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solarwonux · 4 years ago

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10. I still remember the way you taste.

yoongi x f!reader

w.c: 3.8k (YES I GOT CARRIED AWAY SUE ME)

warnings: smut, semi unprotected sex, make up sex, some angst. Briefly edited.

note: lol i think I forgot how to write smut but anyway, hi, um, yes I got carried away lmao. But yeah let me know your thoughts. Send me a drabble prompt hehe. Thank you for reading I hope you enjoy.

drabble game

“I still remember the way you taste.” Yoongi’s knee is wedged in between your thighs as he attacks your neck in desperate open-mouthed kisses. “Yoongi, f-fuck, s-stop.” You say in between pants, placing your hands against his chest in an attempt to create some sort of space between the two of you.

Yoongi smirks against your skin and lifts his head, eyeing you down, pushing his hips further into yours, showing you how much he needed you. “I’ve been holding back from you all weekend. The guys even have a bet going on to see how long I can keep my distance from you.” His hand travels down the side of your body, bunching your silk dress up to your thighs. “Safe to say Jungkook, Hoseok, and Seokjin have lost.”

You roll your eyes. “God, don’t talk about them right now.” You run a finger down his clothed chest, stopping above the first button of his vest. “At least not when you’re about to fuck me in the bathroom of your best friend’s wedding reception” You pop the first button, earning an enticing low groan from your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey!” He exclaims flicking your forehead lightly, “he’s your best friend too.”

“Yoongi, I’m serious I hear their names come out of your lips one more time and I’ll leave you to take care of yourself.” You say as he apologizes with a nod of his head. You unbutton the next two buttons of his vest, stopping before pushing it off his body finally taking in the situation and your surroundings. The bathroom wasn’t dirty, nor was it clean. It had a musty smell making you wonder if someone had already done the deed before the two of you walked in. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.” You quirk a questioning eyebrow.

He shakes his head in disbelief, “I’m not walking through the reception and the hotel lobby with a boner.” He grinds his hips against yours, proving his point. You let out a moan throwing your head back, hitting the wall behind you lightly. He felt so good, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the hand dryer was painfully digging into your back. You would’ve agreed with his statement.

“Just stay behind me, I’ll cover you. Who’s room is closer?” You push him away, finally creating the distance you needed. You turn to face the mirror, fixing your smudged lipstick. Yoongi was shocked, staring at you. God, you were so sexy, the product of his late-night escapades by himself. Especially after the two of you had mutually called it quits.

All throughout the weekend you were driving him crazy, reeling him in to then push him away. He suspects that was your revenge for breaking up with you. One you only agreed to because you knew that once his mind was set on something, there was no way to talk him out of it.

He had almost survived. Almost. That small buzzword was thrown out the window the second you entered the green room where he and all the rest of the groomsmen were waiting in to let them know the ceremony was going to start in five minutes. The long silk lilac dress you were wearing left little to his imagination, one he didn’t have to use much because he had spent years memorizing every single part of your body.

You giggle at his dazed look, sending him a wink through the mirror before turning to face him again, planting a slow sensual kiss against his lips, pulling away before he could respond. “Hurry up or I might change my mind.” You pat his chest and walk past him. “I’ll wait outside.” You say in a sing-song voice and Yoongi was now fully convinced you were messing with him. Exuding your revenge and he had foolishly fallen into your trap.

The walk through the reception was a nightmare.

Yoongi felt like he couldn’t breathe, his hand sweating in between yours. He sent glares into your back and they only got worse every time you stopped to talk about your new start-up business, with someone he barely recognized. He was proud of you for finally leaving your job. He had witnessed many of your angry breakdowns, his heart shattering every time you cried into his chest because of how unhappy you were working for your dream company. That when he finally got word that you had left and started your own company, boldly rivaling your old one. The sigh of relief he let out was monumental. He was proud of you and would’ve told you, praised you, as you happily explained your ideas. That’s if he was thinking with his head and heart not his dick, which was straining painfully against the waistband of his slacks. If it wasn’t for his suit jacket doing most of the work in hiding it he would’ve died out of pure agony and embarrassment.

“We finally found an office and we’re moving in when Jimin gets back from his honeymoon. Sadly, he says I’m not allowed to start decorating without him, scared I’ll put an outside fountain in the middle of the whole place.” You say, prompting a booming laugh from Jimin’s dad.

Jimin’s mom shakes her head, “he gets his perfectionism from my side of the family, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, honestly, I don’t have an ounce of interior design in my body, so I’d rather he be there to supervise before he yells at me saying that I’ve ruined everything.”

Yoongi could feel the sweat start to pool above his brow, tuning you and Jimin’s parents out. He had never felt this needy in his entire life. He supposes it's the adrenaline rush of seeing you in such a revealing dress or the fact that he missed you. The last year and a half without you had been awful. Everything reminded him of you and he had to fight the urge to just call you. He never did. Afraid you had found it in yourself to finally hate him for breaking your heart.

“Yoongi, sweetheart, are you okay?” Jimin’s mom asked, placing the back of her hand against his forehead, making him flinch. “Oh dear, you’re burning up, maybe you should go lay down.” The worry in her voice was evident, melting his heart. Jimin’s parents always treated him like he was one of their own, welcoming him with open arms when Jimin had first invited him and the guys over for lunch after school almost ten years ago. When Yoongi’s parents had kicked him out for choosing to study music production instead of something ‘meaningful’ they had taken him and even offered to pay for his school expenses. He owed them a lot, and if circumstances were different he would’ve thanked them profusely, just like he always did.

“I think he has a fever so I’m going to walk him back to his room.” You nod your head, letting go of his hand and looping your arm with his. “It must’ve been the shrimp appetizer, he’s never been good with seafood, right baby?” The evil glint in your eye was too much. You’re teasing was getting too much for him to handle. He’s never seen this side of you. It excited him.

“Right!”

“Oh please, hurry, we’ll let Jimin know you had to leave early I’m sure he’ll understand.” Jimin’s mom said, pushing the two of you towards the exit.

Once the two of you were away, closer to the double doors of the reception hall you leaned in, “How are you holding up?”

“Get me out of here before I drag you to the nearest bathroom again.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” You hold your hand out before Yoongi can step any closer to your body. A sound of annoyance erupting from his chest. Once upon a time, Yoongi had prided himself in being patient. Tonight was not one of those times.

The second the two of you were alone in the elevator, his hands and mouth were all over you. Painting beautiful flowers with his mouth against your skin. The noises he had elicited from you made his chest swell with pride and his cock throb painfully against his pants. Every ounce of self control he once harbored was long gone. He didn’t want to miss another second where he wasn’t touching you.

Yoongi had almost lost his mind while you were fumbling to get the door to your hotel room open. Though, that was mainly his fault, he literally couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

Yet, now that you were finally in the safety of your hotel room, Yoongi didn’t understand why you were still resisting him and it made him even more frustrated both sexually and emotionally. “What, what do I have to wait for now, I’m so close to coming in my pants please just let me fuck you.” He all but begged, even considered getting down on his knees and kissing the ground you walked on. Though, when he saw you smirk, he knew he had done exactly what you had hoped he would do.

“Fuck you.” He closed the distance, sighing when you innocently took a step back.

“I’m trying to but I need to take my shoes off.” You pouted, pointing to your heel cladded feet in front of you, arms behind your back as you swayed from side to side. Yoongi shook his head before taking you into your arms and walking you backwards until the back of your knees hit the bed. You fell back sitting down as Yoongi got down on his knees in front of you.

“Are you punishing me?” He asked with a pout on his lips.

You giggled placing both of your hands against his cheeks and squishing them. “Yes.” You affirmed kissing his lips, “I think you deserve it for leaving me.” You gave his cheeks a light tap. “Now get to work or I’ll kick you out.”

Yoongi scoffed, placing your left foot on top of his knees. His fingers unbuckling the buckle around your ankle slowly, his eyes burning holes into your soul. You swallowed nervously as he slipped it off, his lips connecting with the skin of your ankle, kissing the tiny stick n poke tattoo he had given you after a particularly stressful week of finals, almost three years ago.

It was crooked. The points of the star weren’t as perfect as he would’ve liked them to be. But it had been entirely your fault. You kept moving, yelping out in dramatized agony every time he poked the needle into your skin, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes. He knew you were just doing it to scare him. Your pain tolerance was higher than any normal human being, which is why he continued his masterpiece, ignoring your pleas to stop. Nevertheless, with a childish pout you had expressed your love for it in more ways than one and vowed to never cover it up no matter what.

You had kept true to your word.

“I didn’t mean to.” He sighed, kissing your inner thigh, then moving to the other one. He had long removed your other heel and was now showering you with all the kisses he hadn’t been able to give you in the last year and a half. “I didn’t want to break up with you.”

His hands traveled up the side of your legs, pushing your dress up further until the white lace of your panties were visible to his soft eyes. He bit his lip, taking in how much of an effect he still had on you. In all honesty, it made him feel on top of the world that your body was still so responsive to his touch.

“Why did you?” Your voice wavered and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Though, you had agreed with his decision to break things off. It had hurt more than you had intended it to hurt. You were left dazed and confused wondering how he could just wake up one day and decide that you weren’t enough for him anymore.

“You stopped chasing your dreams because of me.” The guilt he had felt every time he held you while you cried out in anger spilled out. The tears now fell down your eyes while he laid you down, taking your dress with him, bringing it over your head and throwing it to the side knocking over the glass of water you kept on your nightstand every night.

You jumped hitting his chest, “That dress was expensive.” You sniffed and wrapped your arms around his neck, “you’re the biggest idiot I know, I hate you.” You said, burying your head into his chest, mascara staining his pristine white dress shirt, while you unbuttoned it.

