time too annoying.

“Oh, by the way... nice slippers, kitty.” he says with smirk before closing his front door. You look at the closed door dumbfounded before adverting your eyes to your slippers. To your very comfortable and fluffy slippers with cat’s plushie head. Kitty. That asshole. You angrily storm inside your apartment — silent apartment.

Thank god.

You smack your lips in delight from the amazing sleep you managed to got. The fresh sheets feels amazing on your body and skin as the scent of your fabric softener fills your nose. Blissful. You’re awake but your eyes stay closed while you're enjoy the sound of birds warbling outside. The soft sound of little ‘meow’ is heard — maybe too close for it to be outside. You open your eyes to see a white cat sitting on your bed looking straight at you. You jump in your bed causing the cat hiss at you as you’ve scared her.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim with your raspy slash morning voice as you stare at the small pet glaring at you. How did it get here?

You knew you should’ve left your balcony door closed. You wouldn’t leave it opened, if this summer wouldn’t be too hot at nights to bare it without air conditioning. Which you don’t have, so the only option was to sleep with opened windows and balcony door. You step on your balcony, sun blinding you for a moment causing you to squint your eyes at the brightness. You’re trying to find where the cat could come from, since you’re living on the third floor it couldn’t jumped in from the tree. You look to your right seeing your neighbor’s — annoying neighbor’s — balcony door opened. Of course it’s his cat. You’ve seen him couple of times with a cat food in his hands as he came from the grocery shopping. Poor cat. Thanks to the balconies being really close to each other, it was no trouble for the cat to jump into yours. You walk in to your bedroom seeing the cat sitting on the same spot.

“Okay, you gotta go,” you tell her as you’re trying to forget the fact you’re talking to an actual cat. You try to pick her up only for her to hiss at you, her nose scrunching as she reveals her sharp teeth. “Fucking cat, even his cat is rude.” you mumble as you’ve jumped in fear.

Reaching for your robe, putting on your kitty slippers your neighbor commented about — you barge out of your apartment. You knock violently against his front door, your morning ruined by him once again. And his freaking cat. Your stomach grumbles in desperate need of breakfast and coffee, but no, here you’re banging on his door once again.

“Jesus Christ, can you stop knocking so much?” he grumbles as he opens his front door seeing you. His hair is tousled as he squints his eyes at you. You woke him up. But you don’t even feel bad about it. Your eyes has mind on their own as you check out his pyjamas. Black T-shirt with some dark blue pyjamas shorts hugs his posture perfectly and you hate him for that. His simple pyjamas looks perfect on him even though he looks tired. Although, he smirks at you as he sees you checking him out.

You blush standing your ground as you quickly advert your eyes away from him. “Your fucking cat is in my apartment!” you bark at him. “It had to go through your balcony to mine.” you explain.

“She.” he speaks as you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“Huh?” you look at him dumbfounded, already annoyed with his presence.

“It’s she. Not it.” he informs you with annoyance causing you to roll your eyes.

“I don’t fucking care. Take it,” you demand and he raise his eyebrow at you. “Take it or I’m throwing it out of the balcony!” you say maybe too exaggerated but you don’t care.

“You wouldn’t dare!” he gasps as he angrily shoots you a nasty glare. Of course you wouldn’t. You love animals which includes cats as well — but he doesn’t know that. Plus it seems like that cat doesn’t like you.

“Oh, watch me,” you provoke him as you’re turning around already opening your front door. His loud steps are following you before he barges inside your home completely dismissing you. “Hey! You can’t just walk in!” you call out at him as he ignores you calling his cat’s name.

“Holly!” he calls out as he whistles the sound of loud 'meow' coming from your bedroom. She runs to her owner already rubbing her body against his legs. He picks her up as she purrs loudly. He turns around walking out of your home as you’re following him.

“You’re welcome!” you yell at him but he ignores you as you angrily shut your front door.

You’re in the middle of doing your grocery shopping as you notice familiar figure couple of meters away. He glances at the different cups of ramen as he tosses a few into his little basket. You turn around with annoyance already creeping its way out as you remember his rude trespassing to your home. You’re walking to a different direction, purposely, as you’re taking all of your groceries from the basket ready to pay for it. There’s a kind woman as a cashier, greeting you politely before scanning your items. You glance behind you seeing him standing right there already looking at you. None of you say ‘hi’ while both of you look annoyed as hell. You kindly smile at the cashier as you pay for your items putting it in your plastic bag. It takes you a while as he pays for his own stuff, mostly ramen and cat’s food. By the time you already hid your groceries, you’re both walking out of the store. You stop in your tracks as rain is pouring, the nitrous air fills your nose. And of course, you forgot to bring an umbrella. You didn’t even know it was supposed to rain! You quickly walk squinting your eyes as the rain hits your face wetting your clothes and hair.

“Do you want a ride?” you hear him as he opens his car with the car keys. The look of surprise doesn’t go unnoticed. You really need it but the way he’s looking at you with those sharp eyes like he’s already regretting asking you that.

“No, thanks.” you mutter as you start walking away.

“Fine, then be drenched by rain.” he yells unbothered making you stop in your tracks. He’s right. It doesn’t look like it’s stopping any second and you still have at least ten minutes walk to your apartment building. And you’re already getting drenched up and the last thing you need is for you to get sick.

“Fine.” you say quickly walking to his car, already sitting in it.

He doesn’t say anything simply turning the engine on. The way to your home is awkward, as the droplets of rain are hitting the car but it oddly feels calm. “So, I don’t get ‘thank you’ from you?” he speaks as he stops his car to let people pass by with their umbrellas at crossing.

“You mean the thank you I never got?” you quirk your brow at him as he doesn’t spare you a glance, looking at the road in front of him. You’re looking all annoyed at him but you secretly admire him as the black hoodie looks way good on him with his matching black cap.

“Thank you for what?” he asks confused as you scoff.

“For getting your cat, of course.” you answer while shaking your head in disbelief. Did he already forget?

“The last time I checked, I was the one who got her.” he says and you gape at his rudeness.

“Oh, that’s right. You’ve disrupt my home privacy by barging in like you own it.” you scoff as he chuckles.

“I was trying to get Holly back,” he simply says and you’re quite surprised. No rude response? You almost feel bad for being so rude to him. “And if I were you I wouldn’t go there since you’re the one barging on my doorstep every day.” he adds as he spits those words at you. You take it back. You definitely don’t feel bad about your attitude.

“W—what?” you gape at him in disbelief as you see satisfied smirk on his lips and if he wouldn’t be driving, you would barge at him. Luckily for him, your safety is on the first place. “If you would stop blasting that awful music so loud I wouldn’t be doing that! I’m not even talking about how you should shut up your girl’s mouth!” you bark at him, frustration clear in your voice.

“Maybe I should shut yours,” he says casually and you open your mouth as you gasp. What does he meant by that? Did he think— “That wasn’t what I was planning but I guess it worked.” he adds obviously amused by your frustration. He’s making fun of you and if it wouldn’t be raining, you’d rather be walking for an whole two hours than to ride with him.

Thankfully, he parks in front of your apartment building and you’re quickly stepping out of the car. You think you’ll be able to avoid him and snatch elevator so he’d have to wait for it or go by the stairs, but he easily catches to you and you huff in annoyance. “Where are your manners?” he speaks to you, obviously trying to get some reaction from you. And you wouldn’t give him that pleasure, although your sharp tongue just has to interfere.

“Where your politeness is.” you say as you step into the elevator, hitting the ‘3’ button as he slowly walks in.

“Real classy, kitty.” he chimes as you groan.

“Stop calling me that!” you huff in annoyance.

“Then what should I call you? I don’t know your name.” he shrugs his shoulders and you’re ready to tell him to fuck off — but then he’d be just calling you that all the time and that ridiculous nickname or pet name, whatever the fuck that is, irritates the hell out of you.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” you tell him as he stays silent. You look at him making sure he heard you, but of course he did. There’s no way he didn’t hear you.

You quirk your brows at him as he glances at you. Silent and grumpy ‘what?’ leaves his soft and small lips. His eyes somehow covered by his cap but you still manage to see them. “What’s yours?” you ask.

“I’m not telling you.” he shrugs and you gasp as the elevator door opens. You both walk out as you’re gaping at him with opened mouth.

“But I told you mine!” you trail after him, offended he tricked you. “That’s not fair.” you whine as he looks for his keys.

“Bye, kitty.” He gives you last smirk as he opens his door disappearing in his home. Fucking asshole.

The whole week filled with silence in your home gave you at least some kind of peace — thinking he probably gave up making your life miserable. But then you hear the familiar banging against your bedroom wall. The headboard of his bed banging loudly, waking you up. You’re trying to fall asleep while trying to ignore the awful and very loud moans. Fuck. You sit on your bed violently banging on your wall with your fists. It hurts but you don’t care as long as he gets the message. But then you hear his voice pretty clearly.

“Come on, louder.” he encourages the girl as you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

The girl suddenly whines loudly as she’s gasping for air. Soon enough you hear her reaching her climax as you can hear their skin slapping against each other. You don’t want it — but you imagine the way he must look as he tries to reach his climax. Soon enough you don’t feel anything. Did he cum? What the fuck? Why do you even care, Y/N? And then you shut your eyes trying to control your beating heart. He knew you heard him. He knew it all but he still continued. What a prick. It takes twenty freaking minutes for you to fall asleep once again. This time your dreams filled with your neighbor fucking you.

You’re about to take your trash out as you see your neighbor’s door being opened. A girl, no a woman, walks out of his door closing it after her. She isn’t definitely much younger or older than you, probably around the same age. Her hair somehow curled, which used to be probably nice curls but after her wild night it’s all messed up now. You sigh as you’re locking your front door. She stops looking at you before coughing awkwardly.

“Sorry for being loud.” she says before quickly scurrying away not waiting for any of your response. At least she has some guts to apologize. When you’re returning back, after taking your trash out you see him. He walks out of his apartment in fitted jeans with white shirt, jeans hugging his ass perfectly.

He looks your way feeling your eyes on him. “Oh, it’s you.” he mumbles and you’re already fuming.

“Yeah, it’s me.” yoou bark at him annoyingly as he rolls his eyes not even trying to do it discreetly. “What the fuck was yesterday?” you exclaim as he thinks about for a moment.

“A Friday, I think.” he shrugs his shoulders as he shows his keys to his back pockets.

“You know what I mean!” you say angrily as his lips twitches in amusement. Of course, he knows what you mean. But it’s too fun for him to stop irritating you.

“I don’t recall.” he acts like he tries to remember and you groan. “You fucking some chick! You know I could hear you! You did it purposely!”

He chuckles as he shows his fingers in his pockets. He looks hot, but you’d never say it out loud. “Oh, so you were listening? Did you enjoy it?” he asks amused as you’re ready to take off your shoes just to throw it at him.

“Fucking prick! What do you think about me? I don’t care who you’re fucking as long as your mouths are shut!” you tell him angrily as you see him looking at you unbothered — like this is not even about him.

“Look, it’s not my fault you’re not getting laid. Stop ruining my fun.” he says as you gape at him like some fish.

“W—what? What do you know about my sex life? Wait, it’s none of your business!” you ramble as he easily got you even more frustrated.

“Oh, come on,” he huffs, clearly not believing you. “Anyway, as much as I would like to talk to you about sex, I have better things to do. Bye kitty.” he waves at you as you give him your middle finger, making sure he sees it as he only smirks at you disappearing in elevator.

You started to think his purpose on this world is to annoy you all the time. You’re watching your television trying to mute out the noises and laughter coming from his apartment. 11:08pm — it shows on your clock. Your eyes tiredly closes but you can’t sleep due to the noise. Are you the only one who hears that? Why isn’t anyone else complaining? Yeah, maybe it’s because there’s an old couple living on the next side of his apartment and they can barely hear. One time you had to scream at that old lady ‘good morning’ because she couldn’t hear you. You’re already tired of constantly knocking on his door like some bitch who’s constantly complaining. But on the other hand — why you should be a bitch? Because you’re trying to have some peace after your whole day in work? Of course, young people like to party and invite their friends over. Or even blast their music, who doesn’t do that? But not every-fucking-day. You sigh already walking to his door — it’s almost like some ritual. The door awfully familiar to you — even though you’ve the same — but his door mat of cat’s meme as it shows its middle finger is definitely different than from your basic beige one. You tiredly knock but still manage to knock louder in case he’d hear you. Soon enough there’s a blonde hair peeking out from the door. He opens the door wider smiling at you with his eye smile.

“Hello, can I help you?” he asks kindly as you’re making sure you knocked on the right door. You look down at the rug — yup, it’s the right door.

“Mmm—“ “Walt? Are we being too loud?” he asks as you only nod. “Aish, I told them to be quiet but Yoongi said it’s fine.” Yoongi?

“It’s okay, I just—“ you wave at him, feeling like he’ll take care of the noise but he cuts you off. “Come in, you probably want to talk to him not to me.” Talk to who? Your neighbor? Hell no.

“No, that’s not really necessarily, I’m actually going to—“

“Nonsense, come in or they’ll continue in being loud,” he says already pulling you in into your neighbor’s home. Surprisingly enough, his home smells nice. The sweet scents of coconut, wood and something you can’t quite put your finger on fills your nose. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” he tells you before leading you further to your neighbor’s home. His interior is minimalistic, modern and very clean which surprises you. He definitely has some taste in house interior. You can already tell his apartment is bigger than yours and even that small fact annoys you somehow. You don’t even know why. There’s a group of guys sitting in spacious living room as big screen television is on the wall.

“Guys, we’ve a visitor.” he speaks loudly so the rest of the group stops chattering before looking at you. Your eyes are already focused on Yoongi as he sits on his sofa staring at you confusingly. Before none of you can say the word, someone beats you to it.

“Y/N?” you hear curious voice as your eyes follow the sound finding your co-worker sitting on the floor staring at you surprisingly. “What are you doing here?”

“Jeongguk?” you ask as you see him already smiling at you revealing his bunny smile.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Jimin asks dumbfounded and you notice his reddened cheeks while he keeps smiling all the time. He’s tipsy.

“Yeah, we’re co-workers.” Jeongguk answers happily as you feel your neighbor’s eyes on you. “But what are you doing here? I’m hanging out with my friends.”

“I live here.” you inform him as his eyes widen in shock. “Wait! Yoongi is your neighbor?” he asks loudly causing everyone in the group watching the scene in front of him.

Yoongi?

So that’s his name. You smirk at Yoongi with knowing look saying something like ‘ha! I know your name now!’. He glares at you while you feel satisfaction.

“So he’s the neighbor you complained about?”

Damn, Jungguk and his mouth. But you nod nevertheless. “Yeah, the one and only.” you grumble giving Yoongi a fake smile and he shows you his middle finger.

“Guys, I told you we’ve to be quiet. We probably woke you up.” Jimin says pouring at you like he knows you for the longest time — except you’ve met like literally five minutes ago.

“No, you didn’t. Don’t worry, I just thought...” you trail off awkwardly. I just thought Yoongi is doing it on purpose — you wanted to say but you stopped yourself. “Never mind. I’m leaving.” you say as you quickly wave them off not noticing Yoongi standing up.

He walks you to his front door little smirk playing on his lips. “What?” you grumble as he leans against his door frame when you’re out of his home.

“I didn’t know you’re talking about me with your co-workers.” he muses as he cocks his head to side enjoying your annoyed face.

“I’m not talking about you. I’m complaining about you.” you inform him.

“Yeah, you complain while you’re talking.” he shrugs and you annoyingly turn around.

“Whatever, leave me alone.” you grumble again.

“You came to my home. I didn’t even invite you in.” he calls out to you, not loudly though.

“Yeah, like you did couple of weeks ago. We’re even, I guess.” you call out to him back as you’re opening your doors with keys.

“Goodnight, kitty.” he says with little smirk on his lips as he looks incredibly hot and like a douchebag at the same time.

But you smirk at him back, waving at him; “Bye, Yoongi.” His name rolls off your tongue smoothly as you don’t wait for his reaction. Simply closing the door with satisfied grin on your lips.

Yoongi storms into his apartment glaring at his friend as soon as he sees his blonde hair and innocent smile. “Did you have to seriously do that?” he grumbles as he sits back to his seat, reaching for a beer.

“Do what?” Jimin asks cluelessly as Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.

“Invite her in.” he answers grumpily as he feels Jungguk’s eyes on him.

“Why? You don’t like her or what?” This time his other friend asks, Hoseok, as he doesn’t understand Yoongi’s reaction. You seemed nice and polite, why does he looks so freaking annoyed and irritated?

“She’s that fucking annoying neighbor who complains all the time, the one I mentioned you.” he explains as he still remembers your little smirk as you said his name. He doesn’t even know why it pisses him off so much. It’s just a name. But it seems like a constant competition between you two.

“Ah, I remember you mentioning her.” Hoseok hums as he clearly remembers Yoongi’s words ‘she’s so fucking annoying’.

“Hyung, I don’t want to be rude but... you’re the one who always blasts your music and is extremely loud.” Jeongguk comes to your rescue, as he sees his friend already glaring at him with those sharp eyes.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re co-workers.” Yoongi says mockingly causing Jungguk to furrow his brows. Well, he definitely understands why you called his friend a ‘fucking rude prick’. Also Jungguk remembers the way he cursed at his friend without knowing he’s the one you two talked about saying; ‘Wow, he’s so fucking rude. You should call police.’

“We are. But I didn’t have any idea you’re the one she complains about.” he shrugs innocently as Yoongi rolls his eyes. Of course you had to complain to someone. Miss Uptight Prude.

“Your place is nice, but don’t you want to have more flowers in here? It’s kind of dead here.” Your mom comments as you’re preparing plates on your dining table.

“Love, this is her home. Let her be.” Your dad comes to your rescue as you smile at him which he gladly returns.

As you’re waiting for your food to heat, there’s a huge conversation between your parents. A loud conversation. Your mom video calls to your older sister who’s on her vacation in America, causing her to speak very loudly because the connection is bad. You massage your temples as your mom yells ‘We miss you baby!’ to your older sister as she tries to hear what she’s saying. This causes your mom to say it, no more like yell couple of more times. You’re ready to tell her something, when there’s a knock on your front door.

“I’m gonna get door, someone’s knocking.” you inform your parents as they’re completely ignoring you trying to hear your sister’s words. You roll your eyes at them not understanding why don’t they just decline the call since the connection is pretty bad.

Opening your door you reveal one pair of sharp eyes looking at you grumpily as you widen your eyes in shock. What is he doing here? “Yoongi?” you ask as you see him irritably inhaling. You almost want to smirk at him but you stop yourself.

“You’re being fucking loud.” he complains as you lean onto your door frame.

“Oh? So what?” you ask irritating him even more. But that’s what he deserves for constantly being so loud.

His eyebrow irritably twitches as he purses his lips. “Mute it down or I’m calling cops.” he says sternly and you loudly gasp ready to throw a numerous amount of curses at him, when you feel hands on your shoulders slightly pushing you away.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know you’re expecting someone.” Your mom smiles at your evil neighbor.

