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sanktnikolais · 4 years

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What Keeps You Up At Night

A/N: one last writing before I disappear for quite a long time. Or idk maybe i’ll be back again soon, but it’s burnt out season these days. No more will to write and live HAHAKLDHFS so have this mess of neighbors au, and i might still write more of this in this au, maybe not just too soon. ;-;

Happy Halloween, ig.

Word count: 2151

AO3

The first time Zoya had finally talked properly with her noisy, infuriating neighbor without them arguing was in the middle of the night.

The endless readings for her upcoming case had taken a toll on her for the past few days, and the sleep she got was not enough to make her last the next day without verbally murdering someone in the firm. Tonight was no different, but she decided to go to bed earlier, as the noises from next door were starting to get louder again, and she was tired of going over and trying to knock his door down. They had been arguing off every little mistake they could pinpoint and use it against each other.

When Zoya had moved in the apartment complex more two weeks ago, only the ones from across and by the end of the hall came to greet her, while the one next to hers was silent the whole time, and the rest of the day.

A firefighter, the other floor tenants had said, so he was gone most of the day.

She would've appreciated it at some point, if only if he didn't make so much noise at nights whenever he was back. It was during the third night that she finally had enough rage to stomp over the adjacent door and knock, only to end up with the firefighter arguing back that she, too, was too noisy every morning.

Those arguments only got frequent for the two weeks, until they got a notice from the landlord to settle things down otherwise they’d get evicted. They had both ‘compromised’ with each other’s time schedule, but it really just involved them glaring at each other and arguing very quietly. Though their interactions had gone much calmer in the past few days, there was still no denying about the bad blood between them.

Now Zoya was just about to retreat back to her bedroom when there was a loud scratching on her front door. It wasn't the type that one would suddenly hear but was gone after a moment. Instead it was continuous and hurried, as if someone or something was trying to get in.

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the time on her phone. 1:03. What the hell could it be at this time of the night?

The scratching continued as Zoya slowly approached the front door, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. She wasn't the type to believe in the supernatural, but who's to say it was impossible?

She stopped in front of the door, and then the scratching stopped. Coldness seemed to wash over her, the suddenness of the feeling making her shiver. Whatever it was may have left already, most likely a stray rat or something. But the sound was too loud for something as small as a rat. What if it was—

Zoya stopped her thoughts with a dark chuckle, feeling silly for even thinking about the impossible, though there was still no denying the slight fear in her chest. With a shake of her head, she took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole on her door.

There wasn't anyone outside.

She scoffed. Maybe the lack of sleep for the past week had made her imagination and hearing tacky.

"Being scared of mere sounds now, huh, Nazyalensky?" she mumbled to herself, stepping away from the door.

Only to stop when another sound came from the other side. A soft cry.

By this time, her fear was replaced by annoyance, and Zoya just turned the lights on, grabbed at the knob, and opened the door.

As expected, there wasn't any soul outside. Even the hall was dim and quiet—except for the occasional ones coming from the infuriating firefighter's slightly open door—when she turned to look in both directions, the small light by the end made it possible to see. Otherwise, the floor was empty.

She eyed the next door with a frown, shaking her head. Was he so confident to leave it open during this time of the night?

Then a thought came to her head. If she ever caught Lantsov trying to play a prank on her in the middle of the night, she would definitely not hesitate to strangle him on the spot. She shook her head, feeling annoyed with both herself and whatever it was that made the scratching sound. It surely wasted her time to check when she was supposed to be dozing off already.

She stepped back, ready to close the door, when she felt something brush past her ankle.

It was enough for a yelp to erupt from her mouth and jump, almost crashing over to her door.

Zoya quickly recovered and whirled around, expecting to see something scary, probably a ghost that had finally decided to become visible to her or anything supernatural that she's read and watched far too many times.

What she didn't expect was an adorable fluff of golden fur poised down on the floor as if it were trying to get her to play.

She gaped at the dog, turning back to the hall and expecting its owner to come over to get him. But no one came.

A soft whine made her turn back to the dog. It was now sitting up, head inclined to the side with a curious look on its face. If this was some other time, Zoya knew she would've melted on the sight. But now there was only confusion and bewilderment in her mind.

The dog couldn't be any older than several months. It was still a bit small to be an adult Retriever, but definitely not a puppy anymore.

She crouched down in level with it, and the dog immediately got up to run towards her. It only took a blink before it was jumping to her with an excited bark, and Zoya caught the dog mid-air.

The Retriever started attacking her with kisses, and the annoyance she was feeling just now disappeared completely. She laughed lightly when the dog's tail started to wag too vigorously as she stood up.

"Where did you come from?" Zoya asked, giving its head a ruffle. There was small ringings coming from the bell on its collar, and she turned the tag over. Sturmhond. "Storm dog, huh?" She leaned back to look at the golden fluff. It reached over to lick at her nose, causing a chuckle from her. "Who in the world would name you like that?"

There was a squeak of a door being opened. "Sturmhond?" a deep voice echoed in the hallway, followed by rushed footsteps. "Sturm—"

Zoya turned around to Lantsov stop by her door, already in his black shirt that had a printed Ravka Fire Protection on the upper left.

The firefighter’s stare at her lingered for a second too long before he was blinking and averting his eyes from her and to the bundle of golden fur in her arms. "Sturmhond!" His hazel eyes that had a deep look of worry before suddenly lit up when they landed on the dog.

The dog—Sturmhond—immediately squirmed off her arms and leaped over to him.

He caught him with a laugh. "Saints, there you are," he said in obvious relief. He gave the dog a ruffle on the head as Sturmhond bombarded his cheek with kisses. After a moment, he turned to her with a small wince. "I'm sorry about that, I only got him several days ago from the alley at the back and he's still trying to adjust—" He seemed to realize his own blabbing and he shook himself. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

Zoya raised an eyebrow. Did he just apologize to her? “I think this is the first time I heard you apologize, Lantsov," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. “You ought to close your door if you don’t want him escaping your place.”

The firefighter frowned. “It was closed, alright?”

Zoya raised a brow at him. “Oh, really, now?” she said. “How come he got to my door?”

“I don’t know,” he said, a tad bit too sharply, and he seemed to realize his tone. “Maybe I did leave the door open. My shifts have been longer these days, I really would tend to forget a lot."

She fought a smile on her lips as she took in this whole new character of her neighbor. He was so far from the one that she had been arguing for the past two weeks. “Is this character development? You are awfully different today.”

Lantsov only rolled his eyes as he adjusted the dog in his arms. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said sarcastically. Then he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Taking care of this one probably did the trick.”

Zoya made a surprised huff. It was the first time they had talked without wanting to verbally murder one another, and it was a new thing to see. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Anyway, my shift starts in about ten minutes and it won’t end until lunch I think,” he said with an amused smile, “at least I don’t have to endure your loudness at eight in the morning.”

She erased her previous thought. Still the infuriating and idiotic neighbor. “For once, I thought you actually had some character development, Lantsov.”

Nikolai laughed, and Zoya felt the strange ease in the air that was never there before. “Only for you, dear,” he said. “Well, then. I have to go—”

He was cut off when Sturmhond suddenly jumped off from his arms and padded his way inside Zoya’s apartment, hiding behind her legs. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the dog behind her. It seemed to have shrunk smaller as Sturmhond continued to hide.

“Sturmhond. Come on, buddy, I have to go,” he said gently, bracing his hands on his knees to crouch lower. He tried to call the dog once more, but Sturmhond didn’t budge. He sighed and stood up, checking his watch. “He’s still having issues with leaving. He thinks he’s going to get abandoned again.” Then he winced, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. “Can I, uh, ask for a favor?”

She narrowed her eyes, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. The night was definitely going on a weird turn. “Nikolai Lantsov is asking a favor from me?”

His wince only worsened. “I know, but it’s all because I forgot to call my friend that’s supposed to take Sturmhond tonight,” he said, rubbing at his face. He looked up after a moment, a defeated look on his face. “Can you watch over him?”

Zoya raised an eyebrow, and before she could reply, he quickly added, “I will pay for the dog sitting, don’t worry.” He looked past her and down to the dog hiding behind her. He had a worried crease between his brows, and for once, his usual smug expression was gone and replaced by a genuine emotion she never saw him have before. “He really looks like he doesn’t want to leave tonight.”

Her frown got deeper as she contemplated the firefighter’s request. He hadn’t been the most likeable person on their floor, at least for her, and she had every right to say no. But what she couldn’t understand was her lack of resistance over the favor and the sudden urge to help him.

She sighed. “Fine, I can watch over him,” she said even before she could think of changing her mind. Then with much more surety, she added, “I’m on a day off tomorrow, anyway.”

His eyes lit up like a child being allowed to play outside. “Really?”

“He seems behaved enough. And I’m sure he’s much quieter than you.”

To her surprise, Nikolai laughed, and her stomach did a weird flip at that. “He definitely is quieter than me. And he sleeps a lot too, would pass out anywhere he lays down.”

“My rate is not cheap, though.”

“I don’t mind.” He chuckled, the expression in his eyes was soft when he said, “Thank you.”

Zoya blinked, the direction of the night catching her completely off guard. It was only then that he looked much better with a smile on his face rather than the frown he always had every time they argue, and his eyes were definitely much warmer up close.

Lantsov was indeed quite a looker.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, covering them up with a glare on the blond. “Don’t thank me yet, I am planning to use this favor against you.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Of course, anything for you, Nazyalensky.”

Oh, she still hated him for having a sudden effect on her.

She’ll charge him off big time for dog sitting.

---

But when he came to pick the dog up much later in the afternoon, Zoya hadn’t charged him off with anything.

#zoyalai #king of scars #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #wow i am able to write again #idk man #firefighter nik with a dog #and lawyer zoya ig #it's really burnt out this time #hope i recover soon lmao #my writing #happy halloween #;-;

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silverlightqueen · 5 years

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Ruin My Life - Part 9

RML masterlist

(fratboy!Jimin - lots and lots of A N G ST & some fluff)

Summary - y/n, Mija, Chen and Jackson experience their most eventful night out yet ft. a certain jung hoseok👀 as well as angry Eunwoo, angry Jimin and shady jeongyeon

Word Count - 9.8k+

Warnings - no smut in this one, (but trust me, i’ll make up for that in the next chapter👀) um violence ig, mention of blood, discussion of alcohol, discussion of sex, bad language, that’s it ig

a/n: hey y’all ! I think this is gonna be the penultimate part which is like totally breaking my heart rn bc ruin my life is my baby :( lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist x

silverlightqueen masterlist

taglist💕: @keylowmonie @jennafromhome @btrombley13 @parkjammys @chubschimmine @flowingwiththewater @magicalpjm @sakurauchiha2018 @kyrie1707 @simonemothjensen @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @p-yoon @wtfcalumthomas

‘y/n, I’m gonna beat your ass one of these days, hurry the fuck up!’ Mija screams from the living room. ‘Sorry, I’m coming!’ I shout back, rushing around my room like a madwoman, looking for my phone. As soon as I find it, in my makeup bag for some reason, I turn off my music and sprint (as best as one can in heels) into the living room. ‘I’m sorry, I really am. I had to do a last-minute outfit change because the heels that go with the other outfit are at the ASP house,’ I say, Jackson grinning as Mija rolls her eyes and Chen raises an eyebrow. ‘Jimin or Tae’s room?’ Jackson asks, and I swat at him, the boy laughing maniacally as he ducks away from my hand. ‘I prefer this outfit anyway. Makes your ass look bigger,’ Chen says, and I grin, doing a twirl. I’m dressed in ripped blue skinny jeans with a black fluffy bralet, black fluffy heels on my feet and some gold clips in my hair, a gold necklace with the pendant resting between my collarbones. I’m also wearing Jimin’s ring, and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. It’s pretty and has sentimental value, and I’m so used to wearing it now that my hand feels wrong without it.