He knew you weren’t crying because of the dress, but this was also not what he meant when he wanted to have you crying tonight. You were right, he was an idiot.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded, grabbing your head making you look at him. His own eyes were now filled with tears as he wiped away your own. “I didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t happy.” He kissed your cheek then moved down to your neck, tonguing the spot underneath your ear that he knew would have you weak in your knees. “I-I wasn’t happy.” He confessed against your skin.

He had never once said it out loud and now that he had, while you pushed his shirt off his shoulders, undressing him further, he felt childish. “You could’ve just talked to me about it.” You sighed moving your hands down his chest, your manicured nails scraping his skin lightly. He shuddered, the coldness of your touch was something he had never been able to get used to. He had missed it.

“I know.” He licked down your neck, his fingers playing with your bottom lip, taping it lightly. “I didn’t know how to approach the situation.” His eyes all but rolled back as you took his fingers into your mouth, moaning around his digits. Your mouth was so hot and wet. He wanted to be inside of it, fucking it until you were sputtering and crying tears of pleasure, his precum mixing with your saliva. But he decided he could wait to fulfill his fantasy, right now he needed to show you much he still loved and cared about you.

Yoongi took his fingers out of your mouth, trailing his moist digits down your neck, painting a masterpiece until they wrapped around your nipples, pinching it, while his mouth kissed around your other nipple. The low sighs of pleasure you were making were astronomical. A beautiful melody he will never get tired of listening to.

“S-So you decided to break up with me, f-fuck.” You gasped when he lightly bit down on your nipple. It was euphoric, enough to have you reaching your orgasm. You were overly sensitive, overwhelmed with the fact that he was so close to you again.

“I thought we already agreed that I’m an idiot.” He joked and sat back on his knees, pushing your thighs apart with his hands. The only thing keeping you covered were your panties that were sticking onto you like a second skin and it was driving him insane.

“Let me keep reminding you then.” You smirked and sat up on your elbows, lifting your hips from the bed to meet his. “Break my heart again and I’ll cut off your dick, and this time I sincerely mean it my love.” He shuddered, your menacing words filled with possibilities and hope. Hope that after tonight you and him could start over again.

“Have I ever told you how much you actually scare me?” He tilted his head with curiosity, pushing your panties to the side. His mouth watering when he felt how truly wet you were for him. He wanted you in every single way possible. To drink you up like sweet honey dew juice. If he wasn’t so impatient he would’ve buried his face in between your legs, until you were cumming on his tongue.

“Once or twice.” You lifted your hips as he slid your panties down your legs. He threw them to the side giving your hip a light kiss. “Maybe more than three times.” You gasped as he pushed two of his fingers inside of you.

His eyes catching sight the other miniscule stick n poke tattoo he had given you after graduation. This time it was a beautiful cursive ‘y’ adorning the skin of your mound, the adrenaline along with the alcohol that was running through both of your veins that night, had numbed you out enough to have you lying still, giggling at his concentration instead of screaming out in pain.

He moved his fingers, his cock aching to be freed from it’s constraints. He was so painfully hard, aching to be buried inside of you. “I think I told you more than that.” He curled his fingers, hitting the mushy spot inside of you making you gasp.

“Yoongi, whatever, just please get inside of me before I kick you out.” You arched your back, lifting your hips as his fingers slowly teased you, opening you up for him. You hadn’t been fucked in such a long time. In fact, the last person you had sex with you was the one teasing you right now.

He huffed rolling his eyes and took out his fingers. “Stop threatening me like that.” He said, bringing his fingers up to your mouth, painting your lips with your arousal. “It hurts my feelings.”

“Then hurry up.” Your fingers reached over playing with the button of his pants, popping it open as you eyed him through lust filled hooded eyes, “We can play more another day, right now I need you inside of me before I die.” You pleaded. His eyes got wide, his mind ran faster than usual, making sure he had heard you right.

Another time, you had said. He had heard you right. His hearing wasn’t as bad as he claims it to be, especially when it came to you and anything that leaves your mouth. He nodded and helped you push his pants along with his boxers down his legs. He kicked them away. A low moan escaped his lips when he felt your delicate hand wrap around his hard cock. Your thumb running over his red tip, spreading around the precum.

“Do you have a condom?” He asked in a choked whisper as he tried his hardest not to cum in your hand.

You shook your head no, a pout forming on your lips, “I don’t, I thought you would have one.” You kissed his chest lightly as you kept moving your hand around him. “I’m still on the pill though.” You pulled away and looked up at him giving him a knowing wink.

He swallowed and pushed you softly, laying you down. “Honestly, I didn’t think this would ever happen again so I didn’t bring anything.”

Your hand around him fell to your side as he climbed over you slowly. “Tell me if it hurts okay, I’ll stop.” He reassured before aligning himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock over your pussy gathering your essence before pushing himself in.

“Y-Yoongi, oh my g-god, f-fuck.” You arched your back, digging your nails into the skin of his shoulders. You felt so deliciously good around him, your name falling out of his lips like a silent prayer.

He buried his face into your neck, planting open mouthed down your neck, biting down lightly when he felt you clench around him. “Can I keep going?” He mumbled. “I need to feel all of you.”

“Yes, please Yoongi please.” You gasped when you felt him bottoming out inside of you. The pleasure was mind numbing. Your pussy stretching over his cock after such a long time was otherworldly.

His hands found yours and he intertwined your fingers with his, placing your arms above your head as he started thrusting into you slowly. His eyes burning into yours, refusing to let your gaze go.

Nothing was heard, except for skin slapping against skin. His low grunts combining with your loud moans as he fucked into you faster. The sound of your wet pussy motivating him to continue his ministries. Neither of you were sure how much time had passed, the only thing that mattered was the desperate chase of your highs.

“Make me cum please.” You pleaded over and over again, as he pistoned his hips into you faster and harder. The knot forming against the pit of your stomach. You kept clenching around him and he knew you were close to the edge. He was too, he could feel the tightness of his balls as his thrusts became sloppy.

“B-Baby, I’m close.” He bit down on your neck as you arched your back, your nipples brushing against his lightly.

You dug your nails into his knuckles, raising your hips to meet his desperate thrusts. “Me too, I’m so close.” You gasped as he rolled his hips into yours. The change of rhythm had you screaming out in pleasure.

He let go of one of your hands, not wasting a second in finding your swollen clit, rubbing fast circles against it with his thumb, “Gonna cum around me my angel, gonna let me paint your walls white.” He panted, his sweaty bangs falling over his eyes. He looked like a greek God, Adonis himself.

“F-Fuck yes Yoongi, fuck I-I’m coming.” You choked out, the pressure at the pit of your stomach finally breaking. Your pussy fluttering around him, your orgasm taking over your body in pleasure filled spasms.

Yoongi pushes into you harder, his thumb working against your clit as you ride out your high beneath him. Seeing you so fucked out was enough to tether over the edge, in a silent moan, his own orgasm taking over his body, painting your walls with his sticky substance, filling you up to the brink. “G-God, I love you.” He said after he had somewhat composed himself.

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into your body. You didn’t want him to move yet, “I love you too Yoongi.” You whispered leaving innocent pecks against his jawline. He chuckled laying his head against your chest. You brushed his hair away from his face. Both of your chests heaving at the same time, as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Was that okay?” He spoke after a long moment of silence. He rested his chin against your chest looking at you through worrisome eyes. “You don’t hate me anymore right?”

“I never did.” You smiled, making his heart sore, “It was perfect, I missed you...a lot” You added kissing his nose.

“I missed you too, maybe a little too much if I’m being honest. I really am sorry angel.” He cuddled into you further, feeling himself grow soft inside of you. You felt his arousal along with yours slide down your legs and you had to hold back from begging him to take you again and again.

“I know just don’t do it again.”

“I’d be actually crazy if I did.”

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xoxo-teddybear · 4 years ago

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Oh, The Lies You Tell - Bakugou Katsuki - pt. 2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, trauma, abuse, betrayal, fluff, slice of life, smut, cursing, manipulation, possible spoilers, physical harm, 18+

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Ep. Warnings: fluff, childhood trauma, cursing, Bakugou kinda OOC, DADZAWA

Summary: More Bakugou x reader interaction! And Y/N’s first time training with the students and showing off her “quirk.” How will the students react?

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9

Once you saw the familiar blonde, you smiled. “.....hey back, cutie.” You said with confidence. Bakugou only blushed at the comment and sucked his teeth as he rolled his eyes.

“Soo...you’re my escort?” You flirtatiously asked. You can’t help it, it’s just your personality. Plus, after years of villainous work, you had to learn how to speak with a calm and seductive voice to get your way with your victims.

“Yeah, that means I’m stuck with your dumbass for the next few months. So try to keep up and don’t you dare hold me back.” He ferociously said. You just giggled and went to mess with his unbuttoned shirt collar.

“Whatever you say, Fiesty,” as you examined his clothes, you just had to speak up again. “Whattup with the clothes? No tie, no tuck, no....prestigiousness?” Bakugou scoffed at your question.

“Oh yea? Like you’re one to talk. You completely changed your uniform. You realize the girls in UA don’t dress this-“ you cut him off.

“What? Rebellious?”

“I was gonna say hot.”

“That works too.”

“Suits you real well.”

“Oh, I bet it does,” you smirked. During your time throwing spitfire replies to one another, you realized how close both your faces have gotten. You saw ruby eyes, perfect porcelain skin with the perfect amount of tan, soft but fluffy, spiky, blonde hair, and a smirk that copied your own. As Bakugou was too busy admiring your looks, you gently placed two fingers under his chin.....and flicked his head upwards at the sky.