“I’m not—“ you try to say as your mom waves your hand at you cutting you off with her own voice. Plain rude.

“Hello, I’m Y/N’s mom. It’s so nice to meet you!” she says happily. Yoongi looks for a second at her outstretched hand as he gives you a look. The one where he mischievously grins taking your mom’s hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m Min Yoongi.” he introduces himself and that’s when you realize he said his full name. Min Yoongi. It sounds too nice for belonging to a devil with angel looking face.

“Are you Y/N’s friend?” she keeps getting more curious as she doesn’t see the warning eyes you have set on Yoongi. He clearly sees them as he smirks at you.

“I am.” he nods and you gasp at him ready to call him out on his huge lie. But then of course, your mom interrupts whatever you’ve been planning as she opens your door wider.

“Come in! We’re just about to have a dinner!” she says and Yoongi casually walks in. He walks in like he’s been there hundreds of time which he hasn’t. Expect that one time when he rudely came in to get his devil cat.

“Honey! We’ve a visitor!” Your mom calls to your dad as he puts his phone to his pocket. Thank god, they stopped calling. It’d be even more embarrassing. Wait, since when do you care about what Yoongi thinks? Your parents introduces to Yoongi as he kindly shakes your dad’s hand. He even freaking bows to your parents. You’re quite surprised to see him being so polite, but of course it’s just his fake side of him.

“Do you want to have a dinner with us? Y/N cooked for us.” Your mom says as you’re gripping the spatula in your hand.

“Actually, I—“

But the devil himself cuts you off, as you hear his soft voice. “Of course.” he nods and is already sitting at your dining table.

He doesn’t see your face, since you’re standing with his back to him, but he knows he just annoyed the shit out of you. And you also know he’s having a victorious grin without even looking at him. When you put food on everyone’s plate you’re silently eating as you feel completely awkward as you sit next to Yoongi. He silently eats the food you cooked and it seems like he likes it, since he doesn’t have some sarcastic remarks. Although, he probably wouldn’t have when your parents are here.

“So, how long have you been living here?” Your mom asks as she takes another bite of the food. He mentioned he’s your neighbor as they introduced themselves. Yoongi gulps as he looks at your mom who sits on the other side of you.

“For a year.” he answers and your brows surprisingly shoots your eyebrows. He lives here for a year already?

“How do you like living here? Both of you?” she asks as she looks at the both of you, trying to make a conversation. Yoongi opens his mouth to answer her but you quickly chime in.

“I mean, there’s this annoying neighbor who doesn’t know what silence is. He’s extremely loud with his music and different... stuff.” you answer your mouth pursing your lips at Yoongi as he glares at you.

“That must be so annoying!” Your mom exclaim as she puts her hand over her heart.

“Then there’s this other neighbor who complains all the time knocking on his door every day.” he tells your mom and you glare at him. It’s very immature for the two of you doing this, but you simply don’t care.

“I don’t like people who complain a lot,” Your mom says as a smug grin appears on Yoongi’s lips. You can see him from your peripheral vision but you don’t give him that satisfaction of looking at him. “First of all, this is an apartment building, so it’s clear there would be some noise.” Yoongi nods to her, loud ‘exactly’ leaving his mouth as you roll your eyes.

“Well, first of all, even though this is an apartment building, there should be still some rules.” you speak loudly causing your mom to widen her eyes little bit.

“Of course,” she nods as you sigh continuing eating because you won’t ruin your appetite because of Yoongi. “Well, at least the two of you get along.” she says happily as you and Yoongi exchange your looks.

The rest of the dinner is spent in silence and as everyone finishes eating, your parents leave. They say goodbye to you and Yoongi also, as he doesn’t leave. You’re cleaning your kitchen as you see him standing there watching you.

“What are you still doing here?” you ask raising your brow at him.

“I don’t even know. Bye, kitty.” he waves at you as he leaves. He didn’t even try to help!

“Asshole!” you yell hoping he heard you, continuing in scrubbing the grease off your pan.

What is better way to wake up than waking up with amazing smell of pancakes filling your home. You open your eyes as sunlight blindes you for a moment. Your stomach grumbles at the amazing smell which definitely isn’t coming from your home. You walk to your balcony seeing Yoongi’s balcony door opened as well. The amazing smell is coming from his apartment. You sigh as you walk to your fridge to find it almost empty. Also, there is no ingredients to make pancakes which you’re craving thanks to your neighbor. But there’s an idea creating in your mind, as you’re already brushing your teeth and trying to make yourself look somehow more presentable. You’re already knocking on his door, the absurd door mat with middle finger making you feel unwelcomed but it doesn’t discourage you as you hear footsteps. There’s Yoongi standing with his hair disheveled, the silver color making him look even more interesting. He’s still wearing his pajamas, at least you suppose as white T-shirt and dark blue pajamas shorts are covering his body.

“What?” he asks grumpily as he sees your face.

You don’t take it personally as you happily smile, ready for your revenge. “Good morning, neighbor.” you greet him pushing him out of way already walking inside.

“Hey!” he yells after you quickly closing his front door before trailing after you. It doesn’t take a long to find a kitchen, amazing and delicious smell leads you. His kitchen is similar to yours, but still bigger and fancier. There’s a plate of pancakes with strawberries, banana and Nutella on the side. Your mouth is already watering as you’re ready to take a pancake. But Yoongi slaps your hand before it can touch delicious pancake.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks lowly as you look at the pancake. So close.

“I want to eat, obviously.” You answer casually like it’s a obvious thing.

“Nobody invited you.” he informs you as he crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps buldge out. He isn’t that broad but he still has some muscles on his body and it is proved now.

“I didn’t invite you yesterday either so...” you trail off, wanting to get this argument over with and already eat. Delicious smell is enough to make your stomach grumble.

“I see what you’re doing, Y/N.” he says and the fact that he uses your real name instead that awful nickname he gave you, means he’s too serious.

“What am I doing?” you ask acting clueless.

“You’re trying to get back at me because of yesterday. And I didn’t exactly come uninvited, your mom invited me.” he says as he takes the plate with pancakes away from you.

“But my mom has no right to invite some stranger to my home!” you exclaim as he suddenly smirks at you.

“Oh, are we strangers? I thought we’re already pass that stage, kitty,” he visibly smiles in triumph when he sees your red face. “I think you should leave then, stranger.” he says standing there with plate full of delicious looking pancakes as your stomach grumbles once again.

“Come on! I’m hungry.” you pout reaching for pancakes but he only dodges from your hands.

“Not my business.” he mutters as he tries not to look at your little pout.

“Come on, let’s eat. You’re skinny, you’ve to eat.” you say brightly as he looks at you before scoffing.

“I am skinny? What about you?” he chuckles at you while shaking his head. You look down at your stomach which has some fat in it but it’s covered by your large T-shirt.

“I’m definitely not skinny. I should start working out and eat healthy, but I’m too lazy for that. But it’s okay, I’m comfortable with my body.” you shrug as he just stares at you. Does she really think she needs to work out? He asks himself as he stares at your curves which are placed in the right places. He feels like your large T-shirt is covering your true body and he somehow whishes he would see it better.

“Can we eat now?” you ask as your stomach growls loudly causing you to pat it. He doesn’t say anything as he simply turns around sitting at his dining table. That’s your cue to do the same as you eat in silence. You moan at your first bite, as the flavor of strawberries and Nutella reaches your tongue. Yoongi ignores you the whole time, eating in silent as he doesn’t glance at you — not even once. Holly decides to make an appearance when she jumps into Yoongi’s lap as he starts to pet her. He smiles at the pet as he scrubs her behind her ear causing her to purr.

“What?” he asks annoyed as he feels your eyes on him. You just shrug.

“It’s just weird.” you mumble as he sighs.

“What’s weird?” he asks anyway.

“You being nice.” you answer casually shrugging your shoulders as he gapes feeling slightly offended.

“I’m nice!” he argues and you laugh.

“You’re definitely not!” you still laugh while arguing with him. He bites into his lips to prevent him to smile at the way you laugh at him with your chubby cheeks full of food.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he raises his brow and you calm down from your laughter.

“Hmm, I am.” you nod still grinning at him. You’re done with eating putting your plate in the sink as you’re ready to wash it.

“What are you doing?” he asks as he puts his empty plate onto yours.

“I’m cleaning after myself.” you answer as he sighs.

“I’ll wash it,” he mumbles as you gasp. “I told you I can be nice.”

Holly jumps onto his counter and you eye the animal as she stares at you. “I think she doesn’t like me.” you mumble as Yoongi continue to wash dishes.

“Who? Holly? Nah, she’s a sweetheart.” he argues.

“Come on, go down. This is very unhygienic,” you tell the cat as you’re patting her butt to jump off. But instead she growls at you making you step back. “See? She doesn’t like me!” you exclaim looking at the devil cat who stares at you.

“Because you’re telling her what to do.” he tells you easily as you furrow your brows at her.

“Anyways, thank you for breakfast, I guess.” you say as you’re turning around.

“Are you leaving?” he asks almost too quickly and you turn back around to look at him with smirk.

“Aw, do you want me to stay?” you coo as he glares at you.

“Of course not, get out and don’t come back.” he says almost too rudely and you purse your lips.

“Asshole.” you say as you send him a middle finger before leaving. Fucking asshole.

To say things got better with Yoongi would be a complete lie. You feel like he started to ignore you even more, this time he wouldn’t even greet you — but you can’t say anything since you’ve never greet him as well. It was just a couple of days ago, when you heard the same banging of his headboard into the thin wall. You somehow felt even more angry than ever. Maybe it was a small amount of jealousy you felt about the woman he fucked. Yoongi sexually attracts you and there’s nothing you can do about it. Maybe his cold attitude should repel you, but it doesn’t. Instead you somehow want his attention. His smirk engraved in your mind as you’re wondering how would it feel to let him fuck you. The sounds you always here is enough to tell you he isn’t about that vanilla sex. He’s like a beast, but you never hear him. You only hear women’s moans and seeing a different woman every time is enough to tell you, that he isn’t in any relationship. Even that should repel you. You’ve always loved men who are caring, loving and are couple type. But then there’s a Yoongi — complete opposite who attracts you so much that you’ve thought about him when you had your fingers burried inside of you. You pretended it’s him inside of you, knowing he’s way bigger than your three slim fingers. But even your fingers inside of you and shower head on your clit weren’t enough for you to please you — something that never happened.

Couple of days passed without hearing any woman’s moans or banging on your wall. However his loud music is completely another story. You knock on his wall with your fist for like tenth time but he ignores you. So you decide to knock on his front door but he still ignores you. You give up feeling how much tired you’re but you can’t sleep because of the loudness he’s causing. That’s when you get angry at him and dial police number. Maybe it’s too immature but you don’t care. You need to sleep and you’re done with his rude attitude. He even started to ignore you completely and that somehow pisses you off even more than his constant disturbing. Soon enough you hear police men coming to Yoongi’s door knocking. He opens the door after a while and you wish you could see his face. But instead you only stand behind the door listening to their conversation silently. “We’re sorry to disturb you, sir but there’s been a complaint about a noise.” One of the police men says.

“Really?” Yoongi asks but his voice somehow amused already knowing who complained. You bite into your lips knowing he knows exactly who called police.

“We have to ask you to keep it down, there are neighbors who wants to sleep at this hour.” they say politely as Yoongi answers with ‘sure’ before they leave. He turns the music completely off and you smile in victory.

You’re happily walking to your bedroom when there is angry knocking on your front door. You already know who is behind it. You sigh as you open your door with annoyed expression.

“Did you just fucking called a police on me?” he barks at you too loudly causing your face scrunch at his loud voice.

“I told you I would if you don’t keep it down.” you answer him as he fumes like some angry bull. Shit, he’s angry. You see him clenching his jaw as he barges inside your home.

“Hey!” you yell at him as you close your door with big thump. “You can’t just—“ You’re cut off when he barges onto you, your back hitting your front door as he kisses you harshly. He holds you face in place as he hungrily kisses your mouth, your teeth clutching against his but you don’t care. He tugs his arms under your thighs, easily pulling you up. You naturally wrap your legs around his waist as you hold onto his shoulders. He continues kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. You’re already feeling your underwear sticking to your heat, getting too much turned on by just simple act. He pulls away to catch his breath but he’s already sucking your neck. “What—“ He shuts you up with his lips once again.

“Shut the fuck up.” he says between the kisses. In other cases you’d tell him to fuck off or something but you feel yourself clench around nothing instead. It’s almost too embarrassing to admit how much does this turn you on. He grinds his crotch against yours — your crotch meeting the material of his sweatpants.

“Fuck.” you moan out as you feel his hardened cock against your thin material of your panties.

“Do you want more?” he asks breathlessly as he keeps grinding into you. As much as it feels good, it’s not enough to quench your thirst.

“Yes!” you moan as he sucks on your collarbones. Thank god you’re wearing your thin nightdress and not your pajamas with unicorn on it.

“Mm, I don’t think you deserve it.” he hums against your skin as he pulls the material of your nightdress, revealing your breast. He dips his head down licking your already hardened nipple.

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” you ask breathlessly.

“You’re smart.” he chuckles as he grazes your nipple with his teeth. You bang your head against your front door causing it to hurt but you don’t care. “I won’t beg, Yoongi.” you chuckle at the thought of you begging. Who does he think he is? He grins into you harshly causing you to whimper.

“Beg, or I’m leaving.” he says too sternly and serious and you know he’s not fucking around.

“I hate you.” you spit as he smirks at you.

“Likewise.” he mumbles but kisses you.

“What do you want, kitty?” he asks as he sucks on your collarbones.

“Seriously? This is the biggest turn off.” you mumble as he laughs, an actual laugh and you’re happy you’re looking at him right at that moment. A gummy smile appears on his smile and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so beautiful and mesmerizing.

“But you’re wet, aren’t you?” he asks with raised brow and you shut up.

“Please, just...” you try to speak as he grins gripping your naked ass harshly as your nightdress ride up when he picked you up. You feel his big hands on your ass as he grabs it harshly, causing you to bite your lip. You can’t wait longer. You’ve never wanted someone that bad. “Please, just fuck me,” you beg as he smirks. “I need you.” you continue not even realizing how pathetic you sound.

“You’re so needy.” je says almost mockingly detaching you from the front door, still holding you in his hands. His arms holds you securely as he kisses you roughly again. He already walks into your bedroom, putting you down as you stare at him.

“How did you know where my bedroom is?” you ask him as he strips down his T-shirt and that’s the first time you see him topless. And boy, is that a good sight. His skin is pale as it shines and looks so smoothly. His whole body looks healthy as deep v-line is disappearing into his sweatpants. You clench just from the sight of him.

“We share the same wall, you forgot?” he asks as he hovers over you.

“How could I forgot? I heard you having a sex countless time.” you mutter, the pang of jealously hitting your stomach and chest. Yoongi shuts you up with his lips.

“I’m about to fuck you, aren’t I?” he says with little smile making it sound like he’s assuring you.

“Can I take this off?” he asks softly as his fingers glaze around the hem of your nightdress.

“Yes.” you answer maybe too quickly which he smirks to but doesn’t say anything.

You sit up as he’s already taking it off revealing your naked breasts. You see him lick his lips coating it with his saliva already pushing you to lay down. He’s taking your other nipple into his hands while he grabs the other one with his hand. You’re squirming in his hold as you’re enjoying the feel of his mouth and hands on you. He slowly trails down to your stomach pecking it little before he scoots down — his head between your legs. He parts them so he can fit more comfortably as he takes a inhale of your heat. You blush at him as he smirks up at you. You’re still wearing your panties and he kisses your clit through your fabric. He’s teasing you and you know it.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” he asks as he looks at you with those sharp eyes. The same one who constantly glares at you giving you a nasty look, but this time they’re filled with lust causing them to appear more dark and shiny than usual.

“I... You can.” you say unsurely as he furrows his brows slightly.

“Has anyone ever eaten you out?” His question causing you to bite the inside of your cheek. He asks it casually and straightforward taking you off guard for a moment.

“No.” you answer as you see his eyes widen.

“How’s that possible?” he asks confusingly as you awkwardly cough.

“I don’t know... they never did.” you answer awkwardly thinking about your two and only exes. They were all about vanilla sex, something you like but you still missed some action. Some dominance, someone who would put you in your place and seeing Yoongi — he’s the perfect one for doing exactly that.

“They’re missing out,” he mumbles as he’s pulling your underwear down, sliding it against your smooth legs. Thank god you shaved yourself this morning. He puffs some air onto your revealed heat as he watches you squirm. “So pink and beautiful.” you blush at his shameless words but still clench at his dirty words.

He sees it but doesn’t comment on it as he dips his head kissing your clit. Your fingers naturally grab his silver hair grinding onto his face. He starts sucking on your clit fingers grazing over your hole. He’s only teasing you with his fingers and you’re ready to scold him. Luckily, he trails his lips down to your hole thrusting with his tongue slowly and you moan out loud. You get why those women are so vocal. He’s unbelievable. Meanwhile his fingers move to your clit pinching it as you arch your back thrusting into his face. He doesn’t say anything nor he can, when his whole face is stuffed between your legs. He doesn’t stop, only picking his pace causing you to whimper. You bite your lips trying not to scream at how good he fucks you. Your pussy tightens around his tongue as you feel yourself cumming. You grip his hair harder causing him to moan into your pussy while he helps you to ride out of your orgasm. As you feel your cum dripping down your hole you try to control your breath. But Yoongi isn’t done when he’s licking your cum of you and you whimper at the overstimulation.

“Yoongi..” you beg causing him to pull away with winning smirk. His whole chin and lips are glistening by your cum and the sight is unbelievably pleasing and arousing. Even though you just came, you still feel yourself begging for more. Yoongi sits on his knees as he grabs your nightdress wiping his chin with it. You notice the outline of his cock in his sweatpants and you’re already sitting up.

“Lay down,” you say feeling yourself still wet from your cum and new arousal. You gently push him to lay down and he peacefully obeys. “Can I take these off?” you ask, your fingers already hooked around the hem of his sweatpants and boxer briefs.

“Why didn’t you already?” Is all he says and that’s his approval as you’re already taking it off. His cock springs free and your mouth water at the sight of him. It stands straight from the arousal in desperate need for attention. There is a pre-cum glistening at his tip and you’re licking your lips at delightful sight. He’s thick causing you to feel somehow stressed if he’ll fit in.