‘Won’t you get cold when we leave?’ Mija asks, dressed more sensibly than I am, in a pair of black ripped jeans and long-sleeved nude bodysuit, black heels on her feet and a black denim jacket tied at her waist. ‘Chen’s wearing a jacket that matches my outfit perfectly,’ I say, Chen grinning as he pulls on his black bomber over his dark blue t-shirt and black jeans; a simple outfit, but effective, making him look handsome and classy. ‘Why can’t you wear jackets that match my outfit, so I don’t have to take one?’ Mija complains to Jackson, who’s dressed top-to-toe in Fendi; jeans, shirt, shoes, scarf, jewellery, hat, even socks (god knows how he affords it all, but damn, does he look good in it). ‘Because you’re an independent woman who doesn’t need to rely on her man for a jacket,’ Jackson says, Mija obviously liking his answer, the smug look on her face a clear indication, and Chen and I exchange an amused glance.

‘Anyway, I’ve literally sobered up from pre-drinks because it’s 1am, so we need to get to the bar asap. I wanna get our usual booth and get some more drinks down me,’ Mija says, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the door. Chen locks the apartment behind us, Mija and I giggling as we stumble down the corridor towards the lift, the boys following behind. We’re only waiting for a minute or two for the Uber to arrive, and the whole time, Mija and I do stupid tiktok dances, still slightly tipsy, Jackson and Chen watching us in amusement. The drive to the bar flies by as usual, Chen making conversation with the driver as the three of us take selfies and pictures of each other in the back of the car. When we arrive, Chen and Jackson flash their VIP cards like always, and again, we ignore the annoyed shouting from the people waiting in the queue as we enter the bar. It’s packed, the smell of alcohol strong on the air, the heavy bass of the song currently playing nearly shaking the floor. Jackson wraps an arm around Mija’s waist, pulling her close to his side, as Chen grabs hold of my hand, the four of us making our way over to our usual booth. The boys go to get drinks, eight Jager bombs and four vodka cokes.

‘The ASP boys are here,’ Mija says over the music, and I roll my eyes. ‘I’m not surprised. Are they with LSG?’ I ask, not wanting to look myself. ‘Yep. Nayeon’s all up JK. Ooh, Sana and Joon are dancing together. Oh, God, I think I can see Dahyun and Yoongi dancing together as well. Chungae’s here, dancing with Jeongyeon… and Jimin. Oh, my God, is that Tzuyu grinding on Tae? Damn, ASP and LSG are literally the university sluts,’ Mija says drily, and I supress a laugh. ‘Don’t slut shame,’ I say. ‘I’m not. I’m one myself, it’s totally fine,’ Mija says, and I grin at her. ‘Are we finding you a man tonight? And not one that’s friends with your ex, or your ex?’ she asks, and I slap her lightly on the arm. ‘No, I don’t want a man. I’m happy to spend the night with you guys,’ I say. ‘You should at least dance with a guy. Make Park jealous,’ she says with a mischievous glint in her eye. ‘That means I care,’ I begin. ‘You do care,’ she interjects, but I carry on as though she never spoke; ‘And it’s not like he cares anyway. He wouldn’t be jealous.’ ‘Judging by his reaction to you and Tae, I think he would be,’ Mija says drily, and I roll my eyes. ‘Tae told me he’s over it. He said he’s seen Jeongyeon at the frat loads in the past couple weeks,’ I say. ‘Yeah, right, I bet Tae’s just saying that to make you get into bed with him again,’ Mija says.

Tae and I have spent a lot of time together since we slept together, two weeks ago today. I’ve seen a lot of all the ASP boys actually (except for Jimin, and Hoseok – I haven’t seen him for a while actually), what with the party planning and all. We all went on a road trip to get the decorations; on the way there, I was in Joon’s car with him, Jungkook, Mija and Jackson, and on the way back, I was in Chen’s car with him, Jin, Taehyung and Yoongi. We stopped for lunch while we were there, and I really enjoyed it; I think this is the beginning of a new friendship group. Tae, Yoongi, JK and Joon have showed up several times to our apartment with no warning, wanting to watch a movie or something together, and Tae and I have been for coffee together between lectures and seminars a few times. They’re all urging me to accept one of their offers for the end-of-year party, because it’s in three weeks’ time and they want plenty of notice. The rager is also in two weeks and everyone’s been talking about it; what they’re wearing, who they’re bringing, what they’re planning on drinking. It’s the talk of the university. Part of me is dreading it, but it’s always amazing, possibly the messiest night of my year every time. I’m always allowed to sleep over, so Mija and I will be getting ready there beforehand, helping to set up and then sleeping on a blow-up bed in Joon’s room. Chen and Jackson are both invited too, despite being KPN boys, and the boys have also said that Jackson, Chen and Mija can all come to the end-of-year party, even if they’re not anyone’s date (the only term is that they’ll have to share a meal with someone else because the catering company won’t have enough food for three extra people).

Jackson and Chen arrive back with our drinks, the four of us downing our Jager bombs in quick succession, before sipping on our vodka cokes. We stay seated for a while, just drinking and chatting, getting progressively more and more tipsy. At points, Joon, Tae, JK, Jin and Yoongi all come over to say hi, and they’re all given very enthusiastic greetings from the four of us. After an hour or so, the time on my phone reading 2.27, I get up to get some more drinks, Mija and Chen deep in conversation about what they think their favourite K-pop band BTS’ next comeback will be like and Jackson trying to type out a text to his mum to let her know he’s safe and fine. I take Jackson’s VIP card with me, and so I reach the front of the bar quickly, placing my order for several shots and drinks, and wait patiently, the bartender telling me it might be a while due to them running out of Red Bull, but assuring me one of the employees has run to the local supermarket to get some more and will be back any moment now. I sit on a barstool, in my own little world, thinking about what colour dress I’m planning on wearing when Mija and Jackson get married, and it isn’t until I feel a big hand appear on my back that I’m aware of my surroundings once more. I turn to see the owner of the hand, and am surprised to see Hoseok’s handsome face for the first time in a long time.

‘Hobi!’ I exclaim, jumping up and throwing my arms around him, and he lets out a laugh into my ear, hugging me back. ‘So I see you’re making appearances again, y/n,’ Hoseok says amusedly, and I roll my eyes, taking my seat as he sits down beside me. ‘So are you, it seems. Where have you been?’ I ask, and his eyes sparkle. ‘Why? Missed me?’ he asks. ‘Yes, now stop acting coy, what happened to you?’ I ask. ‘I haven’t been too well, so I didn’t think it was best that I went out. Basically, I was responsible for the first time in my life,’ he says, both of us laughing together. ‘What do you want to drink?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s fine, I’ll get my own,’ he says, and I hold up the VIP card. ‘Why pay when I can get you one for free?’ I say, and he grins. ‘Sis, you get more and more boujee every time I see you. Getting fucked in diamond chokers, VIP card for the best bar in the area,’ he jokes, and I let out a giggle. A giggle. What’s wrong with me? ‘I’ll have a double vodka and coke,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Okay, we getting drunk drunk tonight, huh?’ I say, and he lets out a laugh. ‘Why not? It’s my first time out in a while, I deserve it,’ he says, just as the bartender brings over the Jager bombs. ‘Can I have two more of these, and another double vodka coke please?’ I ask, the bartender smiling as he nods. This guy’s seen enough of me the past few weeks, I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten sick of me, but I’m still treated to slices of fruit or umbrellas in my drinks from time to time, and a big smile every time I make an order. He brings over the other two Jager bombs, Hoseok and I doing two each whilst waiting for the bartender to bring over the rest of our drinks. Once he’s brought over five vodka cokes, one for Hoseok and one each for us guys, Hoseok picks up three and I pick up two, the boy helping me to carry them back over to our booth.

Chen, Mija and Jackson greet Hoseok warmly, probably just because he’s got their drinks, and once he’s said hello to all of them, he turns back to me. ‘Hey, you know that thing we’re having? That party? Will you be my date?’ he says, and I actually laugh aloud. ‘You’re the sixth person to ask me, Hoseok,’ I say, his mouth falling open. ‘You’re joking?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘But I’ll consider your offer,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Much appreciated. You wanna dance?’ he offers, and I raise an eyebrow, the boys holding two hands in the air. ‘Hey, listen, Jimin’s moved on and so have you. It’s totally fine. And anyway, I promise you, I just wanna dance. I’m not expecting it to end like it did with you and Taehyung,’ he says amusedly, and my mouth falls open. ‘So everyone knows about that, huh?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Well, a lot of us heard you guys on the actual night, and it got around to the rest of us. I had the pleasure of hearing him dicking you down against the wall so Jimin could hear,’ he grins, and I cover my face in embarrassment. ‘If I say I’ll dance with you, will you stop talking?’ I say, and he bursts out laughing. ‘Come on,’ he says, gently grabbing my wrist and leading me to the dance floor. We dance together for a while, keeping it very PG, but as the alcohol gets to my head, I start to realise three things; the first is how good-looking Hoseok is, which is very, by the way. His dark hair is swept back from his forehead, revealing his clear and tan face, and his heart-shaped lips and bright, sparkling eyes only add to the appeal. The second thing I notice is how good of a dancer is. The man can move. His hips sway deliciously smoothly, his movements practically dripping with rhythm and flow. The third thing I notice is how tight his clothes are, the black top displaying his amazing figure, the toned muscles and the slim waist, and his black jeans show his thick thighs, the curves of his legs, the bulge of his crotch. Quite simply, the man, and everything about him, is amazing. I manage to restrain myself for quite a long time. And then the music changes.

A slow RnB track begins to float out of the speakers, the dancers around us holding each other close, whining and grinding to no end. Hoseok gives me an amused look, obviously wondering how far I’m willing to take this, and if I were sober, this is where I’d go sit back down. But I’m not. So I don’t. Instead, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, hands resting on his strong back, and hold him close, the boy grinning to himself as his arms snake around my waist, pulling me even closer. We dance slowly and sensually, his expensive aftershave flooding my senses, as I try to avoid eye contact, knowing I’ll probably do something stupid if I get lost in those shiny eyes of his. After a few songs, I realise my back is now pressed against his front, and I don’t quite remember how it happened. I can feel everything, his dick pressed firmly against my ass as he rolls his hips gently towards me, making my panties feel wetter and wetter by the second. After a while, I lose all inhibition and begin rolling my hips to move in time with his, meeting his grinds with slow ones of my own.

‘Fuck, y/n, you’ve got me half-hard in a fucking bar,’ he whispers into my ear, and I have to hold back a whimper at his words. I turn to face him, my eyes locking with his, and he sighs after a few moments. ‘You’re gone, aren’t you?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m tipsy. Not too drunk,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘Your eyes are so dilated right now, y/n,’ he says, and I blink. ‘That happens when you’re looking at someone you’re attracted to,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘And when you’re drunk. God, y/n, you got me half-hard in a bar, but you’re too fucking drunk that I’ll feel bad if I take you home now,’ he says, and I sigh, pouting. ‘Hoseok, I’m really not that drunk. I’m literally thinking straight, I can see fine, like I’m totally not drunk. A little tipsy, yes, but not drunk,’ I say, maybe downplaying it slightly. Admittedly, it’s probably not the best thing to do (have sex with another of my kind-of-ex’s best friends) but it’s not like it matters that much, right? What’s Jimin gonna do? Just get angry again? It’s not like he’s not fucking Jeongyeon anyway. It’s totally fine, we’ve both moved on. Hoseok watches me carefully before sighing. ‘Let’s go sit in your booth for a little while, and if you seem okay, then we’ll go back to my place? Okay? Because I really don’t like having sex with a girl when she’s drunk,’ he says, leading me back to the booth. ‘Why? Messy? Bad head?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘No, moron, because people’s morals and things are different when they’re drunk. I want her to be fully aware, fully willing. Not just down to fuck because she’s drunk,’ Hoseok says as we reach the booth. ‘Trust me,’ I say gently into his ear, ‘I’d be down even if I were stone-cold sober.’