“Hehe...let’s go, Cutie. You gotta show me my dorm, remember? Cant stand here forever staring at me.” You chuckled to yourself.

“I was not doing any of that shitty woman!” Bakugou yelled. As Bakugou did that, Rumor ran right across him making his balance go all outta wack.

“Heh..yeah, sure.” You said as you walked off with Rumor, petting his head. Oh, this is gonna be fun.

——————————————————————————

On the walk to the dorms, you and Bakugou got to know each other quite well. Just the basics though. Favorite music, favorite foods, personality types, likes and dislikes, all that good stuff. You also both shared a little flirtatious banter, not that you minded, however it threw Bakugou off. When the fuck does he ever talk like that? As you both walked up to the entrance you realized something.

“Hey, you never asked me about my quirk. How come?” You asked as you both continued to walk to the doors.

“Don’t need to. I’ll see all I have to see tomorrow during training.” Bakugou said.

“Makes sense.” You replied.

“Of course it does,” He said as he opened the doors to give you a tour. You were in awe. Growing up, you never really had a home before the league. You slept in benches, jail cells, or straight on the ground outside in the rain. But this? Basically luxury to you, but of course you kept up a chill persona.

“This is the common area, kitchens over there, everyone gets their own bathrooms, the showers are that way, and I’ll show you to your dorm,” Bakugou said, giving you the “grand” tour. As you walked up to your room, you saw how already filled it was...but this wasn’t any of your stuff.

“Didn’t realize you were into music like that.” Bakugou said. When you turned to look at your desk, you saw how large it was and how there was a control panel they used at recording studios on it. Set up with it was a microphone that artist used when recording their songs and there was a mini keyboard and acoustic guitar set up on the side. Then it hit you. You had gone over your interest with Mr. Aizawa, guess he filled up the room to make you more comfortable OR to make it seem like you were a normal kid who actually had stuff. In reality, you had nothing but your villain costume (which you demanded to be kept) and Rumor.

“Umm...not really. I just sing a little and enjoy writing little songs. Nothing special really,” you replied to him. “Uh, could you give me a sec? I wanna change out of this uniform and relax a little.” You said to him.

“Yeah, sure. Dinner starts at 6 so be down by then and come meet the rest of the morons.” He said as he backed out the room and walked on to wherever. You began to explore the room. Rumor took comfort on the soft bed, and you looked at the recording area. It was amazing. You strummed the guitar, taking in it’s beautiful sound and dabbled on the keyboard. You then realized.

“Rumor! What am I gonna change in to?! I literally have nothing!” You said as you ran to your closet, astound when you saw the large amount of clothes, along with a little sticky note.

Enjoy the gift, Y/N! Cant wait to have you in class!

- Ms. Midnight

“Midnight, huh? Then these clothes must be hot as fuck!” You excitedly said. Safe to say you put on a little fashion show for yourself and Rumor. As you put on the clothes and made new outfits, you noticed how she had gone for the typical “baddie style.” Lots of ripped jeans, plenty of casual heels, thigh high boots, leather jackets, bomber jackets, crop tops, tube tops, and of course booty shorts. You also noticed the massive amount of jewelry given to you. Plenty of necklaces and anklets. Very pretty.

Once done with your little show, you and Rumor looked at the clock. 5:30.

“I think we should stay in here. Who needs dinner anyways?” Rumor only growled at you. He knew better. You both needed food and you should go down there and make some friends.

“Oh c’mon! We’ve gone days without food before, why not now?” You saw how Rumor gave you this look of ‘because it wasn’t available then’ and you rolled your eyes knowing your friend was right.

“Fineeeeeee,” you reluctantly said as Rumor gave a happy bark and wagged his tail. You changed into some comfortable clothes and went to the common area.

When walking down there, you saw a spikey read head, a tall black haired boy, a girl with long greenish hair, and then you saw Deku, Kaminari, Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugou. While they were talking, the red head took notice of yours and Rumor’s presence.

“Oh! Hey L/N! Rumor! Come join us!” How sweet of him to include Rumor. As you both walked towards a single open seat on a solo couch seat, you saw how everyone had their eyes set on you with a smile.

“Umm....hey.” You nervously let out with a small laugh. As you tried to settle, Rumor placed his head on your lap to calm you down and Bakugou took notice of this.

“Would you idiots stop staring at her like that? She’s obviously kinda nervous.” Bakugou said with his head thrown back on the couch. The red head then spoke up to agree.

“Oh right! Sorry about that L/N!” He said kindly.

“No, it’s no trouble. And you guys can quit the formalities and just call me Y/N. I don’t mind!” You sweetly said.

“Alright then, nice to meet you Y/N! I’m Eijirou Kirishima, this is Hanta Sero, and Tsuyu Asui. I’ve heard you already met these guys, and I’ve also heard you got Bakugou as your escort!” Bakugou growled at Kirishima for mentioning that.

“Yeah! He’s kinda.....bratty?” You teased. Bakugou only looked at you with wide angry eyes and a small blush.

“Ha, yeah. Bakubro can be a brute, but when you get to know the guy, you find out he’s just a big ole softie with rough ways.” He joked.

“I AIN’T SOFT SHITTY HAIR!” Bakugou screamed. The group just giggled and watch the interaction go on. You guys talked and laughed and they got to know about you and Rumor a little better. Finally, a girl with a black ponytail came in.

“Hey guys! Dinner’s ready! Oh! And L/N, we made 2 steaks for Rumor. I hope you don’t mind.” She said.

“Oh not at all! Thanks you guys, that was really sweet of you.” Rumor understood what was going on just by the scent in the air and he was excited. As you all walked to the table and took ur seats, everyone got to talking again. Dinner went on and Rumor was enjoying his steaks.

“Man..what a lucky dog. Steak for dinner.” Kirishima spoke. Everyone chuckled and continued on. The girl with the pony tail, who you learned was nicknamed Momo, walked in with a final pot.

“Okay you guys! This is the final dish! Just some Miso soup to peck on. Kaminari, can you go and grab the ladel?” As the blonde walked away, everyone was excited for the dish.

“Sorry guys, the soup is a little too hot. You should wait for it to cool down before digging in,” Momo said apologetically.

“Oh hey, no worries, I have a solution!” You said as you made a tiny little tornado with you air bending and sent it to the pot of soup on the table to cool it down. The massive amount of steam was clearly decreased and everyone thanked you.

“So your quirk is tiny tornadoes?” Bakugou whispered to you as he was the one sitting next to you.

“No, you dummy.” You giggled until you heard a crack. Everyone looked over and saw Kaminari broke the one and only ladel. Everyone booed and sighed at the loss of miso soup and the poor blonde just apologized with a nervous smile.

“It’s fine you guys, we don’t need a ladel. Who wants some miso?” You asked and everyone raised their hands. So, you used your water bending to pick up the soup give some to all your classmates. Everyone was confused but impressed.

“Okay, what the hell is your quirk?” Bakugou asked in confusion.

“You’ll find out soon, Cutie.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied back.

It was safe to say the new nickname left you in shock with some blush and you noticed everyone stopped eating to look at you both.

“........huh?!” The group simultaneously said with blank and confused faces as Bakugou yelled at them saying they heard nothing.

——————————————————————————

The next day the students met up with Mr. Aizawa wearing any comfortable gym/fighting attire. Instead of meeting at Gym Gamma, the teacher took his students out to the Sports Festival Areana. The students all buzzed with excitement, most only wanting to know the new student’s quirk and fight style.

“Okay, today we’ll be doing sparring matches. We’ve paired you all up based on skill level and experience. One battle at a time. Whoever makes it to the top 3, those students are excused from classes tomorrow. Get warmed up, take your seats, and I’ll call up the first two fighters.” Mr. Aizawa spoke.

The students were ready. Everyone was, but no one was prepared for you. They never saw your fight style, never saw you use your quirk for battle, never even saw you pick a fight. This’ll be interesting.

“Okay bud, since it’s a 1v1, you’re benched.” You spoke to Rumor. He whined at the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any action but nonetheless, listened to his best friend. “Oh don’t give me that sass, why don’t you go talk to Kirishima or Bakugou while I’m in battle. Fair?” Rumor huffed at you, but you took it as compliance.

“Hey, Princess.”

You turned to who called you and saw Bakugou and what appeared to be his little posse following him. It consisted of Kirishima, Sero, Kaminari, and Mina.

“Oh hey guys. What’s up?” You asked.

“We’re all pumped up to see your quirk! Those tricks you did during dinner last night had us all coming up with ideas on what it could be.” Mina squealed. “I guessed substance manipulation.”

“Telekinesis,” Kirishima said

“Weather powers,” Sero guessed

“Food control!” Kaminari answered. Oh what a piece of work that one is. Everyone looked at the fool with raised brows.

“Heh...guess not.” The goofy boy said with a scratch to his head. You all laughed and you looked towards Bakugou waiting for him to answer.

“Well..what’s your guess, Cutie?” You looked towards Bakugou as he just stared at you.

“Elements,” he said calmly. That shocked you. Who knew someone was gonna guess. Well, he was still wrong considering it wasn’t really a quirk but yeah.

“Just a guess. I’ll figure it out once I see you fight.” He added on.

“Oh yeah! Mr. Aizawa pairs us up based on skill level and experience! We’ll get to know more about how you fight based on your partner.” Mina said.

As the group continued talking, Mr. Aizawa finally came to speak up.

“Okay, listen up. I’m sure you’re all curious as to what L/N is able to do, so our first match we’ll be L/N vs. Todoroki.” Everyone had their jaws drop. Shoto Todoroki?!? He was one of the top students in the class in both intelligence and physical skill. He is an excellent fight with a powerful quirk. How the hell are you supposed to win. You only smirked and walked up to the fighting area. As you walked, a pair of red eyes followed you.