“You don’t have to—“ he says after a moment of seeing you looking at his cock. He knows he’s been gifted in this particular area so he doesn’t feel self conscious about it, but he’s starting to think you regret it. He’s been asshole to you this whole time, he knows, but he doesn’t want you to feel pressured or something. You cut him off by gripping him in your hand giving him a teasing squeeze. He groans shutting off his mouth not wanting to be vocal. We’ll see about that. You think as you dip your head spitting on his tip before taking him into his mouth. You suck on him, the rest of his cock which isn’t in your mouth is held by your hand. But soon enough you grip his thighs with both of your hands as you try to take as much of him as possible. Your eyes are starting to water as you feel him getting deeper so you swallow. He moans quietly gripping your hair tightly in his fist as you’re lowering yourself on him. Your nose is touching his small pubic hair causing you to not believe you’ve taken all of him. He unexpectedly thrusts into your mouth as you don’t move causing you to gag and pull away. Your saliva is connected to his cock as you cough.

“Shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he says and that’s your cue taking him into your mouth again. This time you don’t pull away as you feel him hitting your throat. You tighten your throat around him by swallowing and he groans tightening his grip on your hair as you whimper. You squeeze your legs together trying to relieve at least some kind of tension between your legs. “Fucking hell, stop.” He growls as you look at him through your lashes, his cock still in your mouth. “Fuck, fuck!” he groans quickly slightly pushing you away from him as you sit down looking at him confusingly.

“Did I do something wrong?” you ask cluelessly as you’re trying to think about some mistakes. You gave couple of blowjobs to your exes and they never complained.

“I nearly came.” he breathes out as he tries to control his breathing. You open your mouth as he looks at you through his hooded eyes.

“Y-you did?” you ask, surprised by his statement. Were you that good? You’ve never gave a blowjob to someone with big cock like his and it makes you proud somehow — in weird way. But his words makes you happy and proud nevertheless.

“I wanted that bratty mouth of yours wrapped around me ever since you knocked on my fucking door.” he admits shamelessly as you widen your eyes. Even though you stood there in those ridiculous slippers and fluffy robe, your angry eyes with fire in them was all he could think about. But his words are causing you to clench yourself around nothing and you whimper at that feeling.

“Then what are you waiting for? Fuck me.” you tell him as he growls at you, switching your position. You’re looking straight into his eyes as he hooks his arms around your waist, roughly and in one swift move he turns you onto your stomach. Your face hits your soft pillows as you look sideways so you can breath.

“On your hands and knees. Ass up,” he commands you with dominant voice and you listen to him already arching your ass at him. He pulls your ass cheeks apart seeing your tight hole as he leans down and flicks his tongue around it. You moan not even caring that he’s having his tongue on your literal ass hole. “You’re dripping.” he comments as he drawls his finger across your heat, collecting some of your mixed cum and arousal. You look over your shoulder seeing him putting his finger into his mouth sucking on it.

“You’re nasty.” you comment loudly as he grins.

“And you love it.” He quirks his brow and you bite your lip.

“I do.” you admit shamelessly.

You turn your head laying it on your pillow as you wiggle your ass in anticipation. You hear Yoongi chuckle before he delivers a slap on your ass. You gasp at the painfully pleasing feeling as you feel him caressing it right after. He takes his cock into his hands slowly guiding it to your hole. He teases you with running his tip along your slit. “Yoongi,” you whine as he finds it amusing to see you so whiny. He slowly guides his tip in as you widen your eyes. “Stop!” you yell causing him to stop. You turn around seeing him holding his cock and god, the sight is even more pleasing. “Condom?” you ask as he annoyingly looks at you.

“I’m clean,” he says and you quirk your eyebrows at him. “I always fuck with condoms.” he informs you as the look of disbelief crosses your face.

“What about those women?” you ask even though you don’t want to even think about them. You don’t want to ruin this moment.

“I didn’t fuck them raw.”

“Why?” you ask curiously and he wants to roll his eyes at your curiosity as his cock is starting to hurt. He just wants to fuck your brains out.

“I don’t know, I never wanted to.” he shrugs as he waits for you to tell him to continue.

But it just has to be you to annoy him some more. “Why do you want to fuck with me raw?” you ask and he groans.

“I just do, okay? I want to feel all of you and I don’t want that fucking condom between us. But if you’re not on pills I can—“

“No, I’m on birth control.” you cut him off as he feels relief. “And I’m clean.” you add as he looks in your eyes for question.

“Let me fuck you raw.” he says instead as you bite your lip.

“Yeah, okay.” you add as he already guides his cock to your hole. He slowly enters you as he penetrates you. The burning sensation causing you to shut your eyes as you’re trying to relax.

“You’re taking me so well, fuck.” he growls as he slowly keeps entering you. He fills you to your brim as you gasp at the feeling of fullness. You’re so full. He penetrates your walls amazingly as you clench around him. He squeezes your ass letting you some time to adjust before you start to wiggle your ass at him. He chuckles slapping it before thrusting in and out. He doesn’t start slow, already thrusting in and out in animalistic pace. You grip your sheets tightly as his hands grips your waist to hold you in place.

“Fuck, Yoongi.” you moan out as he finds your g-spot hitting in repeatedly.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. How long has it been since you’ve fucked with someone?” he asks through his gritted teeth but something is telling you he doesn’t really want to know the answer. So you shut your mouth as he keeps thrusting while growls are leaving his mouth. You’ve never heard him being vocal while having sex but fuck, the sounds are causing you to clench uncontrollably as you’re cumming around him.

“Fuck, are you already cumming?” he mocks you as he slows down letting you ride off your orgasm. He pulls out as he slaps his cock against your slit as you moan. He’s entering once again and you gasp, too sensitive.

“Yoongi, I can’t...” you whimper as he starts hitting all the right places once again.

“You can and you will. You will take everything, you bitch. That’s what you get for calling police on me.” he snaps at you as his thighs are hitting your ass while his balls are hitting your clit. You feel the amazing arousal already, too close to cum again. His words should’ve made you angry that he’s talking to you with disrespect, although, it turns you on as he slaps you once again. He pats your ass in caring manner before gripping your waist once again. You thrust your ass against him meeting him in the middle causing him to moan. His moves are getting sloppy and you know he’s getting close as he starts to loose his rhythm.

“Come on Yoongi. Cum.” you purr breathlessly loosing your control, cumming for the second time.

“Ow, holy shit, fuck, can I— I’m cumming!” he growls loud as he’s spilling his load into you, coating your walls with his cum. You moan at the feeling of being full. He fucks into you his cum before pulls out slapping you ass with his cock. You lay down, your knees too weak to hold anymore. You turn onto your back seeing Yoongi sitting on his knees. His eyes follows the way his cum is spilling out of you and he licks his lips at the sight. Amazing.

“You’re so fucked out.” he chuckles as he looks at you while you’re grinning at him like some lunatic. You see some movement in the corner causing you to sit up in shock.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim as you see his cat staring at the both of you.

“I must’ve left my balcony door opened.” Yoongi mutters as he sees his cat jumping onto your bed.

“Put her down!” you say as the cat growls at you. Is she jealous?

“Come on, go down.” he says as he pats her butt as she jumps off your bed.

“You should really close your balcony door.” you mutter as Yoongi lays down beside you pulling you onto him. It surprises you but you gladly accept it putting your head on his chest. You watch his pale hands laid in his stomach, veins visible on his arms and you bite your lips.

“Mmm, I’ll consider it after this.” he hums as you jokingly slap his chest.

“I’m serious.” you laugh as he chuckles.

“So am I, kitty.” And this time you slap him harder on his chest.

7K notes · View notes

petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

The Truth is not far from Fiction

@nalu-week bonus day AU prompt. Ghost story, modern setting, 7k words

Based on a real life experience.

One day late in the afternoon, Layla Heartfilia hears talking and pops her head into her toddlers bedroom. She sees the four-year-old playing with a doll in the middle of the floor, just babbling away and smiles. “Who are you talking to Lucy?”

The child’s brown eyes beam at her mother. “Mishi wanna pway wich doll.”

Assuming it was just an imaginary friend, the woman plays along. “I see. And are you being a good girl and sharing your toys?”

“Uh-huh, mommy.”

“That’s a good girl. I’ll be back shortly to get you for dinner, okay, you just keep playing nicely with your friend.”

“Otay,” Lucy giggles and looks at the girl sitting across from her, “Mishi you hungy too? Oh.” She then looks back at her mother, “Mishi say no can eat.”

“Why is that dear?”

“Mishis dead.”

><><><><><><><><><

From all outward appearances, Lucy Heartfilia was just your typical teenage girl. She had her tight-knit group of friends, a girly-girl when she wanted to be, but deep down was just as comfortable hanging with the guys. Fangirling over the latest manga heartthrob or relaxing with a good book were her two favorite things to do, well that and spending time with her best friend slash boyfriend Natsu Dragneel.

Natsu was born and raised in Hawaii whereas Lucy was a transplant to the islands. After her mother’s death, her father moved them to Hilo when the opportunity to invest in some new property developments came about. It was a small town compared to the big city they’d left behind, but it was a beautiful place and Lucy fell in love with it quickly. She knew her mother would have loved it because if there was one thing Layla Heartfilia had instilled in her daughter, it was a love of the stars.

Every cloudless night on the island provided a perfect opportunity for stargazing thanks to the role of the observatories on Mauna Kea; the islands largest volcanic mountain. Nothing brighter than an orange amber glow was allowed by law, cutting down on the amount of light pollution in Hawaii. Lucy loved it and took any opportunity to simply kick back under the stars picking out her favorite constellations.

It was now the summer of their graduation from high school and the friends wanted to do something together to kick it off. A few options were thrown around, but when the idea of relaxing under the stars came to mind, Lucy suggested a camping trip. Campfires and smores, maybe some hiking, or even better, snuggling after dark. The group was sold.

“Gajeel’s dad said his contact will let us stay at K.O.E.C in volcano for the weekend since it’s not being used during the summer.” Levy McGarden was the first friend Lucy made after moving to the island and Gajeel Redfox was the girl’s boyfriend.

Lucy tips her head in confusion. “Where’s that? I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.”

“Oh,” Levy chuckles, “sometimes I forget you weren’t born here. In elementary school, all the kids are taken camping there. It’s like an educational retreat cause it’s right next to the national park.”

“Ah, gotcha. So, it’s a camping ground?”

“Mmm, sort of. There’s a building and a big grass area and a bonfire pit. I don’t know the details if they’ll let us use the main building, but it’ll probably be fine if we just set up tents. Gajeel said the guy will give us a key to the gate when we arrive so we can go in and out.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Despite her father’s wishes for Lucy to go to a bigger college in the states, she decides to stay local for now, though that still meant relocating to a different island. It was true her decision was partially based on where her boyfriend was also attending school, but Chaminade University had a good reputation as well as the programs she was interested in. Natsu had graduated the year prior and received a football scholarship to attend the University of Manoa. He’d be home for the summer in just a couple of days and she was excited to spend as much time with him as possible.

Starting fresh in a new place during middle school after leaving all of her friends behind in California can be tough on any young person, so it was really thanks to Levy and Natsu for making her feel so welcomed in Hawaii. On the first day of class Levy had befriended her and introduced Lucy into the group of kids that would stick together all the way from Waiakea Intermediate through Waiakea High. They’re like a second family for the girl who didn’t have any siblings and a father who was too busy to pay much attention.

But that was part of the beauty behind her and Natsu’s relationship. It wasn’t something that happened overnight, rather blossoming over several years from a friendship until one day their friend Gray Fullbuster pointed out they were already a pseudo couple so they might as well just make it official. Whenever Lucy thinks about that moment, it always makes her smile, because Natsu had simply chuckled, asked if she wanted to be his girl, she said yes, and they went on with the conversation as if nothing had changed.

Bright and early on a Friday morning, the group meets up at the local McDonald’s parking lot before the caravan heads out as a group to the Volcano area. Lucy rides with Natsu in his pickup truck, while everyone else were in other vehicles. There were eight of them total on their way for a fun filled weekend out in the countryside. It was the first time Lucy would be spending an extended amount of time in the area. Prior to this trip she’s only visited the park to do the typical tourist things like seeing the Jagger Museum or hiking the sulfur banks.

As they make their way to the area, no matter if the vehicle slows or accelerates, the road ahead blends as Lucy stares out the window. Greens, browns, mixed with multiple colors when they pass buildings. Her mind drifts with it, strangely lulled by an energy she cannot place, nor is even aware of its pull on her. The radio playing becomes a background noise with only the bass beats standing out… the drums especially calling to her and lulling her into a spell.

“You okay, Luce?” Natsu questions her as she stares out the passenger window. The normally chatting girl was surprisingly quiet through the drive.

Lucy breaks out of her trance and looks over at her boyfriend. “Yeah, sorry I was just spacing out.” She smiles to allay his concerns. “I was so excited for this trip that I didn’t get much sleep.”

He reaches over and squeezes her hand with a smile. “How about I set up the tent first thing so you can take a nap?”

“I think I’ll be okay once we start doing stuff.”

“Whatever you say,” he winks.

She really wanted to enjoy this trip but the closer they got to the area the more a churning knot tightened in her stomach. It was a dubious feeling to place, not sick as if she were coming down with a cold, and she didn’t get motion sickness like her boyfriend, it was more like a foreboding feeling. Though a strange time to kick in, she had been a little stressed out about going off to college in the fall, so perhaps it was just a case of nerves.

That must be it, Lucy chalks up the weird feelings and rationalizes them as nothing more than a case of the jitters. Going away from home to a new place was a scary proposition, but she reminds herself she won’t be totally alone. Natsu will be on the island and so will Cana Alberona another close friend. And hey, thanks to the internet, those like Levy will be a simple click away too. She takes a deep breath and releases the churning emotions. It was time to focus on this camping trip and make it memorable.

When the caravan of vehicles pulls into the parking area, everyone waits with their vehicles while Gajeel settles up with the caretaker. Once that was complete, the group starts the task of setting up their gear. They break up the work, with the men focusing on the bigger jobs, erecting the tents, tables, and carrying the heavier items. The girls follow up with the sleeping bags, getting the food and other supplies squared away.

It was a nice place, just like Levy had described to Lucy. To the left of the parking lot was a large main building that housed expansive rooms used as classrooms. Downstairs were restrooms and showers, along with maintenance rooms. The caretaker had turned on the hot water and electricity for them to use on the bottom level, but the upstairs rooms were locked for security purposes. There was also security lighting around the building and on the street, but from what Lucy could gauge, once the sun goes down, the area would be quite dark. Good thing they brought a bunch of lanterns and flashlights.

In front of the building and parking lot, it opened up into a sprawling grassy area surrounded by trees. Beyond the trees were homes and subdivisions. At the very edge of the lawn, Lucy could see the bonfire area her friend had mentioned tucked in a corner. According to the caretaker, it was no longer used for full bonfires due to the threat of starting a forest fire, but they were allowed to make a small, normal sized campfire for doing things like roasting marshmallows or for warmth. The pit was also ringed with fallen Ohia tree logs to sit on.

The place was serene alright… but why was that nagging feeling eating away at her? As she stared towards the bon fire area, every fiber of her being was screaming at her to stay away from it. She didn’t like the vibes this place was giving off, which made absolutely no sense to her. It looked completely safe and quiet, they brought children here to camp for Pete’s sakes! Surely, the county wouldn’t allow visitors if this place wasn’t safe.

A shiver rushes along Lucy’s frame despite the lack of a breeze. Maybe she was just psyching herself out, so she turns away from the pit and focuses on something that did make her feel safe. Natsu had just finished setting up their tent. It was time for her to get their bedding down so they could settle in. Perfect, she could do that.

“So, how do you like it?” Natsu asks her as soon as she walks over to him. “Nice, right?”

“It’s a really scenic place,” Lucy agrees. She didn’t want to concern or spook him with her true thoughts of the place. “Is the tent ready?”

“Yup,” he grins, “pretty sure it won’t cave in.”

She chuckles, “I’ll get our sleeping bags and stuff set up.”

Natsu pulls her close and wraps his arms around her waist. “Just make sure I’ve got easy access to ya,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “After six months apart, I need to make up for lost time.”

That brings a flush to her cheeks and a giggle from the woman. “I think I can figure something out.”

He places a soft, lingering kiss on Lucy’s lips. “Remind me again how I managed to make you my girl?”

Lucy grins coyly, “by being an adorable dork.”

“Dork? Says the weirdo,” he chuckles and kisses her again. “Okay, you get cracking on this and I’ll be back in a bit after we set up the campfire for tonight.”

She just nods and watches him walk away for a moment, before turning her attention to the tent. Natsu had even added an additional tarp over the top in case it rained, how thoughtful and smart considering the weather here could turn without warning. Everyone had set up their tents, five in total, at distances from each other. Lucy chuckles in her head, knowing they weren’t the only ones with a little hanky-panky on the agenda.

Instead of using the sleeping bags as they were designed for, she unzips the two sets completely open, using one as the bottom and one as the blanket, finishing off their makeshift bed with the pillows. She then takes the bags that holds their clothing and toiletries and places it in the corner of the tent. Lastly, she double checks that their lantern was working properly and stores it near the entrance, so it was easy to turn on when needed.

With their accommodations ready, she could relax a little while she waited for Natsu to return. Since she didn’t know how long it would take the men to finish, Lucy decides to lay down and close her eyes. He’d suggested she take a short nap, and well, it seemed like a good idea now.

The moment she closes her eyes, the sunlight fades away behind her eyelids as her body slowly gives in. ‘This sleeping bag… is really comfortable…’ She felt peaceful, a sense of stilling calm like in the eye of a hurricane. The blue skies brought warmth streaming through the thin nylon fabric of the tent, pacifying the nervous pin pricks licking along her frame. Is that music playing somewhere? Lucy wonders as the edge of oblivion comes calling... Does someone have their bass cranked up?

‘Did I sleep the afternoon away?’ Lucy looks around as the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge and the sickening feeling pitted in her stomach tightens. Something’s wrong, her mind screams. Where was the tent?! Why was she in the forest?! Where did everyone go? She was taking a nap and suddenly she was in the middle of the dark Ohia forest.

It was deathly silent save for the drumbeats and chanting getting louder— so loud that she felt it in her bones. No other signs of life, of crickets or coqui frogs, nor distant sounds of the homes she knew were laid out around the campsite. Only the drowning of drumbeats and the word kapu (sacred) repeated over and over. She covers her ears in a useless attempt to shield them from the noise, but it was as if they were coming from inside her head.

‘Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Her voice cracked and trembling, desperate to get away from the torment. Fight or flight takes hold and she starts to back away, but her legs feel like rubber, her feet like dead weight. She looks down as a silent scream bubbles up in her throat. Why is her feet sinking into the mud! The ground had been solid a second ago!

She opens her mouth to cry out for Natsu, anybody, but no sound leaves her. Panic sets in, sending her mind into a tailspin, and energy surges through her body. She claws at her throat in desperation, why wasn’t her voice coming out! Her mind is begging for someone to please hear her screams. Natsu! Where was Natsu?!

Something grabs her from behind and her arms begin flailing out desperate to fight back.

“Lucy, wake up!”

“Natsu!” The blonde screams, kicking and punching as she sits straight up on the bedding. Still in a panicked fight for her life, she scrambles away until her back hits the wall of the tent. Her brain is struggling to take back control from the dreamworld, but the sounds were all she could hear roaring in her eardrums.