I slide into the booth, Hoseok looking slightly flushed when he sits down beside me, and I supress a laugh at how his jeans are straining over his crotch. Bless him. ‘Having fun, you two?’ Mija asks amusedly, sat opposite us with her legs slung over Jackson’s lap, Chen sat beside me. The three of them seem to have sobered up, and are probably waiting for me to either come back with them or disappear home with someone else before they head back to mine and Mija’s apartment. ‘A bit too much, it seems, by the semi Hoseok’s showing off,’ Chen says drily, and Hoseok laughs, not embarrassed in the slightest. ‘What can I say? Your friend here is a tease,’ he says. ‘Why don’t you just call it a night and go back together?’ Jackson asks. ‘He thinks I’m too drunk,’ I say, the three of them looking at Hoseok in shock. ‘You think she’s drunk? Trust me, you’ll know drunk y/n when you see her, and this y/n is not even half way there. Sis would be passed out on the table if she were drunk,’ Mija says, and I pout. ‘I’m never that bad,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I have receipts, remember?’ she says, and I mutter a meek ‘never mind’ back at her.

‘Okay, I’d very much like to see these receipts sometime, but for now, shall we head back? If they say you’re not drunk, I believe them,’ Hoseok says, and I grin at him. ‘One more shot for the road,’ I say before calling over one the waiters, asking for a couple more shots. He brings them over moments later, and Hoseok and I down them. We both rise up from our seats, and I promise Mija that I’ll keep her updated and promise Chen that I’ll let him know if I need a lift or anything in the morning. But before we can even begin walking away from the booth, I feel a hand roughly grab my shoulder and turn me around. I nearly lose my balance, both Hoseok and Chen helping to hold me up, and once I’m steady, I look to see who it is, my blood running cold when my eyes land on Eunwoo’s angry ones, making me sober up instantly.

‘Don’t bother going back with this bitch, she’ll just leave you with blue balls,’ Eunwoo spits angrily, his frat brothers hanging around a few feet behind him. ‘You okay?’ Hoseok asks me, ignoring Eunwoo entirely, and I nod, turning to look at Jackson and Chen. ‘I thought you said he wasn’t coming here tonight,’ I say. ‘He wasn’t,’ Chen sighs tiredly, knowing it’s about to kick off. ‘Last minute change of plan, but I guess your little moles wouldn’t have known that, because they were too busy getting drunk at yours and Mija’s. I didn’t want to start on either of you for hanging with her, because it’s not that big of a deal, but the fact that you’re helping her avoid me, and hanging out with her over us is another thing all together,’ Eunwoo says angrily, directing his words to Chen and Jackson, both of them looking exasperated with their frat brother.

‘For God’s sake, Eunwoo, grow up. You’re starting a scene in the middle of a bar because your ego is hurt that your ex left you with blue balls, and you wonder why we’d rather hang out with y/n over you,’ Jackson says, twisting the knife further. ‘Why are you siding with her?’ he demands, voice rising. ‘Eunwoo, there aren’t any sides! You and her are exes, but it doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to be friends with her. She’s Jackson’s girlfriend’s best friend, for God’s sake. Do you want Jackson to cut off his girlfriend’s best friend? Stop being so ridiculous and grow up. We’re friends with both of you, we hang out with both of you. y/n doesn’t have an issue with it, so why do you?’ Chen says diplomatically, but Eunwoo’s too angry to listen to reason. ‘Because she’s not the type of person you should associate with. She’s a fucking bitch. ASP’s little bitch to be precise,’ Eunwoo says venomously, and Mija rises up from her seat angrily, Jackson following suit as Hoseok steps towards Eunwoo. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game insulting y/n like that, Eunwoo, so I’m going to ask you to walk away before you get any of us angrier than we already are,’ Hoseok says calmly, and Eunwoo laughs. ‘Or what? What are you gonna do?’ Eunwoo says in Hoseok’s face, a droplet of saliva landing on Hoseok’s face, and he wipes it off coolly, obviously trying to control his temper, because he looks scary calm right now. ‘Eunwoo, just leave us alone,’ I begin to say, but before I can say anything else, I spot Jimin storming towards us, the rest of ASP and the LSG girls following in his wake.

‘You were fucking pregnant? You were pregnant, and you didn’t fucking tell me?’ Jimin says angrily when he reaches us, Eunwoo suddenly moving the bottom of my list of problems. My head goes light at his words, my vision momentarily blurring, and I have to clutch onto Jackson’s forearm to steady myself. ‘I…’ I stutter, not knowing what to say, my heart practically beating out of my chest. ‘I don’t care what happened between us, y/n, but I would’ve thought you’d have at least told me, for fuck’s sake! You went and got an abortion and dealt with it all without speaking to me! What’s wrong with you?’ Jimin demands, angrier than I’ve ever seen him, and, over his shoulder, I can see Jeongyeon grinning maliciously. ‘y/n, that’s way out of line! You should’ve fucking told me! The sleeping with your ex, sleeping with Tae, nearly sleeping with Hoseok I can move past, but this is another thing entirely! I can’t believe you didn’t fucking tell me!’ Jimin says, my silence making him angrier and angrier.

‘Enough, Jimin, this isn’t the place,’ Chen says calmly, placing a gentle hand on Jimin’s chest, and Jimin pushes him off. ‘I wanna hear what she has to say for herself,’ Jimin says, and I don’t even know what to do or say, my mind racing but blank at the same time, shock having overtaken my body. ‘I didn’t…’ I begin to say, not even knowing what’s about to come out of my mouth. ‘Speak up,’ Jimin says neutrally. ‘I didn’t… I didn’t sleep with Eunwoo,’ I say quietly, wanting to kick myself for saying that. ‘Oh, good to know you’ve got at least some sense then,’ Jimin says. ‘I was right, she really is ASP’s bitch. The whole fucking frat’s passing her around,’ Eunwoo says to one of his frat brothers, purposely loud enough for us all to hear him. Hobi, Jimin, Jackson and Jungkook all go for him at the same time, but Mija beats them to it, landing a hard slap square on his cheek. He stands in shock for a moment before swinging for Mija, and Jackson grabs Mija’s arm, pulling her out of his reach just in time. Jimin takes his chance then, swinging for Eunwoo whilst the boy is distracted, and lands a punch under his jaw. Eunwoo takes a moment before swinging back for him, his fist landing on Jimin’s eye. It quickly becomes a fight, both of them landing punch after punch, and I look around at the boys, wanting one of them to intervene, unable to believe my eyes. I step forward to stop it and Chen grabs hold of me. ‘Don’t be stupid, y/n, you can’t stop them,’ he says, before stepping around me to stop it himself.

‘Gosh, y/n, you should be careful. Wouldn’t want the baby to get hurt, would we?’ Jeongyeon says, a few of her minions laughing along with her, the other LSG girls that I’m friends with staying silent. I ignore her, knowing she’s not worth it, continuing to watch as Chen and Jin attempt to pull Jimin and Eunwoo apart. ‘Surely you shouldn’t even be here, right? Pregnant women can’t drink, remember? Already a bad mother,’ she continues, her minions indulging her with their annoyingly high-pitched laughter. ‘Oh, look at that. Her bump is showing,’ Jeongyeon says, her and her minions dissolving into giggles, and it’s the last straw. All I can see is red when I turn to face her and pounce before anyone can stop me. The laughter on her face disappears quickly when she sees how angry I am, and she tries to shield herself, her attempts fruitless, because I manage to slap her across her face, hard, her makeup coming off onto my hand. ‘You fucking bitch!’ she shouts, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking it. I rake my nails across her face, hearing her scream, and I can’t help but feel satisfaction when I see blood blooming from where my nails cut her. She kicks out at me, her foot colliding with my shin, and I will myself not to let out a single noise as I elbow her in the boob, the other girl falling to the floor in pain.

It’s only when she hits the floor and I feel a pair of hands pulling me away from her that I come back to reality, wanting to hit myself for losing control and hurting someone like that. It’s not like she doesn’t deserve it, but I’m better than that. I wonder what’s going on now, but when my eyes land on the scene around me, what I see is completely unexpected. Nearly all of the boys are either fighting, or trying to break up a fight. Quite simply, a brawl has broken out. I turn to see who’s hands are on me, and see Sana pulling me away. And then security appears, dozens of burly men and women breaking us apart and leading us all away from the exit, towards the back of the bar. The woman holding onto me isn’t gentle in the slightest, practically dragging me through the bar, and they push us all into one big room that looks like it was once used as a kitchen. ‘The police are on their way. Don’t even think about starting another fight,’ one security guard says, all of us panicking at the mention of the police. ‘It’s fine,’ Chen says, ‘I’ll call my dad. He’ll sort this out, we’re not going with the police.’

An hour later, I’m sat in the police station at a table in a typical questioning room opposite a kind-eyed male police officer, a recording device sat on the table between us. He’s already explained all my rights to me and is about to start asking me questions. Some of the others are also being questioned, and the rest of us are sat in a holding cell. The bar staff watched the CCTV back and pointed out which of us were involved, and so all the ASP and KPN boys are here, as well as Mija, Jeongyeon and Sana, all the other LSG girls being let off. ‘So, y/n, do you want to explain to me what happened, and the lead up to what happened?’ the police officer says. ‘Um, the whole lead up? Because it’s a long story,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘I have all night. Go ahead, y/n,’ he says, and I sigh.

‘Um, okay, I’ll try to keep it short if I can. Basically, I used to date Eunwoo in freshman and sophomore year. Then I broke up with him because he started to become abusive, and I started sleeping with Jimin. Not dating, just sleeping with him. But then I caught feelings and I cut him off. A couple months ago, we ended up sleeping together again, and then the second time we slept together, the condom broke, so I was scared I was pregnant. But I took a morning after pill and did some pregnancy tests, and I wasn’t, so it was fine. And I got my period as well. Then a couple nights later, we went out for dinner, but we got a call that a party had started back at his frat. So we went back to help kick people out and clean up, but while I was cleaning up, he went and slept with Jeongyeon in his room. I didn’t know, but Namjoon did, and he didn’t want to have to break it to me, so he offered for me to sleep in his room, so I did. I found out the next morning when I saw her leaving his room, and then I cut him off and fell into a complete depression. Him and his friends were blowing up my phone, showing up to my apartment, waiting outside my lectures, so I went to extreme lengths to hide from them all. Meanwhile, I found out that I actually was pregnant and went and got an abortion with Mija, but one of Jeongyeon’s sorority sisters was there doing work experience. Anyway, then one night, after around a month, I saw him going up to my apartment just as I was, so I slept in the library to avoid speaking to him. Mija found me the next morning, and told me to just face him, so I did. I went to confront him, but ended up confessing my feelings to him. He horribly rejected me, and I ended up falling into an even worse depression. His friends were still blowing up my phone, but he wasn’t, and then it got out to our whole university what had happened, so everyone was trying to get hold of me to either see if I was okay or find out the gossip. So I hid in my bedroom for an entire week. Then Mija intervened, said I needed to get my life together, and made me sort myself out so we could go out that night. We went to a bar and I saw Chen and ended up catching up with him when Mija went home with Jackson. Then Eunwoo, my ex, appeared, and I was drunk and stupid and ended up going back to his but chickened out while he was in the toilet and Chen helped me escape the frat. He took me to spend the night with Namjoon. Then, two weeks after that, I went to the bar again with Mija, Jackson and Chen, and ended up going home with Jimin’s friend, Taehyung. Then, fast forward to tonight, I nearly went home with another of Jimin’s friends, Hoseok, but Eunwoo appeared and started shouting at Chen and Jackson for being friends with me, because they’re in the same frat, and called me ASP’s bitch. Then Hoseok told him to leave but before anything else could happen, Jimin appeared and started shouting at me for not telling him I was pregnant, meaning that Jeongyeon’s friend must have told him. I was in shock, I didn’t know what to do, and he also brought up me going home with Eunwoo and Taehyung, and nearly doing the same with Hoseok. I told him I didn’t sleep with Eunwoo, and then Eunwoo said again that I’m ASP’s bitch and said I’m getting passed around the whole frat. Mija slapped him, and he went to hit Mija back, but Jackson pulled her out of his way. Then Jimin went for him and them two started fighting. Then Jeongyeon started saying to me that I should be careful because I’m pregnant, and shouldn’t be drinking, and that my bump is showing, and I lost it at that because I know full well that I do not have a stomach that looks like a baby bump, so I went for her. I admit, I did hit her first, and we were going at it for a bit before Sana pulled me away from her. Then security appeared and dragged us into the back, and you know the rest,’ I say, taking a deep breath at the end.