‘What the hell can this chick do?’ Bakugou thought to himself.

As you and Todoroki met in the middle facing each other with Mr. Aizawa in between you both, he spoke up.

“Okay, here are the rules......there are none. The match will begin when you hear the buzzer go off. You’ll hear 3 beeps then a ring, then you can spar. You can use your quirk at any level, do whatever you may please, do whatever it takes to win. The match stops when one of you falls off the square or is knocked out and unable to continue fighting. Understand?” He said while looking at both of you and speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. You both nodded your heads but Mr. Aizawa looked at you with a more stern stare.

“Do you understand, Y/N?” He asked once more. You nodded your head and waited for him to start the match. He walked off the field and went to sit with the class. They all stared in anticipation. Bakugou focused his eyes on you.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Ring!

At the first second, Todoroki used his left side to throw some fire your way. At the sight of the burning flames you only smirked and extended your hand. Everyone watched you do, what they thought was, nothing. They only saw you stand there.

“Y/N DO SOMETHING!” Bakugou screamed in fear of you getting hurt.

When the flames came close enough, you used your fire bending to move them around your body and attack Todoroki. The boy had a quick reaction and sent an ice wall towards you. Perfect. You ran to the ice coming your way and turned it into water, which you used to push back Todoroki, closer to the edge. You sent fire his way and he ran at you, dodging it and attempting to strike you. You flipped away from him. Everyone saw how acrobatic you were. When he came closer once more to punch you, you turned to you side and struck his right shoulder, paralyzing his arm.

Todoroki screamed in shock and pain as he realized he couldn’t feel his arm. He sent more fire to you, in which you used your air bending to put the flames out. You used your earth bending to lift the area that Todoroki was standing on into the air, as he flew through the air, you blasted fire from your feet to get up in the air and blasted him with a gust of wind that knocked him out the area of the square. When he fell to the ground, he hit the field instead of the square, meaning he lost. You fell closer to the concrete but used your fire to slow down before you could crash. Once you landed you looked around for Aizawa.

Beeeeeeeepppppp!!

“That’s the match. L/N wins.” You looked around and everyone still sat in shock. Nobody even clapped. They just looked so....impressed? Kaminari was in the middle of petting Rumor and when he stopped, Rumor noticed the match was over and saw you standing. He howled to cheer for you as everyone ran down to say something. As the crowd came up to you, you were hit with compliments.

As the class continued to hype you up, you saw how Bakugou still just stared at you. You walked over to him.

“Impressed?” You asked.

“......you’re good.” Bakugou still said in slight shock. You only laughed at his answer. You knew he thought more, but you weren’t gonna push him. Every one saw Todoroki get up and limp towards you.

“L/N....that was a great fight. You’re incredibly skilled.” He complimented.

“Thank you Todoroki. And please, I told you to call me Y/N.” You kindly said

“Right, of course...ah.” He hissed in pain. You felt bad for how hard you went on him.

“Here..let me just,” you took the moisture in the air and took water out of it. You used it to heal up Todoroki’s injuries and soothe his pain. “Feel better?”

“Very much, yes. Thank you.” He said.

“No problem, but your arm is a different story. I temporarily paralyzed it with my dim mak fighting style. It’ll take some minutes for it to come back fully.” You explained.

“Okay. That was really impressive. I had no idea there was a fighter like you.” He said once again.

“Whats dim mak?” Kirishima asked.

“It’s the fighting style I use. It’s attacks a person’s pressure points with quick and sharp jabs. It paralyzes a person or just a limb for a good hour depending on how hard I hit.” You replied.

“Pressure points?” Kaminari asked.

“They’re the parts in your body where you’re sensitive and can be detained when they’re hit. With that, it means I know the human body like the back of my hand. Thanks to that I’ve come up with a skill called Chi Blocking.” You explained.

“What’s that?” Mina asked.

“Something you’ll all find out about the next time Y/N fights. Until then, let’s have Todoroki get to recovery girl and let’s continue the matches.” Aizawa said. As everyone went to their seat and Aizawa called up Iida and Aoyama, Bakugou asked you a few questions.

“What the fuck was that?!” He asked.

“What?” You giggled.

“The fucking fire, and the wind, and you moved rocks and you turned his ice into water!!” He spasmed out.

“Uh huh...” you said with a smile and raised brow.

“A-and the flips! You flip and did a bunch of acrobatic tricks, and the jabs, the “dim mak,” it was- I was- it was-.......HUH” he exclaimed.

“Not like Bakugou to freak out over a fight like that. What happened to Mr. Cool Guy?” Denki said.

“You shut your mouth, Sparky!” Bakugou threatened. “Look, all I’m tryna ask is..how and when did you learn all of this? Your quirk is crazy OP, and your fighter skill is insane! Appreciate that bullshit cuz I don’t say shit like that often.”

You just laughed and sighed. You weren’t sure how to answer his question. “Umm,” you started “I don’t really know...I just-“ you were cut off by a mouse. Principle Nezu, you remembered him.

“Mr. Aizawa?” The peppy mouse asked.

“Yes?” Aizawa replied.

“May I speak with you? Concerning your new student and her transfers. There’s been a few complications with her paperwork that need to be solved.” He politely asked.

“Yes, I understand sir. Class, free day. Head back to your dorms but be sure to get in an hour and a half of training today. That’ll be all. Dismissed.” The pro said as he followed the principle. As students gathered to leave and head back to the dormitory, Bakugou stopped you.

“Hey, wait. You still gotta tell me how you learned all this, Princess.” He said.

“What’s there to say?” You awkwardly laughed out. “Uh..I discovered my...quirk.. while doing some work-“

“Work as a child?” Bakugou asked.

“Sorta. I discovered it there and then..I met someone who trained me how to fight like that.” You explained.

“Your parents must be really proud.” Bakugou slightly smiled.

“Umm..yeah, I bet they are.” You said kind of skiddish.

“I can imagine the look on their faces when they saw the pretty impressive quirk you got. My parents were pretty shocked too with mine.” He added on.

“Oh really? You can imagine their faces?” You laughed out nervously. ‘I sure can’t,’ you thought to yourself.

“I mean yeah. Parents usually....” you drowned him out. Parents...parents...parents...PARENTS. You snapped.

“Bakugou!” You said with tone. “I don’t have or know my parents....” you said as he stopped talking and dropped his jaw to the ground. Before he could say anything, you bit your lips, called Rumor to go, and left, leaving Bakugou in regret.

As you ran with slight tears in your eyes, you told Rumor to change into a giant wolf. He shifted and you hopped on him.

“Let’s go to the spot, Rumor.” You said as he took off.

——————————————————————————

When Rumor arrived at ‘The Spot’ you settled. The spot was beautiful. Tall trees, beautiful plants, plenty of adorable creatures, and a gorgeous pond right in the middle of it all. You layed against a tree as Rumor placed you down so you could stop your tears and he transformed back into his wolf-dog form and cuddled up against you.

“No parents...” you said aloud. Although sad you never really got to experience or meet your parents or what it’s like to have them or a family, you were conflicted. Yes it was sad not having parents or a family, but you never had one so it’s hard to tell how you feel about the topic. As the thoughts ran through your mind, your eyes glowed a bright white and when you opened them, you weren’t at the spot anymore.

“Hello....?” You said as you looked around. “Helloooo...?? Anyone there?”

“Welcome back to the spirit world, Y/N.” When you turned to your side, you were in awe.

“Avatar Korra!” You bowed to show respect but then went to hug your spiritual mentor. She embraced you with wide arms. She’s always been the friendly, open, optimistic type. “What am I doing here, Korra?”

“Why do you think you’re here, Y/N?” She said with a sly smile and hands on her hips, but beaming eyes.

“My parents?” You questioned but she only shook her head.

“Your path.” Korra stated.

“My path?” You asked.

“Yes. Or more so, the path you choose.” She corrected.

“I don’t understand.” You said.

As Korra continued to smile at you, you both stood still as the world shifted. You looked around and saw the LOV hideout.

“The league? I don’t understand, what does my path have to do with them?” You questioned, but before she said anything, the world shifted once more and you were infront of UA’s building.

“The school?....Oh, this isn’t some typa light and dark thing, is it?” You asked Korra.

“It is.” She replied back.

“Ugghhhh, we’ve been through this. I’m a bad person. I could never fit in with those goodie two shoes! I’m a member of the league of villains! Not heroes. My path is the darkness.” You stated.

“Is it? You weren’t born into darkness.” Korra said.

“What?....”

“Y/N, you’re not a bad person. Your a villain because of survival. That’s the life that you know. That’s the life that you were kidnapped into.” Korra began.

“Yeah but-“

“But nothing. You know in your heart you would much rather be a hero than some low life villain!” Korra exclaimed.

“No I couldn’t. They’re too good. I could never be that great. Hell, I’m on a plan to take down UA right now!” You said.

“And are you doing that because you want to? Or is it because you think the league is gonna torture you any less if you succeed......you don’t wanna take down the heroes. You wanna be like them.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I can’t!”

“But you can. You can be all these amazing things, but you’re just on the wrong path with the wrong people. All you have to do is make the choice to leave them. You want to be good, Y/N. It’s in your nature. You’re the avatar after all. It’s your destiny to bring peace to the world.”

Once Korra had said that, a flash came and you were back in the spot. You gasped as you returned and shook your head. You saw it had gotten dark now and figured it was best if you headed back. You woke up Rumor and asked him to become a giant wolf again. He shifted and brought you back to UA. Along the walk, you couldn’t help but think back to what Korra said.