The hold around her center felt as if something very strong and powerful was squeezing the life out of her. All she could hear in her head were her own screams and that incessant drumbeat! Make it stop! Make it stop! The tears are pouring down, clouding her vision and marring the scene in front of her. Get me out of here!

“Lucy, Lucy!” Natsu grabs hold of her wrists to keep her from hitting him. “It’s a dream, Lucy, you’re okay now.” His own panic was rising faster than a flood. Why wasn’t she responding to him? Her eyes are open, but she was staring past him as if he didn’t exist just screaming for help.

“Lucy?” He feels what he can only equate to as sticking your hand in an electrical socket. His hands start to tingle and the air around them heats up. “W-What the hell is going on?!” Natsu squeaks out as a true fear takes hold. He could understand daymares, but this… this was abnormal!

She thrashes against his hold for a few more seconds, shaking her head as tears pour in torrents down her cheeks. But despite the eerie shocks Lucy was giving him, he holds on tight until the opportunity presents itself to pull her into a fierce bear hug. Natsu had no idea what had set this off, so he fights off his own panic and does what he can, cooing and speaking softly to calm her. He couldn’t tell if his voice even had any weight behind it, but it was all he could muster.

“Shhh, babe I got ya now. Whatever it was, you’re safe.”

Natsu cradles her head, keeping it locked against his chest. There are footsteps around the tent along with a few ‘are you guys okay’ being asked. He responds that it was just a bad dream and not to worry. Lucy must have been much more tired than they’d realized for her to fall asleep so deeply and enter the dream stage in less than 30 minutes. He and Gray had only completed a third of the firepit when Levy had come to get him. The woman had heard distressing sounds coming from his girlfriend and they’d been enough to concern her.

Though Lucys mind was coming out of the dream world, and reality was taking hold again, a heavier panic sets in. How was she supposed to explain this to him? There was something about her life that she’d kept secret from everyone for fear of being looked at as a freak, and most of the time it wasn’t a problem to keep it hidden. Lucy fights to gain back control and to stop shaking. ‘It was just a dream Lucy,’ she tries to psyche up the lie in her head. ‘Nothing paranormal about a dream. It’s the stress manifesting itself.’ She didn’t want to worry anyone.

She takes several long, slow, deep breaths until the panic attack starts to wane. “Thank you, Natsu I-I’m fine now. I’m so sorry. I think all the anxiety of college is just getting to me.”

“No need to apologize Lucy, leaving home is scary. But you know I’ll be there for you right?”

“Yeah,” she cracks a smile. “I know you will be.”

“That was a pretty crazy dream though. Do you remember what it was about?”

Kapu… “No,” she shakes her head as if accentuating the word, but in reality, wishing the sounds echoing in her head would disappear.

“Okay.” His gut tells him not to push the topic until she was ready. Natsu kisses her forehead, “well if you do and you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears.” He smiles at her, “hey, why don’t you go wash your face, catch your breath, and maybe hang out with the girls to distract yourself while I finish up what I was doing?”

Lucy nods, “That’s a good idea.”

Of course, the moment she sat down with her concerned friends they bombarded her with questions about the daymare. Cana the ever-budding ‘spiritualist’ of the group pressing for information so she could discern the meanings behind what Lucy had seen. But she feigned not remembering anything once she’d been awoken by Natsu. She didn’t want to remember, rather forget it had ever happened. So, she falls back to the same excuse she’d used for him. Why not? At least if it were a consistent lie it would be easier to keep up.

“Are you sure Lu?” Levy reaches over and places a hand on her friends knee, “cause the way you were screaming… I swear even I was getting chills.”

“You literally sounded like you were being murdered.”

“Blunt enough, Cana?” Levy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t need to be freaked out any more than necessary.”

“I really appreciate you’re guys concern, but I swear I’m fine now. I don’t remember what it was about and if it’s as bad as you’re saying, I’m glad I don’t remember.”

Levy fixes Lucy with a stare. “At least promise me if it happens again, you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise.” Lucy smiles back hoping to allay her friends concerns. “I think my nerves are just fried over college.”

To Lucy’s relief the rest of the group quickly switched into that topic. Juvia Lockser, Gray’s girlfriend was already a Sophomore in college, but she and the others shared their feelings of anxiety. It turns out they all felt similar to her, maybe even more so. Levy and Cana were born and raised in Hilo and had never travelled outside of the state before. Juvia is a transplant like Lucy except she came here for college from Seattle, Washington. It was only after meeting Gray at the University last year that she was folded into their group.

“Lemme see if I can explain it,” Levy taps her chin. “A lot of islanders feel like they’re stuck here— okay maybe not stuck, but like… they don’t wanna leave their comfort zone. So, going away for college is really nerve wracking, that’s why I’m really anxious about it and excited at the same time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Cana chimes in, “I’m nervous sure, but I can’t wait to go to Honolulu! First thing I plan to do is hit the clubs! And I plan to drag you with me Lu.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Lucy waves her hands excitedly while laughing, “don’t drag me into that!”

“Aww, come on, think about it! I’ll get you all hot and bothered and unleash you on Natsu.” Cana winks, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“OMG!” Lucy throws a handful of ripped grass at her friend as the other girls burst into laughter.

It’s not long in chatting with the girls that Lucy’s fears subside and the daymare is semi-forgotten. They talk about the rest of their plans for the weekend, like how tomorrow will be spent in the park checking out the latest volcanic activity and hiking the trails. Someone needs to stay behind to watch the camp, so Cana and Loke de Lioncourt agree to do it. Their reasoning is let the couples have fun exploring, but everyone else knows that the pair wanted some “fun time” to themselves.

Things were still quiet for Lucy by the time the men finish prepping the fire pit. The girls had made a simple lunch of sandwiches for the gang, so the guys join the conversation and things continue to flow smoothly into a relaxing afternoon. With Natsu by her side, Lucy feels an additional calming energy and that helps to settle the remnants of creepy sensations she was still having. She didn’t know how of why he was having that effect on her but welcomed it regardless.

No matter where you go, there are spirits and because of her abilities, Lucy did what she could to acclimate to her surroundings. After moving to the islands, she familiarized herself with local legends and lore, about the gods and aumakua’s (spirit guardians), and so much more. There were tons of spirits here. But that didn’t mean she knew everything or when or where she may encounter them, and she certainly was no expert in how to deal with it. There’s no training manual for this stuff. The lucky ones find someone to mentor them, but beyond picking up tidbits where she could, Lucy worked by intuition most of the time.

After the incident in the tent, Natsu’s instincts were heightened. He couldn’t get a good read on what Lucy was thinking or feeling, but he could tell something was bothering her despite her downplays. But unless she was willing to tell him, he could only guess why her energy was spiking in an unusual manner and as darkness approached it was only increasing.

He watches her closely and starts to notice more troubling signs. Clearly, she was trying to hide them, but her mood was starting to change from engaged to removed. Where she was chatting normally at lunch, Lucy had slowed to only answering when spoken to. It was as if her mind was elsewhere and her energy level was waning. It reminded him of her behavior in the truck on their way to the site. Was it returning again?

“Here you go,” Natsu hands Lucy a plate of dinner. The group had barbecued some meat and thanks to the buildings electricity were able to make rice for a starch.

“Thanks,” she smiles, though the look behind it gave off a disinterested vibe.

Lucy had been holding her arm around her stomach as if it were bothering her. He’d just hoped she would say something if that were the case, but she never had. He sits down beside her, eating, and continuing his vigil. Was Lucy getting paler, or was it just the waning light? Even her eyes seemed dimmer.

“Are you feeling ill, you don’t look well.” Natsu finally whispers hoping not to gain attention from the group.

“Huh? Why?”

“You just look a little peaked is all.”

“I don’t know,” Lucy picks at the contents of her plate, “maybe I’m still tired… I kinda feel zapped all of a sudden.” She was feeling ill, as if an unexpected flu was kicking in, but she didn’t want to admit it. Her stomach was queasy, and her head was starting to get dizzy.

“If you’re not feeling well, I don’t mind taking you home.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head determined to push through this bout. “I don’t wanna ruin your weekend.” But shaking her head was a bad idea and now she really felt dizzy. Why was this happening now? She’d been perfectly fine when they were in Hilo.

“Luce, helping my girl out isn’t gonna ruin my weekend.”

“Are you sure? Because…” her voice trails out and eyes roll back seconds before Lucy collapses forward. She never had a chance to finish.

The next 30 seconds is like a slow-motion scenes in a movie. Her name is screamed, and gasps ring out. Natsu reacts on instinct, dropping his plate and shooting his hand out to grab her before she face plants onto the ground. Everyone around them is on their feet in a flash, rushing over for support. When he lands partially under Lucy, Gajeel and Gray help him to get back into a sitting position with the unconscious woman still cradled in his lap.

Natsu could feel a dark energy gathering around her that hadn’t been there before, triggering electrical sensations along his skin, similar to what he’d felt in the tent. This was not good… not good at all! Whatever had affected Lucy earlier in the day was intensifying. “I better get her to the hospital, somethings not right!” He scoops the unconscious woman up and gets to his feet.

Gray reaches out to support some of Lucy’s weight as Natsu stands up. “Yeah, man, do what you gotta do.”

“And don’t worry about your stuff, we’ll take care of it,” Gajeel chimes in. “You just worry about you’re woman.”

Levy places a hand on Natsu’s arm, her eyes clouded and barely holding back the pain of her concern. This was her best friend. With such an eventful afternoon, every worst-case scenario was running through her mind. Was Lucy sick? What kind of illness could strike a healthy young woman down so quickly? “Please call us as soon as you find out what’s wrong, okay, promise me.”

“Will do, Lev, I promise. Thanks guys.”

As Natsu secures Lucy into his truck, the girls grab the couple’s personal belongings like Lucy’s purse and a duffle bag of clothing for him. The camping gear, tent and such will be safe in the care of their friends. He was doing all he could to stay calm because the last thing he needed was to lose control and wreck his truck or something. When he climbs in and starts up the vehicle, he notices Lucy starting to stir a little. She was strapped in so she wouldn’t fall over, and her body stayed slumped, but her head was working to hold itself up. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah…” she mumbles with her eyes closed.

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“What… happened?”

“You collapsed.”

Once he makes it out of the country roads and clears the forest, the truck roars it down the highway. Natsu wanted to get Lucy to the hospital as quickly as possible since it was about 40-50 miles away. Lucy was healthy, so he was concerned with the speed this illness had hit her, fast and hard.

He keeps his eyes on the road but checks on the woman in his passenger seat every few seconds. When they’d put her in the truck, she was barely ambulatory and coherent. Lucy still had her eyes closed as she rested her head in the crook of the door frame and seat. She was breathing normally as far as he could tell and at least her arm had relaxed away from clenching around her abdomen.

If he didn’t know better, it was as if Lucy had fallen asleep again. But the longer he watched, the more he could tell the situation was changing. After 10 minutes of driving and reaching the Fern forest area, she had shifted in the seat, stretching out her legs and sitting upright.

“How ya feeling Lucy?”

“A little better,” she responds. It was strange, but the heavy pressure she had felt back at the camp was slowly lifting the further they got away from it. Her body still felt tired as if all the energy had been sucked from it, but at least the foreboding vibes were melting away and she could breathe easier again. It was a complete reversal of how she felt going to the area.

“That’s good to hear.” It wasn’t just her words that brought him some relief. Natsu could sense the shift. The aura around her was no longer as dark as it had been at the camp.

Another 10 minutes or so passes by and they’d reached the town of Mountain View. Here Natsu was forced to slow down due to a slower speed limit and higher traffic flow. They come to a red traffic signal, so he takes the opportunity to make a better assessment of his girlfriend. Not only was Lucy’s eyes open, but they looked bright and her skin wasn’t as pale anymore. She was sitting fully upright just looking around as if taking in the view. Certainly not the look of someone being rushed to the hospital.

“Could we stop and grab food,” Lucy asks out of the blue when they’re about to hit Keaau town. He turns and looks to see her smiling at him. “I’m really hungry all of a sudden.”

“Um, yeah sure,” his eyebrow raises in confusion, “we could stop at McDonalds.”

“Great!”

“You know,” he pauses, “you seem a lot better Lucy, like completely normal and that’s kind of freaking me out.”

Lucy averts her eyes and her lips curve down in a small frown. “I’m really sorry for worrying you Natsu.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“I don’t really like to talk about it…”

“Well I think I deserve to know considering you just scared the hell out of me Luce.”

She sighs, “You’re right— I-I don’t know exactly what happened back there, but there is something I haven’t told you or anyone else.”

Natsu can see the moisture building in her eyes, she was clearly torn and upset over whatever it was. He wasn’t angry that she’d withheld something from him, maybe a little annoyed, but he assumed she had a good reason for it. Lucy was never one to lie to him, so this must be a big deal to her. “You know I’d never judge you, right? You can tell me anything.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she sighs again. “You don’t need to take me to the hospital, there’s nothing medically wrong with me.”

“Are you sure?”

Lucy nods. “Can we grab food and go back to your house? Then I’ll come clean… a-about everything.”

He picks up her hand and kisses it, nodding before turning off into the shopping complex’s parking lot. They order food through the drive through, then set off for his parent’s house in Hilo. It takes them about 20 more minutes to arrive and after giving a half-hearted explanation of cutting their trip short to his parents, the pair settle upstairs in Natsu’s bedroom.

Starving had been an understatement as Natsu watched Lucy inhale her burger. Normally he would finish meals first and would have to wait for her to catch up. It was eye opening, and probably the first time in all the years they’ve known each other he’s witnessed it. Of course, the whole day has been filled with new experiences with her, and this was the least concerning of it all.

With her food gone, Lucy pushes herself up and sits back against his headboard contemplating exactly how she should explain things to Natsu. She didn’t know why she was so worried about telling him, since he’s never been judgmental before. In fact, he often teased that he found her quirks endearing. But this wasn’t exactly normal. For his part, Natsu just sat on the bed in front of her in a cross-legged position, patiently waiting.

With her fingers fidgeting in her lap and her eyes boring holes into his comforter, Lucy starts out with a question of her own. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“Never seen one before, but I believe it’s not impossible for them to exist.” He shifts in his position to let his legs stretch out and props himself with his arms behind his back. “I mean growing up here and being bombarded by the culture kind of gave me an open mind to it.”

“W-What if I told you that I’ve been able to see them since I was a kid? Would you think I’m weird?”

“You mean weirder than I already think you are? No,” he chuckles, “I wouldn’t.”

“I’m serious!” she pouts.

“So am I,” Natsu laughs harder. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he leans forward and pats her foot, his expression softening. “I’m just trying to show you that it doesn’t bother me. I’m not making fun of you, I promise. Is that what is was back there, a ghost?”

Lucy shakes her head. “I don’t think it was a regular ghost, and I still don’t fully understand what happened.”

“How about starting from the beginning. You were distracted before we even got to the place.”

“It was strange… like, as we drove into the area, I was getting a creepy feeling, you know, like when the hair stands up on the back of your neck? I tried to ignore it, but it only grew stronger once we reached the site. I kept telling myself it was nerves and then that daymare happened.” Lucy didn’t want to admit it, but in hindsight all the warning bells were there, and she’d chosen to ignore them. The creepy feelings, the energy drains, that daymare… If she’d listened to her instincts, she could have invoked a protection barrier. Of course, with how strong the energy source had been, she didn’t know if it would have worked, but trying would have been better than nothing.

“Yeah, the daymare. Do you remember it?”

She squeezes her eyes shut still wishing she couldn’t, but nods, “I do.” Sometimes her abilities came in handy and other times it was more like a curse. Lucy couldn’t see ghosts, but she could feel them, hear them, and being a sensitive attracted them to her. Most were benign, simply stuck in this realm, while others were angry and strong enough to affect the living world. As a sensitive, Lucy was more likely to become a target because just as she could sense them, they could sense her.

“Are you up to telling me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to cause you were pretty freaked out about it.”

“I should…”

Natsu realizes just thinking about it is triggering a small panic attack again. He sees her body start to shiver and shake. “H-Hey,” he quickly crawls over, pulls her into his lap and cradles her. “Don’t force yourself.”

“No, I-I want to. Maybe if I let it out, i-it’ll help.” Lucy releases an exhale. “I was in the forest hearing all these drumbeats and chanting and it was getting louder.” Her hands cover her ears as if she was re-living the dream. “I was so confused, no idea how I got there. My feet started to sink into the ground, and I couldn’t fight back when something grabbed me. I-I started to panic and the word kapu kept ringing in my head. I was screaming for you, for anyone… ugh the drums! A-and that’s when I woke up.”

He moves her hands away from her ears and tightens his embrace in a bid to make her feel safe again.

“After you calmed me down, I was able to forget about it for a while. I figured it was just a bad dream and moved on. But then during dinner I started to feel drained, like all my energy was being sucked away. I tried to ignore it thinking I was just tired and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the truck.”

“And this has never happened to you before?”

She shakes her head no. “At least not this bad before.” This wasn’t the first time Lucy had encountered an area heavy with spiritual energy. The islands were rife with it, but this was the first time that it had affected her to this extent.

“So, it has happened before?”

“Sort of… like once before when I went to a place that I learned later has evil spirits.” Lucy relaxes a little. “Best I can explain it, is when there’s really strong energies around me, it makes me feel weird, like zapped. Maybe there were powerful spirits around the camping area.” A chill runs along her spine causing her to shiver. “Definitely not going back to that place again.” Lucy looks up at Natsu. “Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Far from it.” He hugs her tighter. “You just have a gift and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Lucy snorts a laugh, “can I return this gift?”

“Mmmm,” he chuckles too, “probably not. But you know, you’re not alone, right? I mean, you’re the only person I know that’s actually seen stuff, but as far as being sensitive, you’re not the only one. My mom says that I have a little bit of empathic abilities. I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I just know I pick up on how people are feeling around me. That’s why I kept asking if you were okay.”

“Wow,” her eyes widen, “I had no idea.”

“Yeah, cause I don’t advertise it,” Natsu laughs. “The guys know about me, but it’s not something I talk about to others.”

She sighs, “guess we were both hiding something from each other.”

“I won’t hold it against you, if you won’t hold it against me.”

“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy leans up and kisses him softly. She cups his cheek in her hands, “I really appreciate you being so understanding.”

He places his hand over hers, eyes smiling, just holding the special moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He then pulls her head against his shoulder.

Lucy settles happily on his lap just relieved that the whole ordeal was over. It was disheartening that she wouldn’t get to hang out with their friends this weekend but having Natsu with her was enough for now. They still had the rest of the summer to spare.

While she recuperated in his arms, Natsu sends a text to Gray and Levy explaining what happened. To his surprise the girl sends a message back saying she may know what Lucy was experiencing. There was a Hawaiian legend from the volcano area that may explain it. So, he calls Levy and puts her on speakerphone.