Saying it like that makes me realise just how insane my life has been. It’s been one thing after another; pregnancies, sex, exes, feelings, rejections, mental breakdowns, interventions, new friends, old friends, ex friends. My life’s been like a Bollywood drama or a fanfiction or something. ‘Right,’ the police officer says, sighing, ‘that was a long story, and I can tell that that’s just the summarised version. At the moment, it seems as though it was nothing too serious, but we will have to ask Jeongyeon if she wants to press charges against you for assault, which she very well may be able to. As for her friend who exposed your pregnancy and abortion, she’s broken the Hippocratic oath and so that must go on her criminal record. So if you can give us her name and we’ll look into it. I also don’t think there’s much we can do about the abuse from Eunwoo as it was two years ago, and I doubt you have evidence to prove it. We might believe you, but we have to have solid fact to prove it’ he says. ‘Yeah, I don’t want to do anything with Eunwoo, but I’ll give you the details about Jeongyeon’s friend,’ I say, and he nods as I note down Chungae’s details for him. ‘Thank you, y/n, I’ll take you back to the holding cell with your friends now,’ he says, and I nod, rising up from my seat. He leads me through the police station, back into the holding cell, and doesn’t bother locking it. None of us are stupid enough to start trouble in a police station. The ASP boys, Mija, Jackson and Chen sit in the middle of cell, the rest of the KPN boys on one side, Jeongyeon and Sana on the other with Jimin sat a couple feet away from them, alone. I look around, and decide I’m going to be the bigger person.

My friends watch in confusion as I walk over to Jeongyeon and Sana, the latter giving the former a stern talking to, it seems. ‘Hi, Sana. Um, Jeongyeon, I just wanted to apologise for going for you like that. It was wrong of me,’ I say, and she looks up at me. ‘If you’re apologising to stop me from pressing charges, you can think again,’ she says spitefully, and I sigh internally, knowing this will go onto my criminal record now. Sana elbows her, visibly annoyed, and I hold back a laugh. ‘That’s not why I’m apologising. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do,’ I say, and she rolls her eyes. She looks at Sana, who looks at her expectantly, before sighing defeatedly. ‘I accept your apology,’ she says, Sana obviously waiting for more. ‘And I’m sorry for telling Jimin about your pregnancy and abortion,’ she says, Sana still waiting for more. ‘And being a bitch to you in the bar about it,’ she says, Sana still looking at her expectantly. ‘And I’m not gonna press charges,’ she says, Sana smiling at me serenely. ‘Apology accepted. Let’s agree to leave each other alone,’ I say, holding out a hand, and she nods, shaking it.

And then I join Jimin, sitting down on the bench beside him. We both sit in silence for a few moments, before he speaks. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks quietly, head in his hands, and I let out a humourless laugh. ‘You didn’t have a right to know.’ ‘I know, but… I didn’t think you’d go through that yourself. I thought you’d come to me. I’m not angry because you didn’t tell me; I’m angry because you suffered alone when you didn’t have to,’ he says. ‘I didn’t suffer. And I had Mija,’ I say. ‘But I thought you’d want me with you,’ he says quietly. ‘I did. I did want you with me. But you made your feelings towards me clear. You can’t be angry now,’ I reply, and he sighs. ‘y/n, I… I lied,’ he says, and I laugh humourlessly again. ‘What about this time?’ ‘My feelings. I did like you. I do like you. I more than like you. It’s just difficult,’ he says, and I scoff.

‘What’s so difficult about this, Jimin? We’re not Romeo and Juliet, or Cathy and Heathcliff, or Tristan and Isolde, or Jack and Rose, or Hamlet and Ophelia, or Gatsby and Daisy,’ I say. ‘I don’t know how the majority of those people are, but I get the gist. It’s not even us, y/n, it’s me. I want to be with you, of course I do. It’s just… I don’t think I’m capable of being loyal to you, and I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to break your heart. You deserve better than someone who can’t be loyal to you, who can’t love you completely,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry, Jimin, but that’s such a cop-out. How can you claim you want to be with me, if you don’t even like me enough to be loyal?’ I say, and he shakes his head, frustrated. ‘No, no, it’s coming out wrong. I mean… I mean that I want to be with you, and I could be with you, and the chances are that I would be loyal to you, because to me, you’re the only girl in the world, y/n. I’m just scared that that might change one day. I don’t want it to, but what if it does? I don’t want to hurt you, you deserve more than that, more than me,’ he says, head still in his hands. ‘Then that happens. That’s what love is, Jimin. It’s unpredictable and it can be fickle, and if our love changes, then that’s okay. But for now, you… like me, and I like you. That’s all that matters, right?’ I say, and he looks at me for the first time.

His eyes are rimmed with red and his hair is a dishevelled and fluffy mess, eyes and cheeks puffy. He also has a black eye coming, as well as a split lip and a cut on his cheekbone. ‘I guess. I never thought about it like that,’ he says. ‘Of course you didn’t,’ I say quietly with a soft smile. ‘I’m just so scared,’ he says, and I take his hand in mine. ‘So am I, Jimin, terrified, in fact. But it’s okay,’ I say, and he smiles. A few seconds later, the smile falls from his face and he pulls his hand from mine. ‘I… you know the thing with me and Jeongyeon?’ he says, and the smile falls from my face too at that. ‘Yeah,’ I say hesitantly. ‘It wasn’t true. I said it to try and get you to move on from me,’ he says. ‘Don’t lie to me. I saw her leaving your room wearing your clothes,’ I say, and his head whips up, confusion etched across his face. ‘Wait, what?’ he says. ‘I saw her, leaving your room, wearing your clothes, the morning after we went for dinner,’ I say again, slowly.

‘But… we didn’t sleep together. She left. Honestly. I went up to my room to check no one was in there, while we were tidying up, and she followed me up. She tried to get me into bed, but I rejected her, and she confronted me, asking me if you and I were together. I told her, no, we’re not together, but we’re fucking. And she went mad. We argued for ages. Then, she left, or so I thought, and when I went looking for you around the frat, I saw Chungae and asked her if she’d seen you. She said she saw you go home, and I couldn’t find my phone to text you, so I just went to bed, thinking I’d speak to you in the morning when I found my phone. Then, I was alone in bed when I woke up. The last time I saw her was when she left my room after our argument,’ he says. ‘But, Jimin, I heard you talking to her in the morning,’ I say, sceptical about his story. ‘y/n, when I woke up, I was alone. I must have been talking in my sleep or something,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, still suspicious.

‘Jeongyeon,’ he calls, the girl turning to look at us. ‘Did you come sleep in my room the night of that party, when we argued?’ he asks, and she shakes her head, looking puzzled. ‘I saw you coming out of his room in the morning, wearing his clothes, and you were speaking to him when I walked past his room,’ I say, and realisation is etched across her face. ‘I ended up sleeping with Jongho, the junior, and I was wearing his clothes. I went into Jimin’s room because I couldn’t find my phone and thought I might have left it there. He was saying your name in his sleep, and I said, ‘no, idiot, it’s me, not your girlfriend’ but he was asleep, so he didn’t reply. I ended up finding his phone, so I left it on his bedside table, and I eventually found mine in the kitchen. But no, I didn’t sleep in your room. What do you think I am?’ she says indignantly before turning away from us.

‘See? I promise, I didn’t sleep with her. Not once. Not since I slept with you again. I haven’t slept with anyone since then,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Tae told me he saw Jeongyeon at the frat a lot,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘The only time I called her over was after you slept with Tae, because I was angry, and I wanted revenge, but you left before she even arrived, so I just sent her straight back home. All the other times, she just showed up, probably to see Jongho,’ he says. I want to believe him, but I’m still slightly suspicious. ‘Please, y/n, you have to believe me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I promise. It’s only you for me. I could never have slept with anyone else,’ he says, and there is true sincerity in his eyes, and an openness I’ve never seen before. This is him putting down his walls and letting me in. ‘I believe you,’ I say quietly, feeling slightly stupid for jumping to conclusions before. To be fair, it’s not like I didn’t have evidence, even if the evidence wasn’t what I thought it was. ‘You do?’ he asks, sounding as though he’s been told he won the lottery. ‘I do,’ I say.

‘Wait, hold up, did you just propose?’ Jackson asks, everyone looking at us. ‘No, idiot, ‘I do’ is in the marriage vows,’ I say, rolling my eyes. ‘Did you just get married?’ he asks, sounding genuinely stunned, and Mija hits him around the head. ‘Moron,’ she mutters, and I hold back to a laugh, turning to face Jimin once more. ‘So what does this mean? For us?’ he asks. ‘I still need you to show me. I need you to show me that I can trust you, that I can give you my heart. I know I said I want you to ruin my life, but I want you to ruin it for the better,’ I say, and he lets out a soft chuckle. ‘I don’t think you can ruin things for the better,’ he says, a soft smile on his plump lips. ‘You can. I want you to ruin it as it is, but so it turns out better in the end,’ I say, and he nods, still smiling. ‘I’ll try my best, for you, princess,’ he says.

‘Right, listen up, kids,’ a police officer says from the door of the cell. ‘None of you want to press charges and so that means we’re going to let you go. Just… in the future, please refrain from… well, everything that led you up to this point. Those of you that are above the limit will have to get taxis home, and we can provide those,’ the police officer says. We sort out the taxis, deciding that the KPN boys will get one seven-seater, the ASP boys will get one seven-seater, Jeongyeon and Sana will get one five-seater, and Chen, Jackson, Jimin, Mija and I will get another seven-seater with two drop-off points, Jimin saying he’ll walk up from KPN to his own frat. I end up being sat at the very back of the cab by myself, Jimin at the front and Mija, Jackson and Chen in the middle, and so I just think. I think about everything that’s happened over the past couple months. I think about what I’m going to do about Eunwoo. I think about how I owe Mija, Jackson and Chen for being such good friends. I think about what’s going to happen with Chungae. I think about Jeongyeon, and how our friendship turned so sour in sophomore year. And I think about Jimin. When we reach our apartment, Mija turns to look at me. ‘I’m gonna head back to KPN with Jackson. I think you and Jimin should stay together tonight,’ she says, loudly enough for the others to hear before whispering just to me, ‘tend to his wounds, talk it all out, but don’t sleep with him. It’s better to get these conversations done straight away, while it’s still fresh and still on your mind.’ ‘Thank you, Mija. Text me to keep me updated,’ I say, beginning to climb out of the taxi. ‘And you do the same!’ she calls after me. Jimin and I wave at the taxi as it drives away, Jackson sticking his head out of the taxi like a dog.