“My path......light or dark...” you looked down at your palms and squeezed them shut in frustration. You huffed and looked ahead, and saw you arrived at the front of the dorms. Standing there, waiting for you, Mr. Aizawa.

“Welcome back.” He said to you.

“Hi...” you blankly said as you attempted to get past him. However, he stopped you from going in.

“Not so fast, we need to speak first before anything else.” He stated

“What about? Because I’ve had a really long and kinda frustrating day, and I don’t need some bullshit to fuck it up even more. I mean, I’m so aggravated that I-“ a piece of paper dangling in your face shut you up.

“What are those?” You asked the hero.

“Adoption papers. I’m now your legal guardian.” Aizawa stated.

“.........HUHHHHH?!?!???” There was no way this was happening. It couldn’t be. You??? Adopted??? By a pro hero??? One that you almost killed???

“Okay, I’m sorry but I don’t need a guardian. I’ve been by myself, on my own, the second I was born. No family raised me, no motherly figure, no nothing. It’s just been me, the spirits, and the villain who took care of me till I was, what, 5? And then kicked me out and left me stranded. I’ve been surviving on my own for over a decade, I don’t need you to look out for me.” You exclaimed.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t be an annoying parent, I’m just your legal guardian. You’re still underage, meaning you’ll need permission for certain things to continue to move forward.” He explained to you. You thought about it, and damn it, he was right. If you wanted to go about this whole thing the legal way, you’d need this.

“.....Fine. Just don’t tell me what to do dAD,” you sarcastically said.

“I’m your guardian and teacher now, I can tell you whatever I want, brat. Now get inside, you’re past curfew.” He said but you only squinted your eyes at him in disbelief. Did he really give you a curfew?

“Student curfew. You live in the dorms, all students have to be in this building by 10:30,” he explained. You just scoffed and went inside with Rumor.

“Guess I have a dad now, Rumor.” You sighed. You never had a father before. It warmed your heart a little, but then you remembered he wasn’t really your dad. Just a guardian. As you walked into the common area, you saw the lights were out. The students must’ve been in their dorms. You walked to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading to bed but you saw Bakugou sitting there with a water bottle in hand. He seemed kinda bummed out. You cleared your voice to get his attention and when he looked up at you, you told Rumor to head to the room.

“Y-Y/N! Hey!..” he said to you.

“Heh..hi Bakugou...Umm..I’m sorry about the whole..running away thing. I just needed to clear my head a little.” You said as you took the seat next to him.

“No, don’t apologize. I’m.....i-.....I’m sorry for pushing you about the whole parent thing. I didn’t know.” He apologized. You only shook your head and stared at your hands before speaking up.

“It’s fine. How could you know? After all, I’ve only been here for 2 days. Besides, you didn’t really upset me, it’s just..I feel kinda outta place when the parent topic comes up. Guess I just freaked out,” you saw the look on his face. Disappointment. Is he that upset that hurt you? Or at least thought he did? “B-but don’t worry! I’m fine! For real! I’ve been parent-less for almost my entire life so it doesn’t sting like that. Hehe..wow Umm. Depressing. You know I feel like I’m rambling, am I rambling? Should I stop? I think I should shut up, or maybe I’m just gonna go now that I-“ Bakugou placed his hand on yours which shut you up real quick. You looked up at his face as he stared into your eyes.

“You can talk to me about it you know. It’s clear you wanna get some things off your chest and I’m really interested in you.” You raised your brow at that last sentence. He realized what he said and quickly tried to correct himself.

“I mean- uh- not like that, or um it could be like that! It could be, if you’re cool with that. But it’s not, or maybe, i don’t know, it’s not it’s, I was, it was, I- yeah I’m gonna stop talking now.” He cleared his throat at the end of that, settling down. You giggled and reassured him.

“No, no it’s fine. I really don’t mind. Umm, what do you wanna know. I’m fine with sharing anything.” You said.

“Okay, let’s just continue with this parent topic then....how were you raised?” He asked. This scared you. You had to be real careful with your choice of words or else your cover would be blown.

“Okay, let’s see. I was born in a place-“

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Shuddup,” you laughed and playfully hit his shoulder.

“And that place was..very private. Very unknown, but my parents Umm, i don’t really know what happened to them. The earliest thing I can remember is that..someone found me and told me my parents were gone, they weren’t my real family, they just took me in because they couldn’t let a baby die, and raised me till I was 5.” You said.

“And then?” He asked.

“You sure? It just goes down hill from here.” You warned. But he only nodded and asked for you to continue. You looked at your hands in your lap before continuing.

“I was kicked out. Left on the streets. I slept on park benches, in alleyway tunnels, on rooftops of buildings. I pawned for food and..” you didn’t know if you should admit the next part. But Bakugou held onto your hand and asked for more.

“And then?” He questioned.

“.....I did what I had to do to survive. I committed crimes, but I had to live. I was just a child and didn’t know what to do. If you look at me any different for what I did though, I won’t judge you.” You said. He squeezed your hand almost as if he was telling you he understood. He nodded and pleaded for more.

“After 2 years on the streets, a cult found me. An evil and dark cult. They used their quirks to torture people they kidnapped and made them slaves to create weapons. They kept us in cells and chains, working 24/7. It was there that I learned of my abilities. I found out I could control the 4 elements and their sub-elements. There, I also met a master. He was old and couldn’t fight anymore, but he saw the potential in me and taught me dim mak in the shadows. After a year of being enslaved there and secretly training, these people (the LOV) came in and killed the cult members and stole some of their weapons and destroyed the rest. Once I saw them taking down those horrible people, I used my abilities and they saw. I guess I impressed them and they recruited me to join their little family. I’ve been with them ever since. But then I met Mr. Aizawa and he asked me to join UA. Since the group I joined wasn’t really family, I didn’t need their permission. They were more like friends and they were even the ones who pushed me to come here.” You finished up your little story and saw Bakugou looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“And now I’m here! Sitting in a dim kitchen at UA with a cute boy at 11:00 p.m.” you said trying to cheer up the mood. “Bakugou...”

“You’re not..affected? By everything you’ve been through?”

“You don’t have to feel bad!”

“But I do! You’re here! You’re not...”

“Dead?” You teased.

“Basically!” You laughed at that.

“Y/N, I’m serious!” Bakugou tried to say.

“And so am I! You don’t have to be upset. I value everything I went through, all the good and bad.” You explained.

“Why?” He asked.

“Because it made me the kickass baddie that I am today!” You said flipping your hair and laughing. “Seriously though! Everything I went through made me who I am. It’s made me stronger, more independent. It lets me know I can handle myself. So I’m good, you don’t have to worry.” You said grabbing onto his hand again and reassuring him. He used his thumb to rub at your hand and enjoy the feeling.

“You are...probably the strongest person I’ve ever met.” He said calmly with a small SMALL smile on his face as he looked at you.

“I’ll also bet that I’m also the only “criminal” that you look like you wanna kiss.” You playfully said.

“Maybe I do...” he said with a smirk and soft voice as he leaned in closer.

“And maybe I’ll let you..” you said as you leaned in. As you two got closer and closer, your eyes filled with daze and the world around you two fell apart. It was just you and him in that moment. Until it was ruined. Just as your lips were about to touch, Mr. Aizawa came in.

“Hey!” He shouted

“GAH!” You both screamed and jumped away from each other with a blush adoring both your faces. Aizawa walked up to both of you, shoving the adoption papers in bakugou’s face.

“No smooching with my newly adopted daughter!” He said with a stern voice.

“I’m not your daughter! You’re just my guardian and it only happened like a few hours ago!” You stated.

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t kiss, old man.” Bakugou said.

“Listen you little punk! I outta...” then Bakugou and your teacher were now going at it, yelling over each other and saying whatever, completely leaving you outta the conversation. You let out a little gust of wind to shut them up and get their attention.

“Okay, it’s late, tomorrow is Saturday, so you two won’t have to see each other, MAYBE, for 2 days. Can we just let this whole thing cool over?” You asked.

“We can, I’m just annoyed at the fact that this dynamite stick was gonna steal my daughter away from me!” Aizawa complained.

“I wasn’t stealing her, I was-“

“STOLEEEEEEE” Aizawa corrected and Bakugou just sucked his teeth and looked around.

“Whatever, can we just let it go?” You asked again. They nodded and you all went your separate way. Except for the fact that once Aizawa was outta sight, Bakugou went running right back to you and walked you to your dorm.

“Sooo..about that kiss.” Bakugou said. You just giggled and opened the door to your room.

“Goodnight, Bakugou,” you said but as you were about to walk in, he said something else.

“Katsuki.”

“Huh?” You said looking back at him.

“Katsuki. It’s my name. You can call me Katsuki.” He explained.

“Wow, trust me that much?” You teased.

“You trusted me enough to open up, this is the least I could do.” He said. You smiled and corrected yourself.

“Okay then...goodnight, Katsuki.” You said smiling. He pulled you in by your waists and held you close as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He said and walked off.

A/N: Ok Cubs! That was the second part and in here we got to see the spirit world! We’re intorduced to Avatar Korra and we’ve discovered Y/N is the present avatar! How do we feel about this? Good? Bad? Let me know!!! I hope your enjoying the story so far. I know it’s kinda weird and all outta disorder but this is my personal day dream that I wanna bring to life that I’m hoping some of you enjoy. It’s just a jumble of avatar elements with a BNHA/MHA base. Please be patient with me! I know this is a Bakugou x Reader fic but it is also a story. It’s gonna grow and build and once we establish the basics, more Bakugou x Reader issues will show up along the way! I hope you’ve liked it so far! See you next time! 💗🧸

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saladejin · 4 years ago

Text

Lost & Found | Jimin (M)

Jimin x Fem!Reader | s2f2l au, (ex)-policeman!Jimin, vetnurse!Reader | fluff, meet-cute, (emphasis on) hurt/comfort, angst and heavy angst, found families, slight humour, mentions of other members

Summary: You’ve essentially spent your whole life working around dogs, through sickness and through health, but one memorable encounter at the park has you thinking ‘why not one more?’