According to the girls readings, during the time King Kamehameha the First was working to unify all of the islands, many battles took place with local chiefs, including in the volcano area. Legend holds that sometimes spirits of deceased soldiers will continue to march in death. Such ‘Night Marchers’ have been seen right around the area where K.O.E.C. is located. They come out at specific times, which Levy had no idea when that could be. But perhaps, that was the source of what affected Lucy?

It was as good a guess as any.

Levy, “Some say that if the living encounters them, unless there is an aumakua in the procession of marchers to protect that person, they can become ill or even die from exposure. Course no one’s ever verified any of that.”

“I remember reading about the night marchers. I always thought it was exaggerated like a lot of claims are.” Lucy frowns, “but it sure explains what I might have been sensing.” She’d studied local lore because it was interesting to her and the culture in Hawaii made it fairly easy to research things. Stories of ancient tales and ghostly encounters abound here, but there was so much information, it wasn’t always easy to tell fact from fiction.

“Do you think they were warning you or something?” Natsu questions. “Cause it wasn’t even fully nighttime yet and I heard they come out later in the evening.”

“Ugh,” Lucy groans, “I have no idea because I really don’t fully understand all this stuff yet. Like I said, I thought night marchers were just folklore, so I never believed all the stories. But thanks Levy, knowing what it might have been makes me feel a lot better that I wasn’t going crazy.”

Levy, “Aww, you’re welcome Lu! It’s kind of late to pack it in for the night, but everyone agrees we rather find somewhere else to camp so you guys can join us for the rest of the weekend.”

“Wow, really? That’ll be so great!”

Levy, “Of course! It’s always better when everyone’s together. Take care you guys, and don’t worry about us. I’ll text you as soon as we figure out the plan.”

Natsu hangs up the phone and bundles Lucy close. “So, what’dya say? Spend the night here with me?”

“Your parents won’t mind?”

“Pfft, my parents love you. Just kinda bummed we can’t… you know,” he grins.

“I’m just as bummed about that too,” she teases, “but there’s always tomorrow.” Lucy cuddles against him and closes her eyes. Natsu’s energy was so soothing to her and now she knew why. It was kind of amusing that she ended up with a guy who had gifts like her, albeit a different one. Still, it made her feel normal for once in her entire life. “Thank you again Natsu, you know, for everything.”

He kisses the top of her head and leans his against hers. “You’re welcome, weirdo.”

“Yeah, well a weirdo you’re stuck with.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

><><><>Notes<><><><

Much of the spookier elements are based off an experience I had when I was around the age of 11 when we were taken to this location for a school trip. By the end of the day I was getting so sick a chaperone had to take me home, but just like in the story, once we were away from the area, I was completely fine. I’ve had many experiences over the years, this one isn’t even the scariest. No idea how you label me, all I know is I am sensitive, possibly an empath, I absorb and affect energy. I don’t actually see spirits, I just sense them and generally unless they are strong like those in this story, they don’t bother me or can’t because I can repel them now. Oh, and the reason I made Natsu have something too is just because lol. My husband actually sees stuff, and I think it’s ironic that I picked someone that has gifts too.

#nalu week 2020 #nalu #natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #au prompt #modern AU #ghost tale #petri808

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bruh-haikyuu · 5 years ago

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A/N: ITS FINISHED WHAT THE FFUCKK 7000+ WORDS THIS IS A BEAST. ENJOYY!!! :DD Thank you for all your support!

Fem!MC in this is the guitarist/lead vocalist of the rock band PARANOIA! She also went to the same middle school as Konoha, but because she’s deemed as a prodigy, they didn’t get to talk so much. I hope you all enjoy the interesting take I’ve put in MC’s personality!! :))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 1 - overture.

word count: 7287

warnings: slight angst, a lil’ bit of manipulation

(n.) an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera, suite, play, oratorio, or other extended composition

You’re not the type of person to care. Things flitted over your head so easily like they’re nothing more than a light breeze. But were you an airhead? Not exactly. President of the Light Music Club and one of Fukurodani Academy’s prized minds, people sought of you as a genius or a prodigy. But you never really understood what they meant.

Weren’t you just a high school student like them?

You just got bored very easily. That’s all there is to say. Sure, you hopped between multiple clubs and interests in your first year, but wasn’t that initial year your chance to discover yourself? At least that’s what your parents told you. And you did! Eventually. The Light Music Club was the only club you felt the most interest and where you could be your fanciful, “blunt” self without everyone else worrying about you.

What’s up with that, you asked yourself much too often to be comfortable. Worrying’s for old people like parents, or grandparents or even middle-aged women who’d found no hope for love. Exams are temporary, people are temporary, and if they’re going to last for only a while, why think so much about it? You could never get why everyone made being a high school student so complicated.

But it’s kind of frightening. Being a high schooler but not completely understanding what it means. What were you then? Maybe you were just as “alien” as everyone called you. Put yourself in other people’s shoes, was what you were often told by your bandmates when you’d told them about your woes.

“I’ve decided!” you announced today as your bandmates slash club members sat around you in a circle. “I’m going to get a boyfriend.”

“...L/N, this ain’t another one of your social experiments, is it?” your drummer Reo sighed, exasperation dripping in his voice.

“Yes, and no,” you said, crossing your arms. “Reeeooo, it’s not wrong for your little ol’ club president to find love, right? Besides, I’m already a second year, it’s only a matter of time until I graduate. So why not make full use of it now?”

Bassist Iori exchanged a glance with Reo before chuckling deeply. “Always the unexpected one, huh, Taichou*? Alright then, you have our full support, this is bound to be funny at a point.”

“What is your type anyway?” the first-year keyboardist Tsumugi (occasionally MugiMugi much to his dismay) asked. “Right now, I mean... Since you switch between interests so quickly, senpai.”

“Well it’s neither of you, if you’re curious. Reo’s got a girlfriend already. Iori-kun’s too stingy. And MugiMugi seems like the kind of guy who’d get married to his own mom.”

“Oi, senpai!”

It was true. They heavily reminded you of your three older brothers. And you were thankful to the heavens that they all decided to move away once they graduated high school. One more ounce of “brotherly defense” and you were sure you were going to run off to live in some live house.

“Still not sugarcoating your words, I see. But I’m glad you’re not going to force us to date you, ” Iori muttered, finding interest in the pegs of his bass. “Do you even have someone you like? You seem to be, uh...”

“Very much married to your guitar,” Reo followed. Your drummer and his short-cropped hair was particularly quick to catch on cues and make a humdrum comment about it. It’s very obvious that he tries (keyword: tries) to empathize with you, but the fact that you just become a deeper enigma everyday just pisses him off.

You frowned, getting up from your rickety chair. “Lennon-chan is a very valuable item to me, but I won’t stoop so low as to marry it! I’m interested in a human. Hu-man. We went to the same middle school, so if you were thinking that my affections are baseless, then think of another question for me to answer.”

How unbelievable. You didn’t understand how people thought you were less of a person than they were. You have a set of lungs, human skin without a zipper that opens up to your Martian scalp and a teenage heart for another to hold. What’s so hard to believe that you were able to like something long-term?

“So, who is it then?” Tsumugi asked.

Tapping your finger on your chin in mock wonder, you gave them an impish grin. “Konoha Akinori.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Second-year student Konoha Akinori was not a big fan of surprises. He only enjoyed them when he was surprising the person. Other way around... not so much.

Which was not aiding to the reason why he was standing at an impasse with Fukurodani’s resident free-spirited prodigy L/N Y/N.

Your eyes twinkled brightly as you edged closer to him in the school’s near-empty courtyard. “Hello, Konoha-kun.”

“H-hello, L/N-san.”

What was going on? Why was this happening? Was this some sort of prank Bokuto had pulled on him? If it was, then how unfair. To have the prettiest girl in their grade approach him so suddenly... The entire thing reeked of craftiness, and Konoha resolved that Bokuto wouldn’t have gone so far to pull his leg. But why was this happening, again?!

“L/N-s-san, you’re a bit too close,” he choked, back pressed against a wall. Much to his gratefulness, you pulled back to let him breathe. If you had advanced one more step, he’d turn into an oversized tomato soon. Konoha Akinori the Human Tomato—that didn’t look so good on his college applications...

This girl’s danger, he thought. He knew about you. Heck, he even went to middle school with you. Sure, Konoha appreciated your beauty and talent as a person, but your alleged habit of jumping around interests just because “you were bored” terrified people to no end. You were a troublesome one, weren’t you?

“Konoha-kun, is it true you have a crush on me?”

Troublesome! Konoha cursed. His first real confrontation with an attractive girl and it had to be completely direct? No frills, no shoujo sparkles? How unpleasant. At least you shouldn’t pin him to a corner wall like this! Konoha just wanted to melt into a puddle and become absorbed into the soil.

“L-L/N-san, a lot of people have a crush on you!”

“I know. But I’m asking you. Do you like me?” your poised smile was the photograph of absolute nuisance. Blunt this, blunt that, was the way people described you, but Konoha never expected you to be this plain-spoken. Was there even a right answer when it came to your questions?

“L/N-san, you can’t just ask me something like this! I-I mean you’re pretty and smart and everything, so of course I had a crush on you, but isn’t this a little too late for that?”

Konoha swore your shoulders drooped at his words. But even that slight action was enough, to form a small incision to his heart. Just how human were you to have so heavy of an effect on him?

At that point, he was sure you were going to give up and leave him alone—possibly looking for another boy to meddle with... Until you chirped again in your nonchalant manner.

“But do you still like me?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Then, why don’t we find out?”

‘Find out’? This was getting increasingly complicated. Out of all the people you could’ve trifle with, why did it have to be him? If only you were just more cute, instead of just plain out... surreal.

“We can go out for two months. You can find out if you do still have feelings for me, and I can learn why people make high school love seem more complicated than it should be,” you explained, counting off your reasons with a raised finger in each hand. “If it doesn’t work out by then, we’ll break up and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

In the silence that followed, Konoha was registering the information that had left your lips. Your words glitched in his mind like his mother’s old computer; always loading, never processing. There were so many questions he wanted to ask you, but he’d expected you to fling them back with more perplexing questions of your own. So he said nothing. In the silence that followed, he didn’t notice the glower that surfaced on your features as he let your offer dangle in the wall of space between you.

“We can go out and you can make Bokuto-kun and KomiKomi stop harassing you about being lame when it comes to girls.”

“How��” No. He wasn’t going to ask how you had his entire case figured out. Because he knew whatever reply was going to come out of your mouth was just going to be an indifferent: “It wasn’t a difficult process”. At least, Konoha knew that much about you.

Of course, the feeling of having a girlfriend—and someone like you, surprisingly—was going to be more than enough to rub into Komi and Bokuto’s faces. In fact, they’d leave him alone for eons if he did! It was a tempting deal, and he ached to shake your hand and get it over with. But your own motives... “Complicated,” you’d said. The way you’d said it to him was almost pitiful. Konoha guessed you really did live on a different wavelength than other people.

Still avoiding your anticipating eyes, he replied, “Give me time to think about it.”

You didn’t particularly enjoy being forced to wait—not because you were an impatient person. “Thinking about it” only blooms ambivalence in return. And the longer someone thinks, the more doubtful they’ll become of their genuine resolve. If Konoha became cynical of the truth, your little ‘investigation’ would definitely go awry. What would happen to your ‘love’ then?

“Alright, but don’t take too long,” you spoke, raising your hands to your hips. “I’ve got your number so I’ll send you a text and you can save mine.”

Watching you spin on your heel and your back slowly shrink into the horizon, Konoha did a double take, finally taking in your final words to him.

“Wait, how’d you get my number?!”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned your head. Shooting him an impish grin, you broke the short absence of noise, and all at once Konoha really felt like he was in trouble.

“It wasn’t a difficult process,” you said.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“That’s...” Sarukui rolled the zipper of his jacket between his fingers before deciding on an appropriate word, “...very unsettling.”

In the privacy of the boys’ club room, Konoha crossed his arms. He’d made a face, just enough to border between pity and discontent. “Unsettling’s right. Do you think she’s a creep for just having my number like that?”

Tapping his chin with his index finger, the lax-faced boy replied, “I mean we are in the same grade. And she was class rep in our first year too, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if she just had our numbers kept with her.”

From the corner of the room, Washio rumbled, “She’s actually not that bad. Though I admit she’s very strange.”

Turning his attention to the burlier male, Sarukui put his hands together, “That’s right, you’re in L/N-san’s class, aren’t you?”

“I remember that time she offered to lend me her World History flashcards because I forgot mine,” Washio recalled, moving towards the center of the room. “It was great for a while since she’s the smartest person in the class... but then...”

“...Then?”

“It didn’t matter because I couldn’t read anything she’d wrote on it. There were a couple of cards where she wrote backwards and all while she kept switching between kanji, hiragana and katakana mid-word... A prodigy’s brain is truly terrifying.”

Even though the story was rather amusing, the three only let out a despaired sigh.

“Aah, but it’s true that Y/N-san’s a really nice person,” a voice piped up behind them.

Their manager Yukie silently trudged into the carpeted floor, her usual skittish smile broadening against her face. The four second-years pooled around the room, one visibly concerned, the other confused, the third conflicted and the last... slightly hungry. Drawing out her breath, the hungrier one explained.

“She doesn’t seem like she has any bad intentions to me, it’s just that she tends to look into things too much... I mean, Y/N-san always gets to the point without any reason for her actions. But that’s because she doesn’t know how to explain it in her own way. If you think about it... don’t you think she’s actually really shy?”

‘Shy’ had no business with the way you’d confidently strode up to him, asking for Konoha to go out with you. Though he was blatantly thinking of the fact that you’re just messing with his head, Yukie made a point.

You’d barely made any friends in middle school, always separated from the crowds... but you’d react like it didn’t matter. You were always on a different wavelength with the special treatment the teachers gave you, so he hadn’t bothered to talk much with you either. The whole time you were so quiet back then, was it because you were trying to understand the situation?

Now Konoha felt really bad for calling you a ‘creep’. “Geez...”

“Hey, hey, hey! G’morning!”

Like the heavens had heard his woes, they sent him Bokuto for God knows what reason. Barreling inside the club room, the wing spiker was an untamed ball of energy and mischief that Konoha didn’t want anything to do with right about now.

“Y’know, a couple of girls approached me today at lunch. I was super shocked and everything,” Bokuto trumpeted, unravelling his tie. “My chances have grown pretty big since I started using my straights, don’t you think?”

“Not bigger than your head, I hope,” the blonde scoffed.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Bokuto laughed raucously enough to make the entire room silent lest for the drop of a pin. Slinging an arm around Konoha, he poked at his sides making the boy flinch and jump.

“Heey, Konoha-kun... You don’t have to be so mean when you’re jealous~” he grinned. Konoha rolled his eyes in retort. “You’ll get your big chance one day.”

Bokuto’s attempt at being passive-aggressive was just so Bokuto that anyone in the right mind would’ve found it extremely annoying. Konoha didn’t even know if he was even “jealous” anymore; the entire concept of having the ace constantly pester him everyday for the rest of his life for being so lonely was exceptionally haunting.

And to think that he’d constantly thought the things that came out of Bokuto’s mouth could be genius... maybe it had just been provoking. Blood boiling. As the others stifled their quiet snickers, Konoha reached for his pant pocket, the stiff outline of his cellphone taking the shape of his palm. Perhaps he could humor you. Just this once.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Good morning, Aki-chan!”

Snapping his head quick enough for whiplash, Konoha’s widened stare locked itself on your beaming profile. Putting two and two together, he reddened at the affectionate name you had gifted him.

“L-L/N-san, you don’t have to call me that...”

As you bent down to slip your outside shoes from your delicate feet, the boy couldn’t help but to ogle at your tantalizing figure, but quickly averted his gaze once you smirked at his actions. Keep it together, teenage hormones! he scolded himself.

“Why not, though? I mean, we’re dating now. You can call me by my first name too if you want, you know.”

That’s right. Fueled by the frustration he’d harbored for his friends, Konoha took the action of texting you back, saying that he’d taken up your offer. Your reply was nothing short of innocent giddiness and delirium that he’d felt the searing tightness of regret in his chest.

But it wasn’t like you wouldn’t be able to see through his intentions soon enough. If anything, you’d even brought it up during your “confession”. You’ll be fine, Konoha had convinced himself. Like the rumors said, if you didn’t like it, you’d probably just leave. You knew that much, at least.

“I don’t think couples immediately start calling each other by their given names on the first day they go out. Besides, isn’t this just a trial run?”

“You’re supposed to get the entire experience in a trial run, right?”

“Well yes, but—”

“Don’t you want to get as much out of two months as possible?”

He’d almost forgotten about the limited time he’d have to use you against Bokuto and Komi before you mentioned it to him again. Two months is long enough, he thought, the effect will last even longer if they knew I was dating L/N-san.

“Right, L/N-san.”

“Y/N.”

“Um... L/N...chan?”

“Y/N-chan.”

“Anyway!” Konoha slammed the door to his shoe locker for emphasis, privy to his crimson cheeks. “Homeroom’s about to begin. D’you want me to take you to your class on my way?”

You looked up at him placidly, “Class 5 is on the end of the hallway though... Won’t that mean I’d be taking you to your class?”

Moving behind you to give you an encouraging push on your shoulders, your new boyfriend sighed hurriedly, “Yes, yes. Let’s just go already, L/N-san.”

And like it was your birthday, your face lit up like Christmas lights. Pulling the arms that rested on your arms so it wound securely around your torso, you looked over your shoulder to send the flushed second-year a grin.

“Oookay! The Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train is leaving the station, hold on tight~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The face Iori gave you made you think your lungs would fall off from laughing. Your light-haired classmate blinked twice before realizing that his knife was close to grazing his finger. Giving the fragrant chocolate one last slice, the bassist turned to you for affirmation.

“Taichou’s cheating on Lennon-chan... How daring...”

Veins popping from the grip on the rolling pin, you leered at him from where you were standing. “Do the three of you still think I’m married to my guitar?”

“Of course—Ow! Don’t hit me with a pin if you know I’m right!”

“Now, now, L/N-san, Tsuyoshi-san, don’t get too excited about making cookies back there,” your bearded Home Economics teacher (who’d heavily reminded you of an endearing bear) guffawed heartily, before turning to the left side of the class in utter concern. “W-wait, Shirofuku-san, don’t directly eat the dough!”

Nudging you with his elbow, Iori whispered, “So... two months? How do you know the guy’s not just using you to get back at the Volleyball Club?”

Turning on the tap, you let the cool torrent of water pool in your hands before replying to your bandmate earnestly.

“Oh, he is using me to get back at the Volleyball Club. I figured it out when he texted me back. ‘S not a big deal, though.”

Iori’s shoulder drooped in melancholy. It was sad, on the verge of plain out pathetic. You were his friend, for Heaven’s sake. Yet, he knew you were lonely. Of course, he felt eternally relieved that at least he and the rest of PARANOIA could temporarily lift that despondency from you. But due to God’s intent, neither of them were fated to completely understand your dispositions. And for that, he lamented behind the wall that the world planted around you, unable to reach out nor sympathize. If this Konoha guy was your last resort to your long-term goal of universal comprehension, then it better not be a big deal.