As soon as it’s out of view, Jimin and I head up to the apartment in a comfortable silence. As soon as I step in, I kick off my heels and check the time, the clock in our living room reading 5.03am. ‘God, look at the time,’ I say to Jimin, before turning to look at him. The police station cleaned his wounds and put plasters on them, but they don’t look very effective, blood already seeping through. ‘Right, I hate to be like a mafia wife from a shitty film, but let me sort out your injuries,’ I say, grabbing our makeshift first aid kit from the kitchen before leading him into my en suite, knowing that that’s where the best lighting is. I tap the side, Jimin jumping up onto it with a wince. ‘Was it just your face?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘He booted my shin, and I’m pretty sure it bled, and he smashed a glass on my arm, so there’s a cut there too,’ he says, my eyes widening. ‘When did this happen?’ I ask, rifling through our first aid kit. ‘When you were attacking Jeongyeon. Good job, by the way,’ he grins, and I laugh gently.

I roll up his jeans leg, the tight material just about going past where he was kicked on his lower shin, and the skin there has already begun to bruise. There’s a small cut with blood dried around it, and I will myself not to gag at the sight of it. I put some antiseptic onto a piece of tissue and gently clean the cut, Jimin only flinching very slightly. Once I’ve cleaned it, I put some cream on that reduces inflammation and swelling (to help the bruising go down), followed by a proper plaster (so thick, it’s almost a bandage). I move onto his arm, little gritty bits of glass still resting on his skin. I clean them away, being careful to make sure none of it goes onto the cut, before cleaning the cut itself and putting a plaster on that too. I move onto his face then, recleaning those cuts and replacing the plasters. I put the cream on the area around his eye too, noticing that the area under his eyebrow has already begun to swell.

As I’m doing so, he gently grabs my wrist, looking at my hand. ‘Is that… you wear my ring?’ he asks, and I nod shyly. ‘I… I feel naked without it. It’s like a piece of me now,’ I say, and he beams at me. ‘Do you wanna put some ice on your eye?’ I ask, changing the subject before I get embarrassed, and he shakes his head. ‘That cream feels like ice on my skin, it should be more than enough,’ he says, and I nod. ‘What about you?’ he asks, and I grin. ‘The bitch barely touched me,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘All she did was pull my hair and kick my shin. I’ll probably have a bruise on my shin, but it’s fine,’ I say, and he grins. ‘That’s my girl,’ he says, my heart swelling at his words.

‘Do you want some water or something?’ I ask, filling up the glass beside the sink, and he nods. I hand it to him, and he downs it in one. He fills it again, and hands it to me to drink and I smile at him before sipping it down, bit by bit. ‘Come on, you need to change out of those clothes,’ I say, leading him into the bedroom. ‘Have you got any clothes for me though?’ he asks. ‘I think so,’ I say, rifling around in my wardrobe. I find a pair of his boxers, black Calvins, from sophomore year, throwing them to him, and he chuckles as I root around for anything else of his. ‘These are fine, if you can’t find anything else,’ he says, and I roll my eyes jokingly. ‘Of course they are,’ I say, loving the laugh he gives in return.

I grab a pair of shorts and a strappy vest and go into the en suite, letting Jimin have his privacy to change, and giving myself that privacy too. It’s too soon to be naked in front of him again. I quickly change, wash off my makeup and brush through my hair, and when I go back into the bedroom, Jimin’s sat on the edge of the bed in just the boxers, his clothes neatly folded in the corner of the room. I try my hardest not to ogle his beautiful body, opting for putting my dirty clothes beside his. ‘Shall I sleep on the sofa, or…?’ he trails off, obviously not wanting to pressure me into anything, and I smile softly. ‘You can sleep in the bed, with me. But we’re just sleeping. That’s it,’ I say, and he nods with a smile. He climbs into bed, on the same side he always slept on, and I climb in beside him after replying to a couple texts from Namjoon and Mija letting me know they’re safe.

We just lie side-by-side, shoulders touching, and I listen to the sound of our breathing, the only sound I can hear. It’s like the rest of the world is silent, and it’s just us. ‘I wish I’d confessed my feelings for you sooner. I liked you in sophomore year, you know? I don’t know why I didn’t just tell you,’ he says, and I laugh gently, not having enough energy to feel surprised. ‘I know why. You’re not the relationships kinda guy,’ I say simply, and he chuckles. ‘I wasn’t the friends-with-benefits kinda guy. Until I met you. I wasn’t the ‘stay the morning after’ kinda guy. Until I met you. I wasn’t the ‘run out and get pregnancy tests and morning-after pills at the crack of dawn’ kinda guy. Until I met you. I’d never fallen in love with someone. Until I met you,’ he says gently. ‘Love?’ I ask. ‘Love,’ he confirms, hesitating before he continues.

‘I love you, y/n. I always have, baby, always. And I never even realised it. I’d been keeping an eye on you for a while, and when I heard you’d broken up with Eunwoo, I approached you at the first possible moment. I went over to you – do you remember that party? – I went over to you, offered you a drink, and you said ‘no, thanks, I’ve got one already’ and turned away from me. That was the moment,’ he says, and I look at him in confusion. ‘The moment I fell in love with you. The first girl to turn her back to me, to not care that it was me. And that’s one of the things that made me want you more than anything. You didn’t care who I was, didn’t care for my reputation. I didn’t have to live up to the image of ‘Park Jimin’ because you didn’t care who he was. So when I approached you again a couple hours later and we ended having a super deep and interesting conversation – the first one I’d ever had with a girl at a party – I knew you’d be part of my life. And then, we slept together, and it was amazing, the best sex I’d ever had. And I woke up in the morning, and you were gone. The first time a girl had ever done that to me. But you’d left a note, with your excuse of having a morning lecture, and your phone number. I was so eager to text you that I had to get one of the boys to hide my phone from me for a few hours. And then, every time I saw you, and we slept together, I fell for you even harder. And the mornings after didn’t help that at all,’ he admits, his words making me warm inside.

‘We wasted so much time,’ I say softly, and he nods. ‘I wish I hadn’t pushed you away. I wish I’d known, wish I’d understood that it was okay to feel uncertain, because that’s what love is. I don’t think I’ll ever fall out of love with you; it was just a possibility that scared me. And I guess I was scared that you’d do fall out of love with me. I’ve always felt like you could do better than me, but instead of being insecure about it, I should feel honoured that you’ve chosen me when there are so many others out there,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Don’t feel honoured, idiot. There’s no one better than you in my eyes. You’re the only one for me, Jimin,’ I say, and he smiles gently.

‘I’m sorry, y/n, for wasting so much time. I really am. But I hope I can make it up to you. I’m ready to give you my heart, and everything that comes with it. I’d give you anything if you asked for it,’ he says, and I smile. ‘We have all the time in the world. I’m not ready to be in an official relationship yet, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have time. We’re about to graduate, Jimin, not retire. We’ve got the rest of our lives. If that’s what you want, that is,’ I say. ‘Of course that’s what I want, y/n. I love you,’ he says. ‘I love you too, Park Jimin. Thank you for ruining my life,’ I say softly, turning to him and placing a hand on his cheek. He puts his hand over mine, his bright chocolate eyes locking with mine, and I wonder how I could’ve ever thought there was someone else out there for me, when the most amazing, the most beautiful, most kind, most sensitive and sweet, most generous and funny, most perfect boy in the world was there all along.

I started this story by saying that I love university. Everything about it. And that hasn’t changed, not a single bit. Yes, maybe the past couple months have been… rocky to say the least. But I wouldn’t change it for the world. Because I’ve learnt a lot. I’ve learnt about myself, how strong and resilient I can be when the situation calls for. I’ve learnt about friendship, and what a true friend is. Chen, Jackson, Namjoon, Jungkook, Yoongi, Jin, Taehyung, even Hoseok, all got into a fight in a bar to stick up for me. Mija, I’ve learnt, is my soul sister, my rock, the person who stuck by my side and supported me no matter what. And after seeing how my friends have been so kind and loyal, I’ve learnt that I should expect nothing less of a friend. I’ve learnt about cruelty, and how spiteful and vindictive humans can be, knowing Chungae’s degree will be a waste of time as she won’t be employed as a nurse for the rest of her life because of what she did to me. And I’ve learnt how far people will go for what they want, knowing Jeongyeon went to such lengths to get the boy she wanted, only for it to backfire in the end. I’ve learnt how nasty people can be, Eunwoo showing that some leopards never change their spots. And I’ve learnt about love.

Love is acceptance of someone, seeing their flaws and loving them anyway. Love is vulnerability, giving yourself to someone entirely, knowing it could hurt you in the end. Love is clarity, the realisation that everything else in your life was just the prologue to the story that is about to begin, now that you have someone to love. Love is mysterious and unpredictable, and no one will ever fully understand it. It looks with not only the eyes, but with the mind. Love will never be what you expect it to be, and it is untamed, never to be controlled or contained. Love is the little things; gentle touches, even gentler kisses, the look in your eye when you see them, smiles across a room, interlocked hands, words whispered across pillows, wanting to hear about their day just because it’s them, giving up your time for them, smiling at your phone when you see their name. Love is a union, looking in the same direction together rather than at each other. Love is not the excitement and the breathlessness and the passion and lying awake at night thinking of him. Love is what’s left after that, what’s left after the ‘being in love’ has burned away. Love is looking to the other person when someone tells a joke, to see the laughter they give, the smile on their face. Love doesn’t just begin and end, it’s not linear and structured; it’s always there, just lying asleep, waiting.

And for me, Jimin was the one the awakened it.

‘It was a pleasure, y/n,’ he whispers, pressing his lips to my forehead gently before moving back to look at me again, ‘it was a pleasure to ruin your life.’ And that’s how we fall asleep; lost in each other’s eyes.

#ficswithluv #bts #bts series #BTS jimin #jimin #park jimin #bts park jimin #park jimin smut #park jimin au #park jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #BTS au #bts angst #bts smut #bts imagines #smutcentralnet

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presleysfm · 4 years

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what’s crackin, pals? i’m ally, this is my very first rp, i’m so fucking excited and nervous at the same time, but hey, that’s life ig. anyways, i present to you miss presley , your local absent-minded professor. this intro is a mess and a half but i. gotta wear my admin pantsuit on the main and i can change into my player leggings and sweatshirt here.

SO the jamisons aren’t like. super Known in elmridge. but her mom’s side of the family, the tsuga’s, are. they own the local walgreen’s in downtown elmridge, three different car dealerships, and a pig farm on the property adjacent to presley’s own home.

she has an older sister, dakota, and two younger siblings, her brother kennedy and her sister tatum. her mom is the middle child of her own family, and presley has like eight aunts and uncles and almost two dozen cousins that all live in the skaneateles hills and elmridge. so. yeah. everyone knows a member of her family, and any troublemaking she tries to do will get back to them. and also everyone is constantly comparing her to her siblings and cousins.

her dad’s side of the family is russian and scottish (even though i said blackfoot in the sample app uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh just recently learned booboo stewart just deadass lied about that so thats no longer canon to presley), though her surname was adapted by her russian grandfather after fleeing the soviet union in an attempt to hide from the kgb. he is, to this day, incredibly paranoid. either way, it’s quite a bit smaller, with only her father and her aunt, no cousins. and yet its her grandfather that haunts her in school. great.