Or, maybe it’s not the dog that needs help, but rather the beautiful yet reserved man with honey blonde hair at his side. Perhaps, rather than dogs and cats, you need to start learning how to heal people. Maybe then you can start to heal yourself too.

Warnings: tw // (mental health, descriptions of death - no major, descriptions of abandonment - not by main characters, absent parents) // Descriptions of traumatic experiences, mental health issues/struggles (depression, anxiety), minor character death, hurt/comfort, mental breakdowns / resolved breakdowns. Only the tiniest, vaguest references to suicide - basically nothing.

- semi non-descriptive smut, fooling around in the pool, kissing, touching, fucking ... plenty of cussing lol

Word Count: 18.6k (hahahha kill me)

A/N: Okay so here is my entry for the Ghostie Network’s ‘Dynamite Dads’ event, and it’s a bit late oops! I wasn’t really feeling up to write Jimin as a dad with an actual human baby, but I did the next best thing and gave him a gorgeous pupper who he basically treats as his own child ... enjoy :)

The genre was FLUFF, and my trope was ‘found family’. I promise you there is definitely some fluff to pay off for the angst. I feel ok saying it’s nothing too extreme, 🥺 but please heed the warnings and don’t hate me too much for the pain hehe

There will be a sequel, so this will most likely end up being a two-shot. You’ll see what I mean :)

<< masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Jimin knows from the very moment he opens his eyes to the sound of 6 a.m. birdsong, that today would be it. His last day.

He drags himself from bed, all fluffed up hair and puffy eyes, shrugging on the same dark navy uniform he’s worn for the past five years. He blinks away the sleep clutching at his eyelids, trying his best to prevent the flashing colours behind them from focusing into memories.

Perhaps they were a lingering dream, flooded with the distant sounds of wailing sirens and a snarling canine, but thankfully they vanish with one brisk shake of his head.

Snarling swiftly changes into a gentle whine, and Jimin raises his head with a troubled sigh to see Mandu sniffing by his bedroom door. His best friend, his companion, and most of all his boy. Jimin’s cheeks lift in a small smile, and the dog with a pelt of rich fawn brightens instantly, tail thumping the wall in innocent glee at seeing his handler’s eyes shine.

“Morning, bud.”

Not two hours later, Jimin’s sitting just outside the chief’s office. He waits with downcast eyes, fiddling with his fingers to ward away the nerves and anxiety causing his heartbeat to pick up speed.

He knows how it looks; he knows that everyone there can see through him and his firm expression. He’s never been good at hiding emotions very well, despite society’s expectation that anyone working in the law enforcement sphere should. No, not him, and that’s exactly why he has to leave it all behind.

“Officer Park…”

The chief’s eyes are not upset, angry or surprised by the news, but rather concerned. Jimin swallows his guilt down heavily, knowing full well that he has every right to do what he’s doing. He fights the urge to comb his fingers through his soft honey blonde hair, or the instinctual need to scratch at his own neck from the sheer distress of it all.

“Park, is it because of yesterday?”

That simple phrase was all it took to send him reeling back.

Flashing colours and background noise burst into focus, and Jimin suddenly finds himself reliving everything. Heavy well-worn boots thudding against the road slick with fresh rain, the sound of shrieking sirens all around, piercing his eardrums like knives. His lungs constricting, burning, with need for air as he follows Mandu into the darkness of the alley.

“Jung! Jung, where-”

Jimin can barely hear himself think above the clatter, the vicious snarling and gnashing of teeth against flesh being the only sound keeping him grounded. He has a job to do, and he’ll see it through to the end even if it costs him his life. He cocks his pistol and carefully peers around the corner of the dimly lit alleyway, hoping that the pathetic cries of the criminal under attack means that the coast is somewhat clear.

Anxiety bubbles up in his chest, for his partner and his boy, but he knows he can’t let his worry for them cloud his judgement now, of all times.

“Drop your weapon now!” he shouts above the noise, rounding the corner to apprehend the man currently locked into a bloody fight with his K-9 counterpart, desperately kicking and shoving to try and escape the ferociously snapping jaw knocking him down.

To Jimin’s relief, the weapon in question had been thrown down with a clatter amidst the man’s struggle, the gun still rotating slightly in its place from the force of its projection.

Then his bones freeze up when he watches the shiny object come to rest by a steel-capped boot, a boot so familiar to his eyes because it’s the exact same one he wears.

It’s Jung. Slumped against the wall, unmoving, unseeing … blood pools everywhere around him, and the iron-tinged smell hits Jimin right in the face until he can barely stand to breathe. “H-Hoseok, no…”

Mandu’s growls bring him crashing down to Earth, and Jimin’s pulled the trigger before he can even think twice about his actions. In the back of his mind, he knows he’s trained unconditionally to aim for non-fatal points on the human body, but right then and there, through the crimson haze of his fury, he wished he’d been able to do it.

Avenge him.

“Park…”

“Officer Park? Are you with me?”

Jimin gasps lightly, blinking his eyes to chase away the all-too-fresh memory from his mind yet again. His bottom lip is clamped so hard between his teeth, he wonders if the iron taste of blood in his mouth had actually been more than imagination. The superior officer sat at the desk in front of him nods solemnly.

“Park Jimin, I understand completely. I can’t stop you…”

The chief’s voice fades into the background as Jimin lets his thoughts wander once more, but he soon feels the darkness eating away at him again. The inner demons, the pain and suffering, because everyone leaves you, Jimin. The cycle repeats, you let yourself love then you let yourself lose.

“The … adoption of ‘Mandu’ as you’ve stated here, has already been finalised. We’re glad to see a long serving canine of our force retire to a responsible home. Thank you, Park.”

“Of course, Chief.”

The older man sighs and gives Jimin a once-over, clearly recognising that the man before him needs time to heal, however long that may be. Jimin feels it too, deep within his heart, his mind, and his very soul. This was it. He could finally hide. He could finally stop inflicting all this pain on himself and push it back to the deepest corners of his mind, where it would remain untouched.

“We thank you for your service, please hand in your badge and equipment by the end of the week.”

~ three months later ~

“That’s it for the day!”

Muscles aching and eyes watering from a yawn, you peel the stretchy gloves from your hands with a grimace. The sweaty feeling lingers on your skin long after throwing the disgusting things in the trash. It’s only after you shed your nurse scrubs and lanyard that you remember you aren’t quite ready to finish up.

“(Y/n), you just have to take Jessie out for a bit before you go,” your colleague calls, much to your chagrin at the reminder. It’s been a long day at the veterinary clinic, and even if vet nursing wasn’t quite as strenuous of a job as legitimate veterinarian work, it still sapped a decent amount of energy.

God, you just want nothing more than to go home to your warm bed, and your fluffball cat. Instead, you pack away your uniform and grab a leash to prepare for the walk.

“C’mon girl,” you coo gently to the old border collie resting in her cage. There was an immense pride in the way the clinic took care of its sick and injured animals, and that included exercising the dogs every single day without fail. You absolutely loved it, loved your job and everything it entailed.

Ten minutes later, you’re letting the gate to the local park click shut behind you.

The dog park is remarkably busy today, you muse after letting Jessie off her leash for a run. Inside the spacious area – fenced off nicely with grasses delightfully green from the Spring air – are dogs and puppies of various shapes, sizes and colours bounding around each-other like ping pong balls.

You can’t suppress a snort of amusement as a particularly handsome pooch catches your eye, something akin to a German Shepherd though not quite as large. Your eyes follow the energetic bundle of energy as he darts around the group of dogs, chasing them and nipping at their heels to keep them controlled, just how he likes it.

It was inevitable that Jessie would soon join in, and you can only let out knowing sigh at the sight of the beautiful collie’s eyes lighting up with that familiar fire; a flame that had remained dormant for many, many years within her ageing mind. She takes off and rounds up the strays of the flock, arthritis in her joints long forgotten as her instincts to chase and collect take over entirely.

“Mandu, why…”

A breathy sigh escapes the person standing barely a metre away from where you sit on the park bench, and you finally take a moment to observe the other dog owners milling around this sector of the park. Their eyes are wide in confusion as they witness the spectacle happening before them, but you’re brought back to the man closest to you as he lets out another disappointed click of his tongue.

“It’s normal with herding breeds,” you find yourself saying through a fond smile, though your socially awkward inner self wants to kick you in the ass for it. The man, who looks as though he’d been about to jump in to collect his zippy companion, falters in his motion to regard you in surprise.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just been a while since my boy’s done it.” He rubs at his neck self-consciously, eyes glancing around to see if anyone’s thrown him a dirty or judgemental look already. From your place on the wooden seat, you can easily catch the way the sunlight caresses the man’s unique features, the worn-out sneakers and running wear telling you that he comes this way often to exercise.

He clears his throat. “You…”

As he trails off, somehow losing confidence halfway through his sentence, you feel that familiar pang of embarrassment that comes with talking to strangers. “Mine’s the collie, so I know I should probably step in too.” You laugh quietly, instantly breaking eye-contact when he holds your stare for a second too long.

He was stunning, to say the least, with incredibly soft looking caramel hair swept back from his face, and pillowy looking lips that were large, but fitting when placed together with his smooth sloping cheekbones and an elegant jawline. His eyes, though, were tired. They were so tired, and you knew exactly what it felt like to leave home every day when you were … that emotionally exhausted.