“People say it takes about 2 to 3 months to fall in love with a person. If these two months don’t turn our relationship in the path we want, then... I don’t care if we break up too. It wasn’t like I expected much from myself in the first place.”

“Taichou...”

In the solemn silence that followed your words, your nose perked up at a certain toasty smell coming from behind your friend.

“Iori-kun, the chocolate.”

“Don’t change the subject. You need to consider if this “relationship” will really make you happy.”

“Iori-kun, it’s burning.”

“I know despite your flaming desire for love, you—Aagh!! My chocolate! Taichou, why didn’t you say anything?!”

You scratched your nape as you watched your frantic classmate splash the bowl of darkened chocolate with a flood of cold water, kindling plumes of sweet-smelling smoke to rise softly in the class.

Happiness. You frowned back at Iori’s words (as the latter sobbed at his valiant efforts in scraping his overly-meticulous work from the steaming bowl). I’m already happy enough though.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“L/N-san... You don’t have to follow me to lunch on the first week,” Konoha grimaced at the girl trailing behind him through the staircase.

“Why not though? We’re—”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rustled, “We’re dating. Yes, yes... But don’t you usually sit with your band during this time? Won’t they ask where you are?”

You hummed hopping down the last few steps before turning around gracefully in front of your boyfriend. “Mm... I think they’ll be more thankful they’re getting a day off from me. Don’t worry though, I won’t say anything if I don’t have to!”

Oh boy.

“L/N-chan’s at our lunch spot...” Bokuto murmured blankly.

Amongst the burly volleyball players eating their lunches in the courtyard, you seemed like a dainty flower about to be devoured by a pack of Titans—as if you weren’t the more threatening one in the bunch. While the familiar third-years gawked with their heads short-circuiting in your presence, the meek first-year setter politely bowed, his obvious ignorance of you surfacing.

“L/N-chan’s eating lunch with us...” you watched Bokuto aimlessly mumble against the yakisoba bread in his mouth.

“Bokuto! Don’t go to the light! W-we’re sorry about this, L/N-chan,” Komi shook the owl-headed spiker in his trance. Thrusting his own box of food towards you, he reddened. “P-please have some of my sausages as an apology, O’ Great Deity!”

Sarukui pulled the libero back by his blazer, sending the boy flying backwards with his bento still thankfully intact. “Hey, Komi, don’t just suddenly ambush a girl like that... Say, L/N-san, you want to try some of my tamagoyaki*?”

“Saru, you leech!”

Anyone who was passing by could indefinitely tell that this group of people was undoubtedly hazardous. An overly-excited Bokuto who had sparks and smoke coming out of his head, an apprehensive Akaashi trying to calm their spiker down, Komi and Sarukui wrestling over their lunch boxes, a bulky but terrified Washio who was slowly edging away from the crowd, a Konoha who was gradually regretting his choices and a L/N Y/N, though seemingly frail, was able to create chaos with a bat of an eye.

Watching the entire ruckus go down, you did feel a bit bored. Gaze flickering to your side, your mouth watered, “Ooh, Aki-chan, is that spicy konnyaku*?”

“Huh? Yeah, you want some, L/N-san?” your boyfriend said, offering you his food nonchalantly.

Dipping your chopsticks into his box, you flashed him a beam brighter than any sparkling night. “Thank you for the food~ Mm, not spicy enough...”

In the silence where you chewed the stinging cake, the Volleyball Club’s bedlam had finally subsided. Their star-struck gazes at you replaced with incredulous glares at Konoha who proceeded with his meal in peace.

“‘Aki-chan’...” Komi repeated. “What’s going on with you two?”

Leering in mischief, Konoha grinned. Chest puffed out like a breasted bird, he set down his food before taking your hand and raising it for the rest to see. At the warmth of his hand, you couldn’t help but redden from the blood that rose to your face. Moments like this really did remind you why you thought he’d seemed so attractive from the beginning.

“Oh, I haven’t told you yet? We’re dating,” he smirked, making sure that he drew out each syllable, prolonging his announcement as much as possible.

“Huh?!”

Dwarfing the previous catastrophe into the size of an ant, the boys went frantic again. Even Bokuto who’d seemed so shocked by your attendance, snapped out of his daze from the outrageous amount of disbelief.

“E-eh?! Konoha and... L/N-chan... no way. That doesn’t make sense... something’s not right...”

You smiled behind the soft pads of your fingers. Noticing Konoha’s worried gesture, you played along, much to his delight, “What is it, Bokuto-kun? You also have girls surrounding you. What’s so different?”

“Ehhh? Lost your chances, Bokuto?” Konoha continued, the smirk on his face growing wider.

“Dammit! The Great Deity’s going to get stained... she’s going to get stained...” Komi wailed.

“Bokuto-san stopped breathing! Konoha-san, do something!”

He felt like it had rained after years and years of a drought. Refreshing. Cool. Satisfying. The same people who’d teased him for lacking a ‘chance’ was now melted in the head from his relationship. It was exactly how he wanted it to be. And you played it out so perfectly for him. A beautiful ‘girlfriend’ with a heart of gold.

Sighing, Konoha smiled at your giggling face. He wondered. For someone so advantaged and strange, you only seemed like a high school girl to him right now. Just his ‘girlfriend’ for two months. Not the genius L/N Y/N, not the zealous musician L/N Y/N. Just... L/N Y/N.

The shrill shriek of a chime brought you to wake, as you pulled him up from his seat while snickering. “It’s getting very loud here, isn’t it? Come, Aki-chan, I’ll take you to class again.”

Tightening his grip on yours, he gave you a knowing nod before following you to escape the scene in a trail of laughter. As the bell subsided in your wake, you didn’t even realize you’d arrived at the second-year hallways. And all that while interlacing hands.

Quickly retracting your hand, you sheepishly glanced at your shoes, “Ah, sorry. You probably don’t want to have that much physical contact so soon.”

Damn, if you were already pretty with even a poker face on, seeing your blushing face took the cake. “N-no, it’s fine. Thanks for backing me up back there. I don’t think anyone would’ve believed me if you didn’t say something.”

Tilting your head sideways, you said, “It was getting a bit dull, so I was glad we made it more lively. You’re very entertaining, did you know?”

“And so are you, Y/N-chan,” he smiled, ruffling your hair.

In the light of the midday sun, Konoha Akinori was blind to his own natural appeal. It was unfair and admittedly cool of him to just ensnare you with a dazzling twinkle, all while taking you by surprise with a reposeful call of your name. Your middle school classmate who’s now your temporary boyfriend... you just wanted to have him all to yourself forever.

He couldn’t deny it. You were magnetizing. Attractive in a way that lived beyond beauty and intelligence. Konoha couldn’t believe that someone so strange would make his chest go tight. It disappointed him that it would only be temporary. Once the two months expired, you’d treat him like no more than a stranger. But just this once, he wanted to relish this quiet moment with you.

Suddenly, like an iron wall had emerged from the ground between the both of you, your phone rang. You didn’t know if you felt relieved that your embarrassment was interrupted or were you annoyed because of it.

Quickly reading over the text, you smiled eagerly. “Ooh! Iori-kun finally finished the reservations for the live house!”

Konoha had almost forgot you were in a band. A rock band that consisted of you and three other male members. Lips faltering, he bit his tongue. They’re her bandmates, Akinori! What are you so jealous for? It’s not like you’re her real boyfriend or anything...

“Got a performance coming up, L/N-san?”

“Yep! It’s our first anniversary show since we formed PARANOIA,” you said, trailing off before a light bulb flickered in your head. “Do you want to come and watch? It’s in a few months.”

And like a cupid had shot his heart, Konoha found himself with a ticket for one to PARANOIA’s Anniversary Concert by the end of the day. Concert tickets that would expire the same day as your relationship.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

If you could list down all the things that happened this past few months, you’d probably end up describing it as “adventurous”. Even for you who’d expect a couple things or two from the start, the things you could do while in a relationship took you by surprise most of the time.

Little by little, your boyfriend had opened up to your usual audacious advances. Compared to the cuter, more nervous Konoha who you approached two months back, this Konoha was more bold, and vivacious. And unbearably even more attractive than you’d hoped he’d be. But he was considerate as usual—though you wished he wasn’t, because this ‘modesty’ of his was especially embarrassing on your end.

His friends slowly got used to your presence (while Bokuto was still slightly dazed from your relationship status). You came to the Volleyball Club’s practice matches, both under Konoha’s request and your own bored intentions. And it came to your attention that he flaunted his feathers more vigorously when you were around. Fukurodani’s Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of None... was much more of a show-off than you’d thought. How amusing, you’d think.

On the other hand, your bandmates had kept hanging on to their belief that you were still easily aroused when it came to your guitar (though you were very sure that it was more of a teasing gesture than their own immature stupidity). For this reason, you’d dragged a pale-faced Konoha to your practices in the Light Music Club more often than he’d hoped. He was your stamp of proof that even you had standards—a terrified-looking stamp that flinched whenever Reo spoke to him.

“Reo, you ever thought of putting on a Precure shirt on when you talk to people?” you’d said to him one day, as Konoha’s ears perked up from your conversation.

“No,” the drummer had replied vacantly, giving his other bandmates a boiling glare when they stifled their giggles.

“Ehh? Why not? Your gorilla face is just too intimidating for the world to get used to, so if you wear a shirt from the cute anime you love—”

“L-L/N! You promised to never say I liked Precure out loud! K-Konoha-san, please forget about this!”

And that day, you’d seen Konoha laugh. A genuine laugh not laced with nervousness or pity. A laugh caused by your own honest-to-morbid humor. It had been a pretty laugh. And Konoha admitted he hadn’t laughed so freely in such a long time.

There was also countless things he’d never done in such a long time, and all that was revived in a mere two months with you in tow. Eating spicy hotpot with you until his lips grew swollen, visiting a CD shop to spam all the music players in the store to play the same song, teaching someone to serve a ball, studying together in the library (though he ended up studying much less with your intricate rambling). Your penchant for boredom made you seem brighter to him. And Konoha began to wonder if it was a crime to finally realize he had feelings for you, even when he’d used you to get his friends off his back.

She’s better off not dating a jerk like me, he’d decided.

But it hurt. It was like a thousand daggers had pierced through his heart every second he thought that it’d be over soon. It hurt to admit that Konoha thought you were funny, pretty, smart and so goddamn endearing.

He loved you. He loves you. But just because he does, doesn’t mean you do.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Thank you for your support for this past year! Please continue to give PARANOIA your love for the following years to come!”

Your throat felt hoarse from the singing, but as soon as you stepped inside the dressing room, it was all squeals and giggles again. Even the high-strung Tsumugi, forehead shining in sweat, was jumping up and down with an equally excited Iori in his embrace. And for a while, Reo seemed much softer than his usual demeanor.

“Reo-kun~ That a smile on your face?” Iori teased once the four of you had settled down.

“Shut up, ‘Ori, you’re grinning like an idiot too,” he shot back.

Tsumugi piped up, untying his tie from your stage outfits, “It’s good that we’re smiling, isn’t it? We played really well, we should at least appreciate ourselves for that effort.”

Moving towards your unsuspecting underclassman, you poked him behind his ear, amusedly watching him flinch and swat your hand away. “Ah, MugiMugi’s talking like a wise, old man, but that totally contradicts how much you were hopping around during our last song, right? Young people are cute, aren’t they?”

Blushing profusely, he scoffed, “Don’t call me cute when you have a boyfriend. That’s just troublesome, senpai.”

And like the devil had ushered for him, a knock sounded on the door. Reo, closest to the entrance, swung the door open and gave their guest a pleased smile.

“Ooh... it’s Konoha. Thought it’d be my admirers or something,” he muttered in a mock pout.

“Ehh, you have plenty of admirers out there, Mizushima-san,” Konoha chuckled. “But I’m here for your guitarist.”

When Reo, Tsumugi and Iori moved out of your way to rush to the exit to “leave the both of you alone”, you placed your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders. “Say, Aki-chan, let’s go on a date right now.”

“Right now?! Where?”

“There’s an arcade nearby,” you chirped before leaning over to whisper flatly into his ear, “It’s our last day. Let’s make it count.”

He nodded, but his face faltered at your forced grin as you led him out the door in your typical “Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train” fashion. Last day, huh? That’s right. Konoha had nearly forgotten about it. And the fact that you’d brought it up panged across his chest. This “train” of yours could just be the last time he’d ever be so close to you. The real you.

After that, nothing.

Determination crowning his face, he grabbed your hand as you exited the live house and rushed to get to the arcade as soon as his legs could carry him. Too soon. Two months passed by too soon. Not yet. Not yet.

It couldn’t end like this.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“For someone with really good analytical senses, you suck at claw machines.”

You elbowed his side, laughter bubbling from your lips. “Look who’s talking! You looked like you were going to eat me when I scored a point in that air hockey game.”

Stopping in his tracks on the quiet sidewalk, Konoha winced at the memory. Perhaps he should’ve held back, considering you were a girl. But that would’ve been a stupid move altogether, knowing that you’d expect his moves. Konoha won anyway, much to his surprise—but only to have the game spew out a total of zero tickets before you realized the machine was faulty.

“What did you get with your tickets?”

Rummaging in your pocket, you pulled out a plastic package with a silver chain glinting inside it. “A souvenir for you. Mm, if I had more tickets, I would’ve gotten you a rice cooker or something~”

Taking your offering, Konoha raised his eyebrows. “A flower necklace? Shouldn’t you keep this sort of present? I mean, you won it and everything—”

“Keep it. It’s a gift for putting up with me this entire time.”

“Ah... thanks.”

Konoha wanted to say something. Anything to make the moment last. Alas, nothing. You didn’t say anything either—not like you could. It’s over now. Everything has ended. Did you grow to love him in the end? You didn’t know.

“It’s... getting a bit late. We should go home,” Konoha said. Though he wished he didn’t. “I guess this is goodbye... Thanks for being my girlfriend, L/N-san.”

You said nothing in reply as he slowly turned his back to you to leave. It was a temporary thing, things that come and go. And he’d used you to his own advantage against his luckless friends. But why were you so worried about his goodbye? You’d pulled off this entire thing in hopes to feel a romantic love that you couldn’t comprehend. It was supposed to be fluffy and heart-pounding like your mother and your brothers’ manga had described it to be.

But it was painful. Like a skyrocketing jolt of pain that nearly made your knees buckle. Why? You didn’t even know if you could love someone when you’ve been isolating yourself for so long... You loved your family, you loved your band, but did you love Konoha? You didn’t get it. What’s with that...

“I don’t understand...”

Hearing a quiet sniffle with a familiar lilt, Konoha spun around to be met with your teary gaze. And it was like the entire word had been sucked into a meaningless void, and the both of you were left to inhabit this desolate world.

“H-hey, L/N-san... d-don’t cry, come on,” he rushed to your aid as more tears rolled down your cheek soundlessly. Oh, how Konoha wished he knew how to comfort a crying girl. “Look, I’m here. I-it’s okay, it’s okay. Agh, I’m not very good at this... um...”

“I’m sorry I made you do this,” you wept. “I’m sorry I forced you into dating someone you don’t like. Everything’s all wrong...”

“Y-you don’t have to apologize! It was fun, everything was fun with you,” he blabbered, hands rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I-it was my fault too... I just wanted to get back at Bokuto and Komi that I—”

Crap, he said it.

“I knew you were using me for that. I’ve always known.”

Konoha froze. Of course you’d find out, he’d established that point the moment he texted you in agreement. But something about your revelation made it feel like he had committed homicide. He really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I thought I wouldn’t mind if you broke up with me since you’d accomplished your goal... but I’m so upset. You used me but you treated me well. You used me but you made me feel loved. You don’t seem to have any feelings for me, but you made me like you... like like you. I don’t get what you’re trying to do. Konoha-kun’s so confusing...”

The entire time you’d been making him feel butterflies in his stomach... you were trying to understand him? Konoha frowned. Gutting any residual feeling of doubt, he grabbed a plastic package in his coat pocket and shoved it in your hands.

“You don’t have to understand anything if it makes you happy!”

Your blood ran cold. He’d never shouted at you. But the determined expression on his face urged you to open the package sitting daintily in your palm. It was the same chrysanthemum necklace you’d given him. Was he giving it back? No... this necklace was slightly different from the one you gave him.

“I got it for you when you were out to the restroom. I was planning to confess to you with this after our date, but you made it seem like you didn’t like me. What’s with that, huh? Of course I like you! You don’t think I regret using you for a petty revenge every single moment we went out? When you made it so hard for me to not fall for you?”

Konoha couldn’t even hear the words coming out of his mouth. Whatever they were, he hoped he got his message through to you. Good and honest. Honest and true. Panting, he watched your tears slowly subside.

Wiping the droplets with the sleeve of your jacket, you weakly punched him on the chest. “You’re an idiot for falling for me.”

Ruffling your hair, he sighed, “That makes two of us. Idiot.”

As the silence dwindled, you played with the hems of your skirt as you spoke quietly, “So, are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Confess.”

“Ha... now? Right here?” he groaned with a cheeky cadence.

“Don’t mess around. I’ll definitely cry again if you don’t do it.”

Chuckling, Konoha pulled back from you with the necklace he’d gifted you back in his hands. “Yes, yes. How bossy...”

He bowed. In the middle of a public sidewalk. But it didn’t matter, because whatever was going to happen next was in your control.

“L/N Y/N-san! I’ve always liked you since middle school when we were on cleaning duty together and you helped me erase the blackboard. My feelings died out for a while because I thought you’d be too distracted to acknowledge me, but after two months of your “trial experiment”, I’ve grown to like you again. So please! Go out with me.”

“Ehh... that was much blander than I’d thought...”

Suddenly, Konoha knew how Reo felt when he’d wonder whether or not you were giving out enlightenment or backhanded comments. Clicking his tongue, he crossed his arms. “How would you do it?”

Proudly clearing your throat, you bowed as he did. “Konoha Akinori-kun, the ignorant fool from Class 2. I’ve come to realize my feelings for you. Though I don’t remember the ‘you’ from middle school, I’m glad you were there to remember me anyway. You were right. The time we spent together was fun; I don’t think I’ll ever get bored with you around... If you will, please accept my humble feelings. I want to keep understanding things with you. That itself would bring me the greatest joy in the world.”

“That... that was actually pretty good. Though, let’s talk about the part where you called me an ignorant fool—”

As Konoha spoke, you reached into his pocket to extract the necklace you’d given him earlier. Placing it in his palm, you smiled warmly, relishing in the blush that dusted his face. “I’ll be in your care, Aki-chan.”

Slipping his own necklace into your hold, he clasped your hands together. “So will I, Y/N-chan.”

And like déjà vu, your stomach rumbled loudly. Embarrassing, you groaned.