ANYWAYS enough about the family life lets get to presley herself

she’s a weirdo. she’s weird. she doesn’t “””””fit in”””””” and she doesn’t (dramatic pause) wannafitin.

because fitting in means being easily comparable and only identified with how good she is in relation to others hahahhahahahahahahhahahhahahha

she was literally the most cartoonishly goofy child you can imagine. like, she was already pretty cheerful and imaginative, but she also loved how much attention she would get by being weird and cute. it was a part she played very, very well. every day as a child she wore her big yellow rain boots and her duck hat, and she always tried to find the joy in everything. not for herself, of course, but for everyone else. to be associated with joy.

at home, she was too likely to be forgotten. she never wanted to be forgotten.

she used her same happy, imaginative self to try and befriend all of the big fish. she never much cared about earning respect, she mostly cared about earning affection.

always naturally bright, she discovered her knack for computer science at age eight. at first, she didn’t see what was so great about it, but then her older cousin explained to her that programming could be used to make everything from computer programs to video games. that’s where her imagination really shined through.

video games were like the ultimate games of make-believe, that you could make for others. either way, her parents were thrilled by her new fascination with coding, and assumed she would grow out of wanting to make games.

she.... didn’t, though. it’s still what she wants to do to this day. but her parents convinced her in high school that software engineering would be a better use of her time. so, she applied to software engineering at mit, and got accepted. her parents threw a congratulations party for her, and she couldn’t picture them being any more proud. she cried a whole lot that day.

the problem is that mit fucking SUCKED. it was just the definition of a grind, and it was hard for presley to pretend she was okay, to be her normal, cheerful self. sure, she’d had issues with anxiety before, but being so far from her family, so isolated from everyone, and so overwhelmed, she was just... drained. but her family was so proud of her, and all the big fish had gone off to their fancy programs, and here presley was, unable to take the heat.

(anxiety attack tw) the big fish know that presley ended up transferring to cornell after her first year. but they don’t know how bad it got. and presley intends to keep it that way. after all, nobody likes the wreck sobbing on the floor of the dorm bathroom; they all preferred the usual her, the self she was crying to cling to.

presley doesn’t wanna grow up because then that requires not only picking a career path but leaving her family again and she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to do that so.

uhhhhh her favorite things include m&ms, her rubber boots, fancy braids, video games, the new duck tales series, tik toks, and making people laugh.

speaking of tik toks, i spent twenty minutes finding some:

this is basically her tinder bio

mit is really testing her

pres when fucked up

she’d do this and like... idk how to feel abt it

anyways i have a pitiful amount of wanted connections here but like i kinda wanna plot on a case by case basis y’know????? lets get DEEP

#pond.intro #anxiety attack tw #its also marked in the pos #ANYWAYS I CAN'T WAIT TO LOVE ON Y'ALL

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fallintosanity · 5 years

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there was going to be plot but young ignis and young noctis decided to have panic attacks instead

to be fair, young gladio is also having a panic attack, he’s just being quieter about it so far

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17

Future Ignis stood at the little camp stove, chopping vegetables with a deftness that belied his inability to see, while beside him Gladio carved raw steaks into kebab-sized chunks and slid them onto tarnished and battered metal skewers. Prompto’s stomach growled as he followed his future self up the ramp around the side of the haven, and Future Prompto chuckled. “Successful hunt, huh?” he called up toward Future Ignis.

“Indeed,” Future Ignis said. “You’ve excellent timing; we just returned ourselves. Breakfast will be ready in perhaps twenty minutes.”

“Great!” Future Prompto said, then glanced around. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Disposing of the offal,” Future Ignis said. “Would one of you please wake His Majesty and His Highness?”

“Go for it, bud,” Future Prompto said to Prompto with a grin that said he knew full well he was throwing him under the bus.

Prompto rolled his eyes in response and ducked into the tent; he knew he’d need the full twenty minutes to get even one Noct awake, much less two of them. The older one was now sprawled across half the tent floor, his breath whistling faintly through his half-open mouth. Prince Noctis - Prompto’s Noct - was still curled in a tight ball against the other side of the tent. Prompto crouched beside him, reaching out one hand. He’d intended to shove Noct’s shoulder the way he usually did to wake him, but suddenly found himself unable to make contact.

Prompto was a freak, a science experiment intended to be nothing more than fuel for the Niflheim Empire’s war machine. Noctis was the Crown Prince of Lucis, the primary target of that war machine. Future Prompto had said Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio didn’t care about Prompto’s origins, but from the sound of it Future Prompto had known them all for more than two years longer at the time they’d found out. Gladio barely spoke to Prompto, and Ignis was polite but distant. What if the three years Prompto had known Noctis wasn’t enough? What if something important had happened in those remaining two years that made the difference between he’s our friend and ditch the freak? What if—

A hand wrapped around Prompto’s outstretched wrist and tugged him off-balance to fall against Noct’s chest. Prompto grunted in surprise and looked up, but Noct’s eyes were still closed. His arm wrapped around Prompto, though, pulling him close enough that Prompto could feel his heartbeat, his breath rustling Prompto’s hair, both rapid and unsteady enough that he knew Noct was awake.

He squirmed uncertainly, trying to untangle his legs from beneath him even as part of his mind still wanted to pull away and avoid contaminating the Crown Prince any further. “Noct…”

“Shut up,” Noctis murmured. A hesitation, then he added nervously, “It’s not - Carbuncle isn’t here, and I just…”

Oh. Apparently Prompto wasn’t the only one to wake up to a panic attack after what had happened last night. He wriggled into a more comfortable position and got an arm around Noctis in return, tucking his head under Noct’s chin. “Yeah, okay.”

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, until Noct’s heartbeat slowed and his grip on the back of Prompto’s shirt eased. But even that little motion was enough to set Prompto’s own anxiety off again. If Noctis found out what he really was, would he even want to touch Prompto anymore?

Without meaning to, Prompto blurted, “I’m… I’m really your friend, right?”

“Of coure you’re my friend, idiot,” Noctis said. He pulled back a little, which made Prompto tense up even more, but it was only to give him an incredulous look. “Where’d that come from?”

Prompto shook his head, already regretting the words. “It’s nothing, I mean, I…”

“Prompto,” Noctis cut in. “We’re cuddling. If you were any more my friend it would be a front-page scandal in the Insomnia Times.”

Prompto giggled despite himself. “Dude, I’m pretty sure the part where the Crown Prince ran away from home and went outside the Wall is the bigger scandal right now.”

“Ran away with my friend I’m cuddling with,” Noctis teased. “This is going to be even bigger than when Lord Manufestaria got caught in flagrante delicto with his daughter’s nanny. Front page headlines, scrolling banner on TV, top of everyone’s news feeds. Maybe they’ll even bring back hawkers on the street corners.”

“Titan’s ba—” Prompto started to swear, then remembered the conversation back in the water shed and choked on the words. “Augh,” he groaned, and buried his face against Noct’s shoulder.

“What?” Noctis asked, then prodded Prompto in the ribs when he didn’t respond. “What?”

“Let’s just say my future self has ruined that swear forever,” Prompto muttered.

Noctis smirked. “Good. You don’t sound nearly as edgy as you think you do when you say it.”

“Hey, I’m plenty edgy!”

“Sure,” Noctis shot back. “That’s why you stole cuss words from Skynner from Dungeon Delvers.”

“Busted.” Prompto put the back of his hand to his forehead in his best woe-is-me pose. “You got me. All my coolness comes from imitating video game characters.”

Noctis laughed, and suddenly everything was okay again, at least right now. Prompto was still Noct’s friend, and Noct trusted him enough to be a replacement for the little Carbuncle figurine he kept under his pillow. They’d be okay. He’d be okay.

He nudged Noctis. “Anyway, Ignis - Future Ignis, the scary one - sent me in here to wake you and future-you up for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” Noctis sat up.

Prompto grinned and made a shooing motion. “Go. I still have to wake up future-you.”

“Good luck.” With that, Noctis climbed over him and out of the tent.

Waking up Future Noctis wasn’t much different than waking up Noctis on a more typical day. Future Noctis groaned, swatted Prompto’s hand away, and tried to burrow under nonexistent covers before finally sitting up and blinking blearily. As much as he’d grown up to look like King Regis, he still acted like the laid-back, doofy prince Prompto knew. It was weirdly reassuring.

By the time Prompto cajoled Future Noctis out of the tent, the others had settled around the embers of the campfire in the middle of the haven. The Noctises each got one of the four folding chairs by dint of being royalty, while Future Gladio had taken a third chair with Future Prompto perched precariously on his knee. Gladio stood stiffly behind Noct’s seat, hands folded behind his back like he was at an official function instead of a campground, while Ignis helped his older counterpart remove finished kebabs from the grill.

Prompto hesitated, finally deciding to sit on the ground and use Noctis’s legs as a back rest. Ignis handed out kebabs to the Noctises first, then the Gladios, reaching past Prompto and Future Prompto awkwardly. Future Gladio chuckled. “Don’t gotta bother with rules of rank out here, Igs.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Ignis said stiffly. “And if one only stands on formality when being observed, such formality becomes meaningless.”

Future Ignis’s head tilted at that, though Prompto couldn’t read the expression that flickered across his face behind the mirrored glasses and the scars. Future Ignis said mildly, “Formality is no more than a tool to express a sentiment and impose an order upon the world.”

Ignis tensed, pushing his own glasses back into place. “Our world has been turned thoroughly upside-down in the past twenty-four hours,” he said. “A little order is greatly needed.”

Future Noctis shot a glance at his younger self over Prompto’s head; Prompto couldn’t see Noct’s face but he imagined it had much the same expression as Future Noctis: fond exasperation. Noctis said, “It’s okay, Ignis. Sounds like the normal order was gonna be tossed out the window in a few years anyway.”

Ignis’s jaw tensed, his cheekbones standing out in sharp relief; he turned away abruptly and resumed serving kebabs, though his shoulders remained stiff as a board. Prompto bit his lip, wanting to say something but not sure what. The expression on Ignis’s face when he handed Prompto a pair of kebabs was forbidding, and Prompto ended up saying nothing. He couldn’t afford to piss off Ignis yet, not before he knew where he would stand with him and Gladio after… after they found out.

For a few minutes the haven was silent as everyone ate. Prompto had missed dinner last night thanks to the daemons who’d kidnapped him, and despite the sickly paleness of the vegetables on the skewer, the kebabs tasted amazing. Fortunately, they had plenty of meat from whatever the others had hunted, so he didn’t feel too guilty for eating three kebabs by himself and stealing all of the vegetables off Noct’s. Ignis’s disapproving look almost made him give the veggies back, but the look was aimed at Noctis and Noctis returned it with a raised eyebrow that clearly told Ignis to back off.

Trying to make up for it, Prompto finished eating quickly and popped to his feet, collecting the empty skewers from the others and taking them back to the little folding table Future Ignis had used for prep. Then floundered, because how did you wash dishes on a campground with no running water?

Behind him, Future Gladio called, “There’s a metal mixing bowl in the cooler under the stove. Pour some water in there and heat it on the grill, you can use that to wash up.”

“I don’t suppose you have dish soap in there, too,” Ignis said, his voice studiously neutral.

“We haven’t had dish soap for, oh, seven or eight years,” Future Prompto said cheerfully. “Either you scrub real good with a washcloth, or you use whatever bar soap is left over from the shower.”

Crouched beside the stove, Prompto peeked over his shoulder in time to see the horror that flashed across Ignis’s face before he got his expression under control. Future Ignis said, in a gentle tone, “We’re used to it. I’ll not say it’s pleasant, but one can get used to many things when one has no other choice.”

Ignis stalked over to Prompto’s side, not quite snatching the mixing bowl from Prompto’s hands and reaching for one of the water bottles on the table. “I thought the goal of us running away from the Crown City was to avoid a situation where we needed to get used to such things.”