At your comment, the man breaks into a grin, because well … you’re in the same boat here. He’s probably relieved that you hadn’t lectured him on dog behaviour or keeping his pet in check, or something like that. Nope, turns out you were just as liberal as he was.

You get to your feet, trying to inwardly shake the tingling in your chest from the sight of his lips curling into a smile alone, and jostle the leash in your hand to try and get your playful lady’s attention.

When that didn’t work, you let out a loud whistle and hope that the slight burning sensation travelling up the back of your neck would fade away soon. Although, you knew that as long as the curious man kept his eyes trained on you, it would persist. “Jessie, here girl.”

The beautiful stranger follows suit, but to your shock he barely has to make any noise, just a simple gesture and briskly spoken word before his responsive dog is sitting to attention at his feet. Ears pricked and warm canine eyes focusing on his owner as if nothing else in the world would ever matter as much as he did in that moment. You quickly look up to catch a glimpse of the man’s face once more, and the love now swimming in his gaze as he ruffles the dog’s pointy ears was nothing short of breathtaking.

You should go now.

You utter a tiny ‘bye’ as you take your leave, not even sure that the captivating man is able to hear you over the way he’s currently trying to scold his tawny-furred dog in a soft, gentle tone. A stern voice that still made it obvious just how endeared he was behind the annoyed façade.

You glance down to where Jess pads quietly on the pavement beside you, her black and white wavy pelt somewhat tousled from the exertion and her tongue lolling out in pure elation after stretching her legs. Sunlight, a blinding smile, caramel blonde hair…

How were you supposed to think of anything else now?

Three days pass, and you’re back in the clinic. Work is piling up, and you’re basically booked out thanks to a spontaneous outbreak of ‘Kennel Cough’ throughout nearby shelters. How the infectious disease spread to not one, but two localised areas, nobody knew.

“Someone must have taken their dog to all of them, or maybe had it transferred mid-vacation,” you growl to Dr. Kim, lining the antibiotics up on the med table after checking the clipboard thoroughly. Healthy vaccinated dogs would be fine, perhaps a tad sickly for a week or two, but puppies and those with immune deficiencies? Out of luck unfortunately.

“I’ve scheduled the radiographs for the most affected,” Dr. Kim informs, and you’re in a right mind to believe he’s only trying to reassure you right now. He sighs and flashes you a weary smile, age-lines prominent around his kind features thanks to the recent months of stress. “Hopefully we can rule out any pneumonia. You’re free to go on break by the way, Nurse (L/n).”

At the word ‘break’, you feel dread crash through your body like a heavy wave. Shit, had you forgotten to bring lunch today? A wishful image floats through your head of the delicately tossed Greek salad you’d prepared the night before, only problem being that it was still wrapped neatly in the fridge at home.

“Damn it,” you mutter, planting a forced smile on your face when the older doctor eyes you worriedly at the soft outburst. “Sorry, I’ll need to head out today.”

You can’t stop internally punching yourself for being forgetful, knowing that it’ll cost you precious time to walk to the nearest eateries and back. Perhaps if you owned a car, you’d be able to savour those few extra minutes of relaxing during your break.

Nope, it’s walking for you now. Idiot.

So off you go. The route is pleasantly quiet for the most part, with the sun slowly beginning to warm the leaves on trees as they protect their newly forming flower buds. There’s the incessant yet melodic chirping of birds while they scourge the nearby plants for food, either for themselves or their young. It was easy to stop and appreciate the various signs of revival and rebirth around you, but maybe not today.

Today, you had too much to worry about and too much weighing you down. There were so many helpless animal lives that were going to be lost, all because of one person and their ignorance. You had to come to terms with death fairly quickly when entering this line of work, but that didn’t make it any easier as time passed by.

Especially for someone like you.

You come to a sudden stop and blink your eyes firmly. The painted sign that blocks your path display the words ‘DOG PARK’ in all capitals, and it throws you off guard completely. You’d … somehow taken this heavy of a detour? Well, you suppose it could be worse, and the park did have another entrance on the far side you can use to somehow shortcut your way into town, but you can’t shake your confusion until ah.

There he is. The dog park guy, standing slightly off the well-trodden path. He’s dressed in a casual grey tee shirt and comfy matte black shorts this time, effortlessly showing off the defined muscles of his calves as he bends down to retrieve a bright green frisbee. He then flings it so high into the air, you doubt even his wonderfully enthusiastic dog will be able to catch up to it.

But when the well-built canine does in fact manage to clamp his teeth down on the airborne toy, you only manage to pick your jaw up off the floor after a handful of shellshocked moments. Some special kind of training had become evident in the way the animal springs off its hind legs with such intensity.

Right, you should stop staring like a maniac and keep walking.

At this rate, you’re going to be late back to work, and with the sheer number of things left to do and problems to solve with the shelters and kennels, you know that’s not an option. Hell, you’re so swallowed by your anxiety that you break out into a slow jog to make it at least halfway through the dog park in time.

Don’t look at him, don’t.

You glance at the man as you pass him, hoping to dear God that he’s focusing on his dog rather than the strange pet-less woman running through the park meant for pets, wearing dark forest-green scrubs underneath her jacket because she was too stupid to remember her food for the day. But alas, he is looking at you too.

It’s a weird kind of energy you can’t place, as if some kind of invisible force is trying to slow your feet down. The air thickens in resistance, and it’s like you’re barging through it to continue forward on your path. Everything in your body screams at you to stop, to talk to him, to say ‘hello’ with a smile because he deserves to have his own friendly one returned in some way. Oh wow, he’s actually looking at you, isn’t he?

The thing is, in situations like this you get nervous. You and attractive guys? Not quite the match made in heaven you’d probably expect. He flashes you that smile, all pearly whites to accompany the recognition from yesterday glittering in his startled gaze, but all you can manage is a strained grimace-like grin in return with a tiny wave of your sweaty palm.

Great. Fucking great.

At least you’re already gone before you can wallow in the humiliation; before you can simmer in it like a fine stew. He’s probably forgotten you already anyway, but you can’t help looking over your shoulder to check regardless.

Checkmate, he’s watching you go. The smile is now amused, and his head is cocked cutely to the side in playful confusion. As his dog jumps all over him to try and win back his attention, you flip the hoodie of your jacket up and try to ward off the embarrassed onslaught of laughter that bubbles in your chest. It would take more than a few days to wipe the image of his crescent moon shaped eyes from your memory this time around.

Jimin wakes to a wet and uncomfortable sensation prodding his face, and if he didn’t already have an innate sense for his favourite living being in the whole world, he’d be on his feet and ready to fight in no time at all.

“Mandu you gotta let me sleep,” he groans out, voice deep and groggy from his slumber. A persistent whine dragging from the throat of the animal rouses Jimin further, and he slides up to rest back on his elbows, eyes squeezing shut and skin covered in the slightest sheen of sweat from how hot it’d been under the bedcovers.

His dry lips part in a yawn. “Fine, you hungry?”

Mandu pokes his snout into Jimin’s cheek once more, big gentle brown eyes urging him to get up and start his day. Jimin knows that without his best friend with him, he’d barely have any motivation to step foot outside his room, let alone head out for a run each day consecutively.

It helps that his buddy looks out for him as diligently and as loyally as he had back when they were in the force together. It’s like nothing ever changed, and in the back of Jimin’s mind, he knows that the sense of routine had most likely saved his life time and time again.

“Alright,” he grunts loudly, lips curving into a smirk as he cups Mandu’s furry face into his palms, squishing the doggy cheeks he finds there together until the dog squirms in his spot on the bed. It’s not until Mandu lets out a frustrated yet playful growl that Jimin leaves him be with one last ruffle of his dark pointed ears.

Yeah, he really was fucked without his boy reminding him to eat, walk and sleep every day. Jimin knew it was pathetic, and he’d never felt so useless in his whole life, but it was enough to get him through for now.

Jimin scratches at his bare chest, freezing on his amble towards the kitchen when he spots something. Mandu stops along with him, his nails click on the floorboards in impatience but Jimin’s eyes are intensely locked onto the photo frame perched on the living room cabinet.

Idiot, of course there was one left.

He slams the frame down, making sure he can’t see the two laughing faces for a second longer than needed. He realises with a frown that he probably forgot to remove it due to barely ever setting foot in the living room as it was. Up until now, for the last five years, he’d spent most of his time at the station or out on the field. Patrolling, tracking … even apprehending, but that simply meant areas of his home went essentially unused for months on end.

Things were changing…

“Hey bud, what’s for breakfast?” he hums to his pal softly, finding a small happiness in the way Mandu circles around his legs like a bothered child. He assumes that if the dog were human, he’d be sporting the mightiest of pouts right about now.

Ten minutes later, Jimin finds himself nose deep in a bowl of flavourless cereal. On any other ordinary day, he and Mandu would usually race to see who could finish their meal the speediest, but he’s not feeling it this time around. The fawn coloured dog seems to give him a judgemental stare, as if saying ‘what’s wrong with you, did you let me win!?’ to which Jimin looks down at him and lets a breathy laugh fall from his lips.

“Not everything’s a competition boy, grow up already.”

Mandu simply huffs and moves to lay down, resting his muzzle on his front paws in defeat.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me.”

A dismissive sniff in response. Jimin finishes his meal with a shake of his head, knowing that if anyone were to ever hear the way he spoke to his pet dog, he’d most likely get shipped off to the nearest mental institution available. The sudden dark thought earns a surprised raise of his brows, but as he rinses his bowl off in the sink, he knows he has nothing to worry about.

It’s only him and Mandu now, and nobody else mattered. Nobody else was allowed to matter.