Taking one hand in his, the both of you walked through the sidewalk. “Wanna eat? I’ll pay.”

“...Sichuan hotpot*...” you said under your breath.

“No way! I’ll end up with diarrhea like last time. We’ll just eat fast food...”

“Ehehe, Aki-chan can’t handle spicy food~”

“Y/N-chan, pick on me one more time and I’ll split the bill.”

As the two of you burst out in laughter, your arms swung back on forth against the course of the wind. Neither of you even thought of letting go.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“K-Konoha’s wearing a flower necklace... Dude. If you have a secret you want to tell us, we can always financially support you...”

“Bokuto, I don’t know what ridiculous things are going on in your head, but I know they’re absolutely wrong.”

Buttoning up the last button of his shirt, he slipped the silver chain behind the fabric, it’s steel coolness imprinting itself near his tepid heart. Noticing the faint chirps of little sparrows, Konoha turned his attention to the light streaming from the west-side window. Autumn’s here.

“Hey, are you going to eat with L/N-san again today?” the ever-smiling Sarukui called for him from the door.

“Ah, yeah. She said she wanted to show me a new song she was working on.”

Chuckling, his friend let out a long breath, “Lucky you.”

Konoha smiled. Lucky indeed, he thought as you waved at him from where you stood below. In the green of the plush fall grass, yellow, pink, red and white blossoms surrounded the courtyard where you’d first approached him. Yellow, pink, red, white, and two silver chrysanthemums to welcome the new season.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

taichou - captain/leader

tamagoyaki - japanese rolled omelettes

konnyaku - japanese yam cakes

sichuan hotpot - a REALLY spicy hotpot with sichuan peppers

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #konoha akinori #konoha akinori x reader #konoha x reader #konoha akinori imagine #konoha akinori scenario #fukuroudani x reader #bruh haikyuu writing #ensemble bruh haikyuu #2K special #sfw

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julessworldd · 4 years ago

Text

Little Rose Ch. 2

Warnings: Arguments, slight/implied smut, alochol, angst at the end, fluff at some parts. A/n: A lot of stuff is off from when it happened, sue me. It is a fanfiction so thing aren’t extactly to the timeline. Like events between mandy and duff. No hate towards Mandy! I have nothing against her. Again sorry for making Duff such an ass, it’s just for the plot. love our sweet boy. Suprise apperances, you’ll know ;) enjoy babes!!

A couple days later, I finally peeled myself off the bathroom floor. Slash had laid with me the first night, but had a date last night.

“Y/n, what happened? You’ve not been at work”, Slash asked me, after finding me on the floor. “Oh hi Slash, just depressed is all. Stupid boy stuff”, I sighed, slighty moving my head towards him.

“What happened? I’m a boy”, Slash laid next to me. “No, its dumb”

“Y/n, tell me or I’ll call Axl on you”, Slash said. “Okay” I sighed.

I had told him what happened between Izzy, Duff and I, even my feelings for Duff. He let me cry and say what I needed to say or felt like saying. Threatened to kick Duff’s ass, I told him it wouldn’t fix anything, but appreciated the gesture. Slash accidentally let it slip that Duff had a girlfriend, she was in a band, blond, sorta my height. At least he listened to me. I grinned. “Y/n, are you okay?”, Axl busted in and ran over to me. “Yeah, I am now. Thanks to Slash”, I said grabbing my purse. “You’re not sick”, Axl held his hand on my forehead. “No Ax, I got into a depression rut is all. I miss my boys so can I come back to work?”, I asked. “Of course, I need your opinion on songs”, Axl kissed my cheek. “Race ya to the cars”, I nudged him. I won and won racing to work. “Did you cut me off?”, Axl asked. “No, it’s called winning”, I scoffed.

“Izzy came up with the name, but I don’t know if it would fit my lyrics”, Axl was explaining a song when we walked into the studio. Steven, Slash, Izzy were sitting on the couch, smoking away. “Janie, you’re back!”, Steven ran to me. “Yeah, I’m back Stevie.” I let go of him and sat on the arm of the couch, next to Izzy. He looked up at me and patted my knee. Silently letting me know he was sorry and missed me. I smiled back at him. The door opened, making us look. It was Duff and I assume his girlfriend, they were making out. “Duff, it’s time to work now”, Axl grumbled. My heart broke into a million pieces seeing him. Izzy sensed it and looked at me, “You were right”, I mumbled for Izzy to hear. “Don’t matter, Janie. You okay?”, Izzy asked. “Why wouldn’t I be”, I sighed. Duff and his girlfriend walked in, “Hey Duff, who’s this?”, the blond asked. “Oh, this is Janie, Axl’s little sister and our assistant”, Duff said, tuning his bass. “Hi, I’m Mandy”, Mandy stuck her hand out. “Uh yeah, hi. Axl, you want your tea now or later”, I brushed her off. Probably gonna be another chick tomorrow to be honest, why get friendly with her. Axl was gonna say something but Duff cut him off, “Janie, she was talking to you.” “I know and?”, I snickered from my place next to Izzy. “And? Have some manners, Christ sakes”, Duff said hateful. “First off, leave my sister alone and get in the booth. Janie, I’ll take my tea now”, Axl finally said something. “Sure thing, Axl”, I smirked. Duff rolled his eyes and shook his head. Before lunch, Mandy told Duff she had to go record with her band across town. “Okay, 10 minute break guys”, Axl stretched his back. The rest of them went out, but Duff stayed behind. Obviously, why he did. “What the fuck?”, Duff said as the door shut. “Excuse me?”, I asked. “Why were you so fucking rude to Mandy? She was just being nice, you’re the only one who hasn’t met her yet.”, Duff huffed. “Why does my approval matter, huh? I’m your assistant, I just grab your lunch and follow your orders. It’s not your decision if I like your girlfriend even Axl’s. Just get the fuck out of my face before yours ended up through the booth glass, okay? I don’t owe you shit, you broke my heart, bastard!”, I yelled. “You won’t do it, Rose”, Duff got into my face. “Get the fuck away from my baby sister or I’ll fucking bash your head into the glass personally!”, Axl yelled.

“Whatever, I’m out of here”, Duff pushed by the guys. “And stay the fuck out!”, Axl yelled. “Janie, you okay? He didn’t touch you did he?”, Axl turned to me like a mother hen. “I’m okay, just a misunderstanding”, I said staring at the door. Axl took his fingers to my chin, he was studying my face. “Janie, come with me”, Izzy said. Axl let me go. “You two talked about the other night?”izzy asked, handing me a cigarette. “Not exactly. He confronted me about how I acted towards Mandy. Like I’m gonna be buddy buddy with your new whore.”, I scoffed. “You’re not wrong, she’s not my favorite person”, Iz grumbled. “I wasn’t rude to her right, Izzy”, I asked. “Different circumstances, yes you were. But, he’s doing this to make you jealous”, Izzy said holding my hand. “Thanks, Iz”, I blew out smoke. “Anytime, kid”, Izzy flicked his cigarette ash. “I’m sorry about the other night. I don’t want you to fuck off, you’re my brother, I love you”, I laid my head on his shoulder. “I know you don’t. Don’t get all warm and gooey, I’ll ash my cigarette on that big ass forehead of yours.”, Izzy smirked. “You could sell Wyoming on yours”, I winked at him. “Sit on it, Janie”, Izzy rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Fonzie”, I hopped off the milk crates. “You’re definitely Potsy, kid”, Izzy grinned. “Keith Richards called his wants his style back, Isbell”, I opened the door. Izzy would kill me one day for sure, but then would probably break down from realization.

“You okay?”, Slash asked, grabbing my hand. “For now, if I’m gonna lay on my bathroom floor, I’ll call you”, I smiled at me. “Please do”, Slash said seriously. “Thanks, Slash”, I kissed his cheek.

The phone rang, “Hello?”, I answered it.

“Hey Janie, wanna come to a bar with us?”, Kelly asked.

“Hi Kells, sure why not. Do you want me to drive or what?”, I grinned. Traci still kept in contact with Axl, Izzy and me, I met his new band. Kelly and I hit it off pretty well at the Whiskey Go-Go. “I’ll come get you, babe”, Kelly said.

“Okay, be careful”, I grinned, already planning my outfit. I stepped out of my room and saw Kelly perched on my couch’s arm. “Goddamn, you look smokin, baby Rose” “Thanks, Kelly. It was my intention to be smokin tonight”, I grinned, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Who you after? Word on the street is that you and Duff quit fucking”, Kelly opened my door, to let me out. “Who told you?”, I asked. “Duff”, Kelly whispered. “Fucking course he would do that. What am I a whore or what?”I asked, getting curious to what that fucker was saying about me. “Just said you went all crazy and kicked him out. Told him to find a groupie and hoped she gave him crabs”, Kelly said as we pulled up to the bar. “I said herpes, not crabs. What’s the word on Mandy? His new chick”, I asked wanting to be nosey and use it for blackmail. “She’s in an all girl band, singer, they met after a show at the Starwood. You’re way way hotter than her by the way”, Kelly said, holding the door for me. “You’re really flirty tonight, Kells”, I smirked. We sat with the band after, getting drinks. “Ah ello, Janie”, Phil smirked. “Hi Phil”, I sat down between Kelly and Traci. “Hey kid, how are you?”, Traci pulled me into his side for a hug. “Been better, Trac. You?”, I asked. “Heyy Duff! Didn’t expect you here”, I heard a dude yell. There he was, standing at the bar in all leather, hair teased in a messy punk manner, he looked good, besides her perched on his arm. “Janie”, I slightly heard Traci call out my name. He had probably heard what happened between Duff and I. I stood up and pulled Kelly to the bar with me, “Can you act like you’re trying to fuck just long enough for me to be petty?” “I don’t have to act, babe. Tell me what to do? I won’t push you too far, okay?”, Kelly rubbed my wrist. “Okay, Kelly and be rough as you want and follow my league”, I smirked. Duff and Mandy were sitting at the bar, chatting. “Hey Joe, two beers please?”, I brushed Duff’s back as I leaned to the bar. Kelly wedged himself to my back side, trailing his hand on my hips. He tried to unlace my leather pants, “Kelly, not now”, I squealed. You could tell Duff was trying to ignore us, but couldn’t. “Here you go, Janie. Tell your brother I said hi”, Joe smiled handing Kelly and I our beer. “Thanks, Joe I will”, I said.

“Come dance with me, they’re dancing”, Kelly whispered in my ear.

“Perfect”, I smirked at the opportunity to make Duff’s skin crawl.

Kelly pulled me towards his crotch, “Be slutty as you can be”

“Sure thing, Cowboy”, I smirked and rubbed my body down his. Kelly was grinding himself on me, I nudged back, he kissed my neck. Duff had moved himself and Mandy closer to us. Kelly noticed and grabbed my boob, “Sorry”, He whispered loud enough for me to hear. I moaned out as he started attacking my neck. Kelly had his head burying my neck, kissing my neck and ran his hand down my thigh. He was really playing his part, give him that. “Be louder” I opened my eyes and caught Duff’s hazel one, looking into my blue ones. He was fuming. Kelly bit down on my neck, making me moan his name, “Mhmm, Kelly” Duff grabbed Mandy and left. Kelly was still on my neck, I wanted to tell him the show was over, but he felt so good. “Hey Kells, he left already but wanna come back to my place?”I asked, grabbing his hand off my hip. “Fuck yes. I know you were just doing it to piss Duff off, but damn we got too into”, Kelly whined, pointing at his dick. “I’m sorry, Kelly. Come on, you need some help”, I pulled him to his car. Kelly got in and I went to his pants, “Mhm, what about your brother? He’ll kill me if he finds out”, Kelly said with a look of fear in his eyes. “Duff and I had been fucking for almost two years and the motherfucker still doesn’t know.”, I said. “Okay then, continue”, Kelly said sliding his pants and underwear down to where I could reach him. “Fuck”, Kelly threw his head back groaning.

He pulled up to my apartment, “Damn, you’re really good at head” “Thanks”, I smirked. It was morning, I woke up, “Who the hell? Oh It’s Kelly”, I rolled over. “Yeah, it’s me”, Kelly smirked. It was 8:15 am, I was due at the studio at 10. “Hey, uhm I gotta be at the studio at 10, wanna shower with me?”, I asked. “Sure”, Kelly picked me up in bridal style. Izzy watched me pull up, “What the fuck did you do last night?” “Went to a bar with Kelly, seen Traci. Why am I late?” I asked, stealing his cigarette. “No but you smell like booze and shame sex”, Izzy dead panned. “It wasn’t shameful sex”, I rolled my eyes. “Was it with Duff?”, Izzy asked as we walked back in. “No”, I said. “Who?”, Izzy asked again. “Don’t get mad or even tell Axl okay?”, I looked up at him. He nodded. “Kelly”, I breathed out. “Okay, at least it wasn’t a random fuck. Did he wear?”, Izzy smirked. “No, I’m on the pill nosey ass”, I punched his arm.

Izzy, Slash were in the booth. Axl was talking to the press about something, Steven was in the booth with them. Duff and I were sitting down, and the room was fueled by tension. “Why did you tease me last night?”, Duff spoke up. “What are you talking about?”, I rolled my eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Janie. That’s not the first time you’ve teased me at a bar with another guy”, Duff said, staring at me. “Why did you leave after, you heard me moan?”, I shot back. Duff was quiet. “What I thought, McKagan”, I smirked as Axl walked in. “God, I hate the press at times” “Who are you supposedly banging now?”, I asked Axl. “Every supermodel in North America, any groupie”, Axl smirked. “You still have great posture after fucking those girls”, I grinned at him. “Thanks sis, it’s a secret talent of mine. Duff it’s your turn”, Axl said sitting next to me by the panel. “You do anything last?”, Axl looked at me. “Uh, Kelly picked me up and wanted to go drink. I saw and talked to Traci. He wanted me to tell you hi”, I said, marking a list of things that had been done. “Nice, glad you had fun”, Axl patted my knee. “You busy tonight, Ax?”, I asked. “Probably gonna watch a horror movie later tonight. Why do you wanna join?”, Ax asked. “Yeah, I do. Miss us”, I smiled. “Miss us too, kid”, Axl smiled. He always tried to make time for us to hang out besides work.

I was walking to my car when a hand grabbed my shoulder, “Can we talk?”, It was Duff. “Why so you can go tell people on the strip that I’m whore for kicking out?”, I cut my eyes at him. “I didn’t call you a whore, you’re not either. I was pissed, it was after our argument, I went drinking and a few guys were around.”, Duff said. “A few guys that happen to have been in the band. Traci and Kelly told me all about what you said. If I’m whore then you’re just a lawful player that used me as another notch on his belt.”, I looked up at him. “Janie, I’m sorry for talking about you like that, I’m sorry for being a dick the past two days. I didn’t mean it”, Duff whined. “Fine. As for now, I’m just your assistant, so don’t talk to me unless you need me to get you lunch or something okay? Cause I’m done with you as a friend and a sleeping buddy, so go home to Mandy and leave alone”, I patted his shoulder. “Janie” “No no, I’m serious. Now goodnight, Mr. McKagan”, I said, getting in my car and heading to Axl’s. I looked in the mirror, he was standing there, flabbergasted as I drove away. Maybe I was too harsh on him, but fuck him, he broke my heart.

Grocery shopping is one of the things I hated about adulting, but it had to be done. I was in the frozen section, looking at my list. “Janie?”, I looked up to see Mandy. “Oh hi, Mandy”, I smiled. “Just shopping and noticed you was all.”, She smiled. “Right? Huh, listen. I’m sorry for how I acted towards you, the first time I met you. Duff and I had a fight and I was mad at him. I’m sure you’re a nice girl and I’m sorry being a straight up bitch that day.”, I finally got it off my chest. “It’s okay, we’ve all been petty towards another girl before. He told me what happened between you guys. All is forgiven”, Mandy grabbed my hand and smiled. “Yeah, but it wasn’t right. It was between me and him. Uh, enjoy your shopping”, I looked down. “Thanks, you too. It was nice talking to you Janie, see ya later.” Mandy smiled before walking away. “You too”, I mumbled, looking around for Duff to be laughing with her as they were doing it just to make me the fool. No blond in sight.

Next few weeks, the boys were planning their town for this year. They finished their EP weeks ago, I was proud of them. I was sitting next to their producer at the panel, the door opened and the boys walked in. “Hey guys”, I smiled. Various ‘Heys’ responded back. “Can’t wait for you to see this tour, Janie. It’s so kickass”, Slash pulled me into a hug. “Kickass is very you guys”, I giggled in his arms as the door opened. Mandy stood.

“Hey babe, what are you doing here?”Duff brushed pass us.

“Are you free for lunch?”she asked, twirling something on her finger. “Of course, I was just getting my bass I left here. Oh almost forgot! Hey guys, Janie come here.”, He grinned pulling her to his side. We all stood, Slash still held me at his side. “What Duff?”, Izzy mumbled. “We’re getting married”, Duff said, bringing Mandy’s hand towards us. A circle cut diamond adorned her finger. “Good for you guys. I’m happy for you Duff”, Axl pulled him into a hug. The guys told them congrats and they were proud of him for being a man. “Janie?”, Mandy asked. My chest heaved, I pushed Duff out of my way as I ran down the hall. “What’s with her?” Axl asked as I cut a corner. “I’ll go find her”, Izzy said, taking off. I tried to run but my legs gave out on me, Izzy caught me. I started bawling, my whole world was tumbling down, he wasn’t gonna be mine anymore. “Shhsh”, Izzy rocked me in his chest.

#guns n roses imagine #duff mckagan imagine #izzy stradlin imagine #axl rose #slash x reader #steven adler x reader #kelly nickels #la guns #again Izzy being the best big brother #Axl defending his baby sister and being a mother hen is so cute #I promise duff will be a nice boy again #don't hate me for making Duff an ass

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tuffduff · 5 years ago

Text

Life After You (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: angsty/fluffy Duff x Reader

Words: 4,733

A/N: Hey loves! This one actually isn’t a request, I was inspired by Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well” and actually didn’t intend for this to be so long, but it just came out.

P A R T T W O

Seattle had never been your home. You were not a born and raised native, never quite got used to the torrential downpours and overcast skies. In fact, you always waited for the day you would eventually move, figuring the setting to be just a minor stepping stone in your ultimate life story.

Until you met him.

It started in autumn, with falling leaves and brisk air. You had barely entered your twenties and the existential dread hadn’t yet set in; you were itching to find your niche and sense of belonging. Maybe that’s why you agreed to go with friends to some punk house to see a local band. The guys playing were interesting for lack of a better word, and you found yourself staring at the bassist. He was the tallest of the bunch with shaggy blonde hair and wandering eyes that kept finding their way back to you. You brushed it off though, thinking you were imagining it, until your friend leaned over and whispered, “the tall blonde one is checking you out.”

After the show, when the band began mingling with the small crowd, you wondered if he was going to come and introduce himself. That’s when someone hollered a warning for the cops and everyone scattered. You split out one of the backdoors, thankful that you lived just down the block.