“Ignis,” Noctis said sharply. Ignis tensed, the muscles in his jaw working again. Noctis continued, “If you want to go home, you can. I know I’m asking a lot of you guys, and I’ll understand if—”

“No,” Ignis cut in. He closed his eyes and blew out a slow breath, though he didn’t turn to look at Noctis. “My place is by your side. No matter what.”

Noct’s gaze flicked to Future Ignis, the hideous scars around his eyes, and he winced. Prompto’s stomach churned as he realized what Noctis - what Ignis - was thinking. Taking a deep breath, trying to get the words out before his brain could panic and shut down, he said, “You sure about that ‘no matter what’ part?” His voice came out normal, teasing, and inwardly he sighed with relief. “‘Cause you might want to step away to let him, y’know, go to the bathroom and stuff. Take a shower now and then. Maybe have some alone time.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Ignis choked and nearly dropped the water bottle, while Noctis sputtered in indignation. Future Prompto said lightly, “He’s got a point. I’m pretty sure Noct was eighteen when he started sneaking books from the adults-only cabinet in the back corner of the comics shop.”

“Seventeen,” Future Noctis corrected with an innocent grin. “Would’ve been sooner but the shop owner didn’t believe I was over twelve before then.”

Noctis went red from his nose to his ears and Ignis looked like he wanted to do anything but have this conversation. Future Gladio laughed. “I still ain’t sure I believe it. I’d say try the beard again but it wasn’t exactly helping your case.”

“It made me look too old!” Future Noctis protested.

“Sorry, my dude, hate to say it but it mostly made you look scruffy,” Future Prompto teased.

“Still better than yours,” Future Noctis shot back.

“Rude!” Future Prompto put a hand over his heart and swayed on Future Gladio’s knee in mock distress.

They continued to banter as Prompto tugged the bowl of water from Ignis’s hands and set it on the grill. He was examining the sides, trying to figure out how to light it, when Ignis leaned past him and twisted a knob. Flames burned to life under the bowl and Prompto dumped the dirty skewers into the water, waiting for it to finish heating.

Then Ignis said, very quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Prompto blinked at him, sure he’d misheard - Ignis Scientia was apologizing to him? But Ignis’s mouth flickered in something that didn’t quite manage to be a smile, and he continued, “This was all… very sudden, but that’s no excuse for me to be rude.”

“S’okay,” Prompto said automatically. “I mean, I get it. It was sudden for me, too.”

“Moreso for you than the rest of us,” Ignis said ruefully. Prompto’s heart skipped a couple of beats in terror before he realized Ignis meant the whole kidnapping thing last night. He didn’t know about the barcode, about what Prompto really was. Not yet. Then Ignis added, “Nevertheless, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Really?” Prompto said, and immediately wanted to die of embarrassment. He was eighteen, he shouldn’t squeak like the groupie girls that followed Noctis around school.

But Ignis smiled again, this time for real, soft and warm as he shot a glance over his shoulder at Noct. “Noctis is… happier, when you’re with him. What we’re about to undertake… he’ll need that.”

“Oh,” Prompto said. His cheeks were heating up, and not from the warmth of the grill. “He’s my best friend. I’ll stay with him as long as he’ll have me.”

“Good,” Ignis said. He nudged Prompto gently. “Then go sit with him. I’ll handle the dishes.”

“You sure?” Prompto said. “I don’t mind—”

“Neither do I,” Ignis said. “Please.”

Prompto studied him for a second. He suspected that as much as anything, Ignis wanted a few minutes to focus on a task away from the others, to compose himself and maybe try to not be so snappish. So he nodded and flashed a smile. “Thanks.”

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #chocobros #sanity's time travel fic #fanfiction

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nervousllikeme · 7 years

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i’ve been planning on building a computer for a few weeks and my direct deposit just came in so i bought my list. but i feel bad ig. i have a perkins loan they haven't given me notice about in months before the other day that i need to take care of, but i lost the late notice they sent the other day with my account number so i can’t make online payments until they either reply to my email asking for it or send a second late notice by mail. that shit stresses me out. that’s the only bill i’m behind on and i know it’s not enough to get me in trouble rn and i’ll take care of it asap but it gives me bad anxiety. i’m not sure if it’s better or worse that i don’t have any private loans.

at least i’m making enough for the rent/bills/food. it isn’t what i want to be doing at all, but it’s money. and if all goes well i’ll get promoted at the end of the month, which is a $2 raise. at least i’m not sleeping on the floor.

but i feel bad. spending money on wants instead of needs. not “saving” money, like my more well off friends talk about doing. but i’ve been poor my whole life. whatever “savings” i had had to go back into the household growing up; first/last/security when we got evicted, food, emergencies, whatever. and i got the privileged of going to college, an art school, mostly thanks to the government. and most of the people i was friends with were very well off if not flat out rich. and i always felt like the odd one out. the dirty, poor idiot who slept in her studio because she didn’t have the money to buy a train pass to go back to her sister’s house an hour away where she was staying.

and now i’m not doing shit with the degree i’m in debt because of. it’s only been a year and a half, maybe i shouldn’t be so hard on myself. i’m trying to do things i guess. getting a new computer means having an actual shot at working on stuff without constant crashes, freezing, lag, whatever. i’m trying to get into photography as best i can. i’m working with a friend on collabing on something. i’ve got the podcast i’m on. but i just can’t seem to focus on anything but my source of income being based in the lower rungs of the food industry and i’m working full time at it. and also i have no friends. but buying things for me, the computer, could be an incentive to want to actually live again. if i have a new computer that works, i can play games and do other things i want to do. i can be content. if i’m content, i’ll be okay at work. if i’m okay at work, i can make more money. if i make more money, i can go see doctors and not stress if the copay is going to take away from money to live. that doesn’t solve the friend thing, which is a huge hole in my life.

the collab thing is reconnecting me with someone...that i’m not sure it’s a good idea to reconnect with. a really rocky relationship that i feel a lot of shame about because i should’ve gotten help sooner and not do things that i did. story of my life. but she approached me. so i don’t know, whatever. i have to write a few letters to people but i’ve been feeling like such shit and my carpal tunnel is making things impossible when i try to write for more than a few minutes at a time, with and without my brace on. i haven’t made friends out here, i’m friendly with my co-workers sure but we don’t hang out. i don’t have a car with seems to be a social problem out here. i’ve felt so completely empty the past...well, year. very lonely. it goes away sometimes. i’m at an away time right now.

i don’t know if i’m managing my bpd all that well. i guess not. i’m trying to and trying to think through things as they’re happening or tell myself to hold on until i get home so i can think about it. but it’s hard with no support system. but if i do have people close to me, i’m still at a stage where i don’t think enough and say bad things. but let’s be real, i was dumped by a lot of my friends around this time last year. suddenly, i had people telling me that they didn’t want to enable me and that turned into ignoring me. and with that sudden abandonment i just hurt so much and i isolated myself and moved 2,000 miles away eventually. So i’m not sure how it would be to get back into a group of people. My best friend said that i’m easily triggered, and i knew that it would happen whenever we hung out. everything would be fine but then with no warning i’d “shut down” on the outside, stop talking and look serious etc. On the inside i’d realize whatever situation i was in and would start to spiral down. Most of the time this would happen when hanging out at my best friend’s house with her roommates who I was friends with too and I’d be third, fifth, seventh wheeling it most of the time. and ofc they all straight and i feel highly uncomfortable around cis straight guys (which is a whole trigger itself). I’d just start to feel on the outside of whatever was happening, outside of the conversation, and i’d “shut down”. and i eventually i realized this and that was another contributing factor into my whole isolation thing. i became, in my own mind, impossible to hang out with. i’d always get triggered somehow if i wasn’t already sad and irritable before hanging out. and i tried to limit my interaction with my friends. and as i said earlier, they began to limit it with me. so that’s how i spent about eight months completely alone apart from sometimes talking to my internet friends and having to work ofc.

i’ve had a few people throughout my life tell me that they feel like they trigger me. and that feels like shit. i’m not sure what to do about that. i guess communicate more. it’s hard to admit that i have feelings, let alone what kind they are. and i always, always, always forget. even if i keep a journal, i forget. whatever i’ve written sounds like it’s someone else and i guess in a meta sense it is, i’m not who i was months, weeks, days ago. i feel like a human catch-22. needs a support system in order to get better, but everyone i love will deeply hurt me no matter what and i will hurt them too. i don’t know what to do. i guess a therapy animal is a start. i don’t want to go through all the red tape and paperwork in order to do that with my apartment building though. and i’m not sure if i can take care of other living being, i can’t take care of myself. and can i be able to afford a pet anyway? if i have to move, will i be able to find a place where i can have it?

i’m not sure if it’s a good thing to let new people into my life or try to repair things with the old people. but i’m not sure that being completely alone is okay. i don’t want to hurt anymore. i don’t want to breathe in blood when i think about my utter loneliness anymore. but i don’t want to hurt anyone. i don’t want to grow close with someone only to have it disintegrate before i can put the fires out.

#depressing shit 2017 #this is long and rambles a lot #just have a lot of feelings ig

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lhugbereth · 8 years

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Yakuza!Ignis fic update!

Hey there, lovelies! Here’s the second half of the first chapter of this thing (the first bit can be found here)

It also now has an official title: Death Fears Not the Reaper (it will make sense in later chapters, just trust me okaaaay) and can be found on AO3 here!

As always, feedback is GREATLY appreciated as this is my first time attempting a full-out AU with more plot than smut.... Let’s be honest, I have no clue what I’m doing lol *flails* On with the show!

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It was only a short drive from the main complex to the penthouse apartment where Noctis, son of Lord Regis L. Caelum and heir to the family’s veritable underground kingdom, lived alone. It had been a compromise of sorts between him and his father; while Noctis wanted nothing more than independence, Regis wanted him close at hand to keep learning about the family business. Getting him his own place nearby seemed like the perfect solution, and Ignis himself had been asked to scout the area for suitable living arrangements. As such, he knew the place like the back of his own hand, and even had his own access code to get him through the heavy security.

Stepping up to the front entrance, he ignored the cameras that tracked his every move and punched in his key code by heart. The doors swung open and he was inside. It seemed easy, perhaps, but he knew that one false step, one suspicious move and he would never even hear the bullet coming. Regis took no chances when it came to his only child.

Ignis rode the elevator to the top floor as he’d done countless times in the past. As he waited, he withdrew his phone from his shirt pocket and skimmed through the various messages he’d received throughout the night. There was one from Cor, undoubtedly in regards to Gladio’s half-assed reply after the warehouse fiasco, and a few updates from other members of the Glaive whose names he’d never bothered to learn. Surprisingly, there was a message from Noctis as well; this was the only one Iggy bothered to read. He swiped the notification next to the familiar icon to see only two words:

/Bring pizza./

A long-suffering sigh escaped him. Yet as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, he had no choice but to step forward into the vast expanse of the ohji ’s suite.

From the foyer, he could see past the kitchen and into the drawing room that Noctis had furnished with plush grey sofas and a gigantic flat-screen television against the far wall. Noctis was there, too, as far as he could tell from the mess of black hair bobbing rhythmically above the edge of the couch to some music only he could hear.

Approaching, Ignis cleared his throat twice before the young heir, finally noticing him, yanked out his earbuds and turned around. “Oh! Hey, Iggy,” he grinned, and set his game controller on the cushion next to him. “Didn’t hear you come in.” He got to his feet and circled around the edge of the sofa.

“You should take more care. Lucky for you I’m not an enemy of your family, but the next time….”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not like this place isn’t harder to get into than a maximum security joint.” Still smiling, Noct folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the sofa. Dark blue eyes roamed up the length of Ignis’ body, taking in the sight of his suit, his gloves, the way his hair was beginning to fall out of place where he’d slicked it back much earlier in the day. Fresh off work, then, and decidedly not carrying dinner. Noct feigned a pout.

“All out of pizza at the pizza store?”

He almost laughed aloud at the way Ignis stiffened. “Apologies, your Highness, I only just received your message. If you’d like I can call for delivery, or -- “

“It’s fine, I’m kidding. Anyway, I’m sure I’ve got some ramen or something around here.”

As he brushed past his advisor on his way to the kitchen, Ignis released another sigh. “Highness….” No response. “Noct, please. At least let me prepare something for you.”

“It’s fine ,” came the reply, Noct’s voice muffled inside the half-empty pantry. “C’mon Igs, you’ve gotta be exhausted. Don’t worry about me.��

A firm hand closed around his shoulder, causing him to jump half out of his skin in surprise. He hid it as smoothly as he could behind a cough. Above him, Ignis’ eyes softened. “Noctis, you are the one and only son of the most powerful man in the city. You need to learn how to let others serve you. Trust me, cooking for you is a pleasure, not a chore.”

The red tint that started at the bridge of Noct’s nose and spread slowly over his cheeks was impossible to hide. He swallowed, dropped his eyes to the gloved hand on his shoulder, and nodded. “...Then, uh, thanks. I guess I’d like that.”

“Very good.” Ignis shifted, moving instead to the refrigerator to inspect what little his ward had in the way of ingredients. “Hmm. How does a simple stir-fry sound to you?”

“Yeah, fine.” Mostly recovered now, the dark-haired heir to the criminal underworld hopped up on the edge of the kitchen counter and stared his advisor dead in the eye. “But no veggies.”

“...H-highness….”

In the end, Noctis acquiesced to the addition of green peas to the stir-fry provided Ignis double the serving of potatoes and smother the whole thing in sauce. While certainly not the most balanced meal, it was a far cry better than what Ignis normally got him to eat, so he accepted the deal without much argument. Noctis watched as, stripping off his gloves, Ignis stepped up to the sink and began to rinse his bare hands under the warm water. He noticed, of course, the dried blood under the other man’s fingernails, and the subtle red tint as the water washed away the rest, but he knew better than to comment. Ignis never talked about the details of his work with Noct, and now was hardly the time to press.

They ate together in relative silence. The dining table in Noct’s penthouse was large enough to seat eight guests comfortably, but more often than not it held only one. Dinner for two was a rare treat for the young ohji . Perhaps that was why, when Ignis got up to collect the tableware and, inevitably, excuse himself for the night, Noctis jumped up to stop him before he even knew what he was going to say.

“Wait a sec.”

Ignis paused, a plate in each hand, and glanced over his shoulder. “Something the matter?”

“No, I just, um.” The young crime lord shook his head, thinking quickly. “Don’t you want to grab a shower or something before you go?”

The look Ignis gave him made him instantly regret his choice of words. But never one to back down from even the scrappiest of fights, Noct straightened his back and continued. “I mean obviously you have a perfectly good shower at home and all that, but, well, it’d be a shame to get your car dirty on the way, right?” Open mouth, insert foot , he chided himself, though he managed to hide his grimace behind a convincing smile.

Ignis glanced down at himself -- his pristine suit jacket, his pressed pants, his polished shoes -- and arched a brow. “Do I offend ?”

“N-no, no!” Kicking himself mentally, Noctis decided to spare himself further humiliation by instead sidling up to Iggy and very gracefully snagging the plates from his grip. “I just mean, why don’t you take it easy for once, hm? Relax, pamper yourself. You go shower, and I’ll take care of the dishes.” That dark green gaze narrowed in suspicion until he was forced to add, “Well, I mean, I’ll at least put them in the sink for you. Go on, stop wasting time.”

Though his mind was spinning a mile a minute trying to catch Noct’s angle, Ignis couldn’t very well ignore a direct order. He padded down the hall to the bathroom, stripped and folded his clothes, and placed them neatly on the counter. While waiting for the water to heat up to an adequate temperature, he stole a glance at himself in the mirror.

And frowned. He had served for the Caelum family his whole life, just like his father and grandfather before him, and from a young age he’d gotten accustomed to the plethora of scars and injuries that came with the territory. But something he had never quite learned to accept were the tattoos. A mark, a brand even of his history with the yakuza, his irezumi were colorful, exotic, covering nearly every inch of his body from waist to neck. His chest was a menagerie of gruesome beasts with great, open maws. On his left arm, lotus blossoms scattered on the surface of a blood-red stream. On his right, falling leaves burned and blackened in a fiery wind as great, winding dragons ascending to the heavens. His back held the largest piece of all; the most fearsome skeletal figure imaginable, a Reaper, surrounded by the anguished souls of its countless victims.

Horrors, all of them. Noctis had never seen the tattoos, and Ignis was determined to keep it that way.

He tore his eyes away from the mirror and stepped into the hot water, letting it burn away the filth and rot of the day’s unsavory work.

When Ignis returned to the living room, hair damp but not a button out of place on his suit, he found Noctis once again on the sofa with his headphones. This time, however, he was nose deep in a comic book and, much to Iggy’s chagrin, had his shoes propped up on the arm.

“ Really , Noct,” he started, swatting his feet down and snatching the comic from his hands. “Is this all you do in your free time?”

“No. I play videogames, too.”

A resolved sigh before Ignis was taking a seat on the sofa at his side. There was a stack of black, sealed files set on the table in front of them, and he swiped up a few to pass forcefully to his companion. “Why not read up a little about the state of your family’s current investments? This is going to be very important for you one day.”

Noct accepted the files, glanced at the title on each, and tossed them back onto the table without ceremony. “Money comes in, money goes out. Got it. Hey, here’s a question,” he said suddenly, shifting a little closer until he could pick up the scent of lilac soap on his advisor’s skin. Ignis leaned back a few inches out of instinct. “Why don’t you tell me about those Glaives? Y’know, the ones who died yesterday.”

Behind his glasses, green eyes widened in surprise, then just as quickly narrowed. “Where did you hear about that?”

A shrug, and a smirk. “Y’know, around . ...Actually, it was Nyx.”

“Of course it was.” Ignis pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with one gloved finger and sighed. “How much do you already know?”

“Not much. I heard it happened in broad daylight, that three of them were attacked and -- “ He paused, drawing his thumb across his throat in a meaningful gesture. Ignis’ mouth twitched.

“Beheaded, yes.”

“Right, that. So they’re dead, and now my father thinks someone is trying to start a turf war, or whatever.” He looked at Ignis for a long moment, his deep blue eyes searching for answers, for affirmation, anything written in his stoic expression. “Is that what you were doing today? Why you had blood on your hands?”

For once, Ignis wasn’t sure how to respond. As much as he wanted Noctis to someday successfully fill his father’s shoes, he was also loathe to drag him down any further into a world he didn’t yet belong. Still, he supposed this counted as studying in its own right, so he was willing to let both the comic book and the economics issues slide for now. “Yes. And no,” he added quickly, not missing the curiosity piquing on Noct’s face. “Nyx isn’t entirely wrong, but your father knows this is no mere turf war. The killings were sudden, unprovoked. Neither the Niffs nor the Nox Fleurets have stepped forward to claim the acts, and we haven’t been able to find any witnesses or reliable….informants.”

The young heir let the words sink in for a moment before asking again with renewed interest, “So who did it? What’s your theory?”

He shrugged. “A couple of rogues? Or a mistake. Even a fool wouldn’t pick a fight with the Caelum family without some kind of deathwish. Still,” he sighed, reaching forward to lay a gloved hand on Noctis’ shoulder. “Until we sort things out, it isn’t safe for you out there. Noct, you’re going to need to stay here for a few days.”

Anger flared to life almost instantly in those usually calm eyes. “Stay here, alone in this glorified prison?” Noct spat, suddenly raising his voice. “The tournament is this weekend, Father promised he’d let me go this year!”

“Noct, calm down. I’m sorry, this isn’t my decision.”

“But you agree with it, don’t you?"

"For your safety, yes, I do." His reply was met with rebellious silence as the dark-haired nineteen-year old folded his arms over his chest.

It wasn't that Ignis didn't understand. Of course it was only natural that Noct was lonely, of course he wanted a taste of freedom. The boy had spent his entire life under constant surveillance, after all, under lock and key by an overprotective father who was doing what he thought best against the dangers of the cruel world. But no teenager ever understood that. And Ignis, for his part, would have given the world to see Noct happy, if only that choice were up to him.

"If it helps," he offered, voice quiet and soothing in the space between them. "Once this all blows over, I promise to take you fishing. Outside of the city."

"...Really?" Noct’s tone was a mix of hope and incredulity, but if nothing else the thought got him talking again. "And you think Father would allow that?"

A warm smile, one that made Ignis’ eyes crinkle as he patted the other’s cheek. "It may just be our little secret." That was the kind of thinking that would likely land his head on a spike someday, but he wouldn't really be Iggy if he wasn't risking his own neck to please the prince.

Although still somewhat reluctant, Noctis managed a smile up at his advisor. His gaze faltered for a moment, then before he lost the nerve he leaned forward and pulled the taller man into a hug. "You're the best, Specs."

Few things made Ignis the Reaper’s heart thud in his chest. Danger, the adrenaline-fueled thrill of a fight, was one. Palming a brand new set of knives was another. But perhaps more than either of those was the feeling of holding Noctis Caelum in his arms.

Only five years apart, Ignis had quite literally grown up alongside the young would-be boss. They'd been friends once, back when the innocence of youth had allowed such things, and even as they fit piece by piece into their ever-shifting roles, Ignis had wanted nothing more than to stay by Noct’s side. Selfish, perhaps, given the sheer amount of secrets he kept to preserve their relationship, but it was a feeling that gave him strength all the same. And, at times, had him questioning his own sanity.

He returned the hug gently, almost reverently, and willed his mind to focus on the present. "It's late, Noct. Would you like me to help you to bed?" Because that didn't conjure up any vivid images at all.

Against his shoulder Noctis shook his head. "Nah. Not tired yet. But...you don’t have to go right now, do you?”

Once more Ignis checked the clock on the wall. He had a meeting first thing in the morning, and Regis would be expecting results that he didn’t yet have. What he should be doing was making his report to Cor and checking that his men had properly disposed of the evening’s evidence.

What he did instead was pull Noctis closer and settle into the cushions of his sofa while he watched him play videogames for several more hours.

The young ohji had fallen asleep against him sometime just before midnight. Ignis carried him to his room and laid him out on his bed, at least taking the liberty of removing his shoes if nothing else. In sleep his face was so peaceful, so beautiful that tearing himself away from the sight was almost physically painful. Yet it was as he turned out the lights and made his way back toward the foyer that he finally retrieved his phone once more from his pocket. Now that Noctis was settled, it was time to get back to business. He pressed a single key on his screen and the line was ringing before he even stepped into the elevator.

Cor answered after only two beats. “Scientia, where the ever-loving fuck have you been?”

“Working,” he replied politely. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“You’d better be. Now that our last informant is sinking in about twelve different parts of the Crestholm -- and I suppose I have you to thank for that? -- we’ve got nothing to show the boss. He isn’t going to be happy. You and Amicitia have exactly seven hours to fix it.”

“Overtime again, then, I take it?” His answer came in the form of a dial tone, and Ignis raked his gloved fingers back through his hair before switching to text.

/Be outside in ten/, he warned Gladio, letting his head fall back against the wall of the elevator as he continued to descend.

On the bright side, at least he’d already had a shower.

#fic #yakuza ignis #ignoct maybe #there will be eventually #why does tumblr hate formatting?#plz read on AO3 for better experience #myfic

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