“Hey! Wait up!” You slowed down in the alley, watching your breath in the air as the tall blonde ran to catch up to you. He had something in his hand; the scarf you had worn out and already forgotten about. It must have slipped off when you ran.

“Oh...thank you! You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, accepting the garment back. He shrugged a little, trying to keep eye contact but slightly faltering.

“I’ve never seen you around before.” He noted.

“Do you recognize every face around here?” You asked, unable to stop the smile from forming on your face. He smiled back.

“Only the pretty ones.” You weren’t expecting that. Nor the blush that crept to your cheeks. “I’d known if I had seen you before.”

“This is my first show. You were really great, by the way...?”

“Duff.” He replied, sticking his hand out. You took it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

“Do you live far?” He asked. For some reason, it wasn’t threatening. Some wall had already been broken from the beginning, when you both couldn’t stop staring.

“Down the block, thankfully. I should be able to make it home in about five minutes if I walk fast.” You replied.

“How about I walk you and we make it in 10?” He offered. You tilted your head.

“Why 10?”

“We’ll walk slow.”

That was exactly what happened. Ten minutes turned quickly to 15, and then 20, with the both of you talking outside your residence, both of you seemingly unwilling to let the night end. You were freezing beneath your coat but didn’t notice; Duff however was without a jacket and had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

“Can I see you again?” He asked bluntly. You smiled.

“You know where to find me.” He smiled back.

“Cool. Okay. Have a goodnight, Y/N—” he had turned to start walking away, but you had grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him. Gently, you draped the scarf around his neck.

“I think you need this more than I do. Take good care of it, you hear?” You told him with feigned seriousness. His returning smile was one you would never get out of your mind. Even to this day.

And so it went you discovered real love. Maybe with other people, they didn’t quite realize it at the time, but with Duff, you just knew. He was your first love, and with him came a new stage in your life. There was life before Duff and now life with Duff.

Back then, you had been blissfully unaware that there would be life after too.

Days quickly turned to a weeks. Months passed; holidays were celebrated in a new fashion, always together. Him not having quite enough money for a Christmas present, so he wrote you a song and gifted you a necklace that had once belonged to his grandmother. There were never any arguments, the both of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You figured, in the back of your head, that it was infatuation and it would wear off soon, but for those months, neither of you could get your fill.

Somehow a year had flown by and you found yourself back in autumn again, a year under your belts as a couple without possibly being able to imagine being more in love. And yet, you found new ways to fall in love with him just about every day. The two of you moved in together, Duff working at a bakery and you doing your best juggling school and working at a record shop, where Duff would spent his free time.

He had a broad assortment of family members and friends and you had taken a spot amongst them. They all knew you too, they were now your friends. Duff’s mom had you over every other weekend and would bake pies with you, telling stories of growing up during the depression and what Duff was like as a child. The charming youngest, always creative and eager to perform his duty as a man, trying his best to look after his mom. “He’ll always do his best at taking care of you and succeeding, but I’m just glad he’s found someone to take care of his heart.” She would tell you.

Duff knew he could make real money moving up at the bakery he was at. After-all, he was a hard worker and his bosses appreciated that, and really, it wasn’t bad work. But he always talked about music; the both of you would stay up at night staring at the darkened ceiling sharing your hopes, your dreams, your past, your futures. Sometimes the ceiling would grow light as you stayed up talking. Your fears would come into conversation too, but those moments were fleeting; you were both young and ambitious and fueled by love, what in this life couldn’t be accomplished when you had that?

He talked too, in disdain and grief, about the state of his hometown, of the dangerous heroin use spiraling out of control, vowing he would never turn out like them. He said he was ready to get out, like you had always said.

But then you were offered a chance of a lifetime, an internship at the local radio station for your journalism degree. You couldn’t leave now, but Duff was already decided. It left you both at a fork in the road.

“I would never stop you. You’re right. The only way you’re gonna know if you can make it is away from here. I’ll be right behind you; I’m sure I can easily find work in LA after my internship.” You put on a strong face and decided to be his rock. You had to take care of his heart. After all, your love was the strongest thing you had ever experienced. If you were meant to be, it always would and you had no doubts whatsoever, even if it meant time apart.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll call you every day. You’ll have to visit when you have the chance, okay?” He took your scarf amongst the bare minimum of things packed away in his old car, and you waved goodbye with a smile and weird sense of displacement, but ultimately, you were hopeful.

Time somehow went faster and slower after he left. He did in fact call you every day, telling you about his new job working at the same restaurant with his brother. The shitty apartment he found and how he slept with cockroaches. “You wouldn’t last a day here, baby.” He teased you over the phone when you lamented your disgust. “Every night there’s helicopter lights outside my window. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow…” He kept your spirits high with his humor, even miles and miles away.

He told you all about meeting Slash and Steven, who were looking for a bass player for their band. He called you with a heavy heart often because he missed you, he called to hear your voice when he doubted himself. The excited phone calls were your favorite. His happiness was yours and it was beginning to sound like he might just have a chance in LA—not that you ever doubted it.

You answered every call at first, but as your semester went on, it got harder. Your phone calls grew scarce, but he still kept you updated. He mailed flowers to your house when you had your finals, somehow scrounging up money he had made from gigs with his new band, Guns ‘N Roses.

“The guys can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.” He told you over the phone and you would laugh listening to the group of guys yelling their hellos in the background. You had chatted with all of them at one point. They called you hotshot affectionately, impressed by the fact that you were actually obtaining a college degree.

Graduation came, but Duff didn’t. He had a gig the same night. But it wasn’t a big deal to you, his mom and sisters came. Duff called you as soon as the gig finished, and though you stayed on the phone for over an hour, you still cried yourself to sleep.

Aspiring for LA right out of the gates had been a naïve pipedream on your part. Duff had done it, but it was different for you. Turned out, it wasn’t the place where dreams came true, at least not for you. Work sent you across the country, all the way to Spartanburg, South Carolina, where you found work as a reporter.

“Someday when we’re actually making money, you won’t have to work anymore.” Duff would try to reassure you. To his credit, he helped you move despite his busy schedule that was only growing more demanding. “I’m gonna give you the life you deserve.”

“I don’t mind the work, if it weren’t here.” You told him, smiling. “Gotta get something out of this piece of paper though, right? I just…miss you.” You never knew missing someone could cause physically heartache.

“Believe me, babe, I miss you more. The guys are tired of hearing about it. But we’re gonna be together again soon, just wait. You can stick out here and you’re going to do amazing and soon, we’ll both be living in some nice place in LA.”

This was the point in your life where you were so busy you couldn’t keep your eyes open when you made it home at night. You had long hours, early hours, and it seemed your schedule and Duff’s schedule, or, lack thereof, never matched up. If he called, it was usually after midnight when you were sleeping. If you called back, it was early morning, when he was sleeping. Communication was exchanged more through voicemail than an actual call. You saved every one that he left you.

Guns N’ Roses gigs were now selling out all the local clubs. There was a record deal for his band, and then an album. You were climbing your own ladder too, and just when you finally had the opportunity to work out of LA for a promising up-and-coming music magazine, Duff was about to be taken away, on tour. You only had about a week together in LA when you made it. But what a week it was.

“Every day you weren’t here, I would wake up and the sun would be out and the first thing I would think is ‘Y/N is gonna love it here.’” He told you as you drove down Sunset Boulevard. He had an actual car now to his name and new clothes and you had never been attracted to him more in your life. The both of you spent at least a day marveling over one another’s new appearances.

“God, I can’t believe I get to call you mine. You just look different,” he told you while stopped at a stoplight. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you, traveling up and down in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. “How is it possible that you’ve gotten more beautiful?” His smiled, you told yourself to remember the moment, to take in the warm glow of the sun and crowds of people on the street, Guns N’ Roses on the radio as you drove, palm trees over your head. You were in bliss. At least, most of the time.

Love was just as you had remembered it. That reunited week was like heaven for your tired soul; you had grown used to an empty bed and now you still couldn’t catch up on sleep, the two of you wasting each night tangled in limbs and sheets, still unable to get enough of each other. He showed you his favorite parts of the Sunset nightlife, some of which you didn’t have the heart to tell him you disliked; the shady Mexican restaurant where patrons were getting blowjobs under the table, or the various clubs they had played and conquered, where bar-goers puked outside the doors and went back in for more.

The rest of Guns N’ Roses were as authentic as Duff and they were easy to appreciate and get along with. They never made you feel like an outsider, even when that was plainly obvious—you didn’t dress like the girls on the strip and you never let it bother you, you were simply being you and that was enough.

Though you and Duff still had endless conversation to share, you couldn’t help but notice a difference, one glaringly obvious one; he drank more than he ever had before. It would start with vodka out of the gates and never seemed to stop. You were the only one left to carry him home, sober and still living in the real world.

“Baby, maybe you should slow down on the drinking.” You tried to tell him before he left for tour.

“Hey—don’t worry about me, okay, beautiful?” He breezed off your words with a kiss goodbye and a smile. “Take care of yourself and don’t miss me too much.”

This time, time went even faster. The magazine was in high-demand and you had several assignments seemingly all at the same time, ever moment of every day. You even had the pleasure of covering Guns N’ Roses as they became one of the hottest bands in the world. It seemed everywhere you went, all you ever saw were guys dressed like Duff, or Duff’s face on the cover of a magazine. On MTV, sometimes the news. Now, everything felt surreal.

This is where things get blurry; you don’t spend too much time in this period of your memories. Why would you? The drunk phone calls. Lonely nights in LA. The nasty rumors. Any time you were reunited, all you could smell was liquor. To this day, the smell made your stomach drop.

“Duff, I’m serous. I’m not asking you anymore, I’m telling you; you drink too much.” You were forced to put your foot down during a rare time of being reunited.

“Y/N, ease up. It’s not that big of deal, that’s what we do.”

“Since when?” You questioned. “How many times did we talk about old friends back home, how many of them took it too far?”

“I’m not like them.” He snapped back. “I don’t depend on drinking, or coke, or anything—I’ve only done heroin one time!” This was the first of many times his addiction finally began cracking away at your heart. You couldn’t fathom that he didn’t see an issue in his words.

“Duff, you said you never would.”

“So what, it was one time, Y/N! It’s not like I’m addicted, get off my back.” No, these were not the conversations you spent your time thinking of.

It began a long battle in your relationship that you were both destined to lose, and also became an internal battle to yourself. Maybe you had it all wrong, after-all, it wasn’t as if you didn’t indulge in drinking every now and then too, the both of you were young, it was LA—what was the harm? You tried desperately to see it from his point, he was a Rockstar, he did have an image to maintain…but that never held up in your head rationally; this wasn’t your Duff. He didn’t give a fuck about an image. But was it your place to police him? Often times, you just felt like the lame girlfriend. You started keeping your mouth shut despite your growing alarm and aching heart.

Too quickly, it turned to recklessness, then even quicker to hopelessness. To the rest of the world, Guns was still the band that was gonna take over the 90s. They were on one of the longest rock tours in history, they had a double album out, but you knew better. They had already lost members; you had written the articles about Steven and then Izzy’s departures. You sometimes wondered at night if Duff would be next.

He hadn’t even been there to help you move into the new house the two of you bought together. It felt as empty as your relationship and you wondered why you stayed, only to have the question answered every time you looked back into his eyes. Would you ever not love this man?

“I’m gonna fix it, I swear. I just—there’s nothing I can do. Axl’s always late and so we just—we drink. And, I can’t help it, Y/N, you know those panic attacks I always used to get? It’s not like you’re with me anymore and I just get them all the fucking time. I can’t fly without drinking; it just sets me off. I can’t take all the shit, when we’re late to the stage all you can hear is the crowd getting angry...” you knew all about that; you had written an article about the Riverport Riot. At this point you were tired of writing about the latest of the controversial rumors and incidents.

It wasn’t as if his words didn’t break your heart. You were at a complete loss. Rationally, you knew he had a disease that you had to fight together, but it only resulted in the both of you screaming at each other. Duff wasn’t at a place where he wanted to change, that was what made it hard.

At first, you avoided the realization, you tried running from it. When friends asked, you always said your relationship was better than ever. But the worse his issues got, the more you were pushed to confront them. It was just drinking anymore, it was pills and cocaine and whatever else just happened to be in the room, whatever someone slipped him.

Ultimatums weren’t your thing; you were never going to beg someone to prove you were important. Plus, you had seen addictions cripple people. Duff was in its vice grip and had already slipped away from you, it was very obvious what you had to do. But how? How could you, he was your soulmate. This was still the boy who had walked you home that autumn night—he was all you knew. How do you unravel yourself from someone tied so intricately to every detail of your life?

You couldn’t tell him at first, you just packed up and left. You ran. It was a while before he called you, demanding to know what was going on. To date, it’s still your most humiliating phone call. It’s not a memory you revisit, ever, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the pain of it or the embarrassment—you had cried so hard you couldn’t work the next day.

For a while, you felt empty. Lost. You would cry at stoplights. You would cry at lunch, in the grocery store passing by his favorite chips. The radio was much too risky to ever bother with, if it wasn’t one of their songs coming through the speaker, it was his favorite Prince song, or a song tied to a memory.

The youth of your twenties faded that day and you were pushed into the next period of your life reluctantly, your steps sluggish and uncertain. It was autumn again, cozy months where people spent their time with loved ones. You spent it crying over the idea of Thanksgiving alone, unable to pull out any Christmas decorations or pretend to care about any semblance of a normal life; all of this was new again and still littered with the broken promises of something you thought you would never lose. How were you ever going to decorate a tree again when he wasn’t there to put you on top of his shoulders to place the star? Who was going to make snickerdoodle and gingerbread cookies by your side? His jackets and shirts made up half your wardrobe, his fingerprint on your life was almost entirely irreversible.

It wasn’t as though he gave up on you. Sometimes he would call. At first you always answered, frantic and hopeful.

“I stopped drinking,” he told you, but had a slurred speech.

“Then why are you drunk?” You questioned, already on the verge of tears.

“I’m not drunk,” he denied your words. “I haven’t drank vodka in a week.”

“Then what are you drinking?” You were aware of how stupid you sounded, playing along, but couldn’t stop the hope you felt.

“Wine. It’s not bad,” he insisted. “I stopped drinking for you, why aren’t you happy? Y/N…C’mon, please, I promise I’m better now, I just miss you—” You hung up. That night was a bad one.

Looking back, maybe there were more bad memories than good. It wasn’t as if you were unbiased. But maybe the good outweighed the bad by importance. Duff had shaped your life, the foundation of who you were. When you thought of love, you thought of him, and gave up the concept.

Now, just barely entering your thirties, you found yourself surprised to be back in Seattle. Maybe deep down you were still chasing after the best time of your life. It probably wasn’t healthy to let your mind wander backwards, but it did, every time you took certain roads. Sometimes you avoided them, but most of the time, you drove down the tree-lined roads, remembering when it had been the two of you. Back to a time when you thought you hated the rain and couldn’t wait to get out of it; now rain brought you peace.

Life was much more peaceful now. You worked as a freelance writer and genuinely enjoyed the topics you wrote about, thankful not to have to write another Guns N’ Roses article. It wasn’t like there was much to write about anyways in that category; there were rumors the band was on the brink of breaking up. It was still lonely, but the pain had subsided. You were okay with being alone and you were smart enough to fill your time with meaningful activities.

You never lost contact with Duff’s family. His mom finally stopped trying to apologize. You did your best not to consume your waking hours following the band, trying your best to force yourself into moving on entirely. Duff had released a solo album, and though your heart still swelled with pride, you couldn’t listen to it. There were rumors a lot of the songs were about you.

Nowadays, the reminders of him were scarce. He looked to be in rough shape, but you did your best not to let it bother you; that wasn’t your battle. You stopped crying and you had developed your own routine. Routine was important. Your house was decorated the way you wanted it and you had a dog, an affectionate brown Labrador. Now, you considered this place home and had favorite spots and local shops you spent time at, and yes, some of them were places the two of you had once frequented, but the reminder didn’t hurt anymore. The hurt was still there, if you pulled everything back and looked down within, but mainly, there was an appreciation for what once had been. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It was clear that wasn’t the case when you left your favorite coffee shop one Sunday afternoon and spotted a familiar face across the parking lot. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you—his hair had been long for years. This man no longer looked puffy and fatigued like you had seen in pictures, he was leaner and had short spiky hair. More importantly though, his eyes were clear. That was when you were sure you must have been dreaming.

“Y/N?” He said, his voice unsteady, but somehow still sounded the same. Your coffee tumbled to the ground and he reached out too late. “Shit. Sorry, I...” he trailed off helplessly; you hadn’t even looked down at the spill once yet.

“Duff?” You asked, waiting for wake up from this weird dream. He stood a little bit back from you.

“You still come here, huh?” He asked after a moment, trying to smile. When you didn’t reply, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I heard you moved back. I didn’t really believe it at first, but I guess...I bought a house here too.” you didn’t reply still, no words could come out. He shoved his hands into his pockets and you could feel your eyes watering. “How have you been?”

“Good. Fine, yeah.” You replied quietly, somehow able to keep the moisture in your eyes. “I’m surprised your home and not on the road for your album.” Maybe you had paid more attention than you realized. He looked down.

“...Yeah. Um,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “I actually canceled a lot of the days earlier this year, I was exhausted. I thought maybe coming back home would be better for me...I...” he paused before he shook his head a little and let out a breath. “It’s been...a real eye opening few months.”

For a second, your heart pounded hopefully and you wondered desperately what that meant, before you told yourself to stop.

“To be honest, I’m in a hurry, so...I should probably get going.” Your tone was suddenly curt, sharp and brisk as the autumn air; the falling leaves behind you threatened to break your composed façade; it was all taking you back to a different time and you knew you needed to leave. Duff suddenly looked apologetic.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, uh...” he shrugged. “Um...I just. I know you’re busy and everything, but...maybe, just...” every time he met your eyes, he looked away again. You bit your lip hard.

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of free time nowadays. I’m sure you get it.” You forced out. He nodded, looking down and backing away from your car.

“...Yeah. Well...take care.” He ended lamely. The longer you looked, the more it was apparent his eyes were actually clear. “And I just…I hope you know I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard and turned away without another word to get into your car and seal yourself away. Inside, you could finally let yourself crumble, feeling the mixture of a pounding heart and butterflies quickly crumbling and falling in your stomach, your hands shaking as you tried to get the key into the ignition.

Realizing in panic maybe you had made a mistake, you quickly turned your head to find him again, but only caught a brief glance of him before he entered the shop, and that’s when it caught your eye.

The red fabric around his neck, nestled into the leather jacket he had on.

Your old scarf, still there, the lasting image of you on him.

You weren’t the only one struggling with accepting the loss of the only real thing you had ever felt in your life, but it wasn’t enough to move you from your car. So you sat, engine idling, until finally tears that had started as a stream turned to just a few stray drops. But it took you longer than 5 minutes, longer than 10, to finally drive away.

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