Yet Jimin’s always one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Even if he tries the hardest he can to shut the world out, he’s continuously drawn to people. Drawn to seek company and validation, drawn to love others with his whole heart unconditionally. He could have it all, but all the world does is take from him.

He sighs and sits back at the kitchen countertop, head resting on his folded arms much like the sassy child sprawled underneath the stool right now. “Do you think we’ll see the pretty lady from the park again today?”

The dog’s ear twitches, then flicks as if bothered by an irritating bug of some description. Jimin doesn’t know how to take that, really. Was it a no? Did Mandu even want to see her as much as he did? He supposes not, considering the ex-police dog was trained to be protective, and was instinctively so in every possible way.

He belongs to Jimin, and apparently that means Jimin belongs to him too, no friends allowed. Something in the back of his mind shouts that he shouldn’t be wanting friends anyway, that they were something to be afraid of.

“Whatever.”

It was the next day when things turned sour. To Jimin’s slight disappointment, they hadn’t seen the pretty lady in strange green attire again, but something did go horribly wrong instead.

Jimin exits the bathroom with a snowy white towel draped over his head, hoping that somehow his laziness will be overlooked for once and the towel will simply dry his hair for him with no additional effort, only for the fabric to fall from his head once he catches sight of Mandu walking down the hallway. Only he’s not walking, but rather limping.

“Buddy c’mere,” Jimin calls, voice pitching higher than usual in concern. With fear and cold hard dread settling deep into the pit of his stomach, Jimin observes the dog instantly perking up at the sound of his voice.

Mandu lets out a small yelp of excitement, but still has a stiffness and slight limp to his gait when he makes his way over. Jimin crouches down and pets the canine fondly, the sinking of his heart telling him that his suspicions were right all along.

Something is wrong here. He has to know what’s up, has to make sure his boy’s alright.

Jimin’s bundled the both of them into the car before he can stop to even think straight, and Mandu is nothing but a ball of excitement – bouncing around and goofily grinning the entire time. It hurts to think he’s fooling the dog into believing they’re going on some sort of spontaneous adventure, but that wouldn’t be entirely wrong. It’s only around noon so the local vet clinic has to be open, right?

He’s not dying, you really need to chill out.

Jimin knows his inner voice speaks the truth, but he continues to justify his frantic driving with a carefully crafted self-assurance. He’s only making sure, he’s simply worried for his baby.

He doesn’t stop to think about the way his hair is still unpleasantly damp from the shower, having forgotten to actually dry it beforehand, or the way his socks had somehow ended up being odd colours. He hastily finds a park outside the clinic and attaches his leash to Mandu’s collar.

What Jimin doesn’t expect to see, when striding through the administration doors with the dog in his arms, is you.

Your expression matches his own look of astonishment, your beautiful eyes widening in recognition in the exact same split-second his do. If Jimin was being honest with himself, he could probably just stand there looking at you for the next thirty minutes or so, but a miniscule wriggle from the animal in his hold brings him crashing back down to Earth.

“Um, hi,” he begins awkwardly, paces enormous as he lurches towards the desk you’re bracing your hands upon, still recovering from the shock of seeing him again it seemed. “I have a problem…”

You clear your throat and try not to smile at the amusing sight before you. Jimin knows it can’t be the strangest thing you’ve ever seen here, but the openly scared and confused dog clutched to his chest is enough to make you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself.

“I can see that. Luckily, we’ve got nobody in queue so you can jump right out back with me,” you say with a kind lilt to your tone that Jimin can tell is part of the customer service sector of your job description. He doesn’t really mind, nor does he even care. Right now, his only concern is Mandu.

No pretty lady in green scrubs is going to distract him from his best bud right now.

Fifteen minutes pass, and Jimin is worrying the skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. His wide troubled eyes trail over every movement you make as you examine the incredibly stiff and uncomfortable dog on the sterilised table. When Jimin meets Mandu’s startled gaze, he tries his best to calm his best friend down in a familiar gentle tone he would use at home.

“It’s okay buddy, you’ll be alright. Good boy…”

If you’re irritated or weirded out by his vocalisations, you don’t show it. Your mind seems to be too wrapped up in gently working your fingertips into the back haunches of the dog, massaging in slow circles. Jimin’s drawn in by the way you handle Mandu with such care and precision, and he begins thinking that if you were to do that to him, he’d probably be relaxing in no time.

Weird thoughts, but whatever, I guess.

The same can’t be said for the dog, though, and Jimin can only pick up the intensity of his soothing praises once he catches sight of Mandu trembling in fear on the table. The dog’s elbows seem to want to buckle under the stress of the situation, and it breaks Jimin’s heart to pieces to see his pal all worked up like this. It’s lucky that the animal has been trained well enough to trust in his handler’s presence alone, otherwise this whole examination might’ve taken a … darker and more vicious turn.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” he asks you quickly, voice high and strained as he reaches forward to scratch behind one of the dog’s ears in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. Mandu licks his palm in return, and usually Jimin would recoil and protest loudly, but today he was fairly sure he’d let his boy get away with anything.

You sigh softly, and Jimin doesn’t know what that means at first, but then you peel the gloves from your hands and flash him a small smile. Everything starts to feel okay somehow. “You see, Sir, this is quite commonly seen in specific breeds of dog, including your German-”

“Belgian Malinois.” The correction is out before he can hold it back, and Jimin wants to slap himself for how snappy and rude it sounds, but you don’t take offense in the slightest. Instead, he’s stunned once more when you click your fingers with a light gasp of realisation.

“That’s what it is! I was trying to remember the name of this breed for days on end, after the first time I saw him in the park.”

Jimin raises his brows at that, feeling the last of his anxiety melt from his bones at the sight of your smile, which was slowly beginning to familiarise itself to him.

“Ah, well you could’ve asked me. I would’ve told you in a heartbeat.” He chuckles, though it’s somewhat dry from the raw emotions still running their course through his brain. When you let out a soft laugh in return, he forces himself to tear his eyes away.

“Oh well, anyway you can calm down a bit, there’s nothing life threatening going on here just yet,” you assure in a calming tone, and Jimin can easily sense how there’s more sincerity behind the sound compared to the voice you’d used earlier when greeting him.

“There are two things I can narrow down for you, taking into consideration the information you’ve given me so far. Commonly found in these breeds is something called hip dysplasia, where the hip joint undergoes abnormal development or growth. The other possibility for his lameness is a form of chronic arthritis called osteoarthritis, which deteriorates joint cartilage more commonly in older dogs like Mandu here.”

“He’s not that old though?” Jimin hums, brows furrowing in bewilderment at the news. He pats the dog’s head fondly, saddened but glad that he can breathe a little easier now that he knows what’s going on.

“Perhaps, but he’s lived a very active lifestyle, you see. Heavy strain and activity on the dog’s body can bring this forth quicker, much the same as it does in humans,” you explain with a sad sigh.

“I do recommend getting x-rays done to check out the full extent of the damage, as well as to check for any other abnormalities.”

You then take your leave to fetch the main doctor, and Jimin finds himself startled to discover you’re only a veterinary nurse here. By the way you were reeling off information from the top of your head, as well as the confident manner in which you examined and diagnosed his dog, he would’ve effortlessly assumed you ran the goddamn joint.

He waits in the administration area while Mandu’s getting his x-rays done, fingers fiddling with themselves from the trepidation building up inside him. He doesn’t even hear you enter the room, and can’t help his back going ramrod straight attentively when you clear your throat. Curse his years of training in the force.

“Hey, I can just see that you’re a little stressed out there. He must mean a lot to you.” You walk around the corner of the front desk and take your place one seat away from him. Jimin realises that you most likely keep your distance from most customers with an unmistakeable barrier of professionalism, but for him you seem to be stepping right out of your comfort zone.

He can tell by the unnecessarily chipper tone of your voice, and how your eyes flicker nervously to the side every once in a while. You’re good at hiding how anxious you are, he’ll give you that, but not good enough to escape watchful eyes such as his. Not when he goes through the exact same thing.

He finally musters the courage to respond after a few seconds of simply eyeing you in curiosity. “Yep.” He smiles tightly and returns his gaze to his interlocked fingers, knowing the expression wouldn’t reach his eyes. “He’s been with me through thick and thin. Almost like a little brother or son to me, as weird as that probably sounds.”

“I wouldn’t say weird,” you instantly oppose, laughing to brighten the sullen mood Jimin knows he’s bestowed upon you. “I think it’s sweet, and he’s a very lucky dog to have someone caring about him so much.”

Your sentiment melts the icy sadness around Jimin’s heart ever so slightly. The cold blanket encompassing him ever since his last loved one left his side. He hasn’t felt the urge to open up since, but he knows he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. “I- thanks, I guess.”

Before he can continue on and ruin the somehow light-hearted atmosphere by telling you he wants to be alone, you’re suddenly speaking again in that gentle voice of yours. “It’s kinda funny how we keep running into each-other, don’t you think? I can’t help but hope you’ll both be at the park whenever I pass by…”

Jimin’s at a loss for words at your candour, looking up sharply to see the way you’re shyly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and avoiding his eyes like the plague. It looks as though you regret the words as soon as they’re out in the open air.

But … he feels the same.

He can’t say it. He won’t. He can’t just let you in and create a space for yourself in his life, or heart right now. He cannot admit that you’ve lived in his mind for free ever since he saw you that second time, running past him with that smile on your face, confusing him with your antics to no end. Why do you keep getting under his skin in the best possible way?

“I mean, i-if you’d like to go out for coffee or something later on, I-”

He dips his head with a small sniff to attempt to cut you off in a somewhat polite manner. “Ah sorry, I’ve got a … funeral at two. Not really in the mood these days, but I appreciate it. Seriously, I do.”

He doesn’t wish to see your reaction to his less than eloquent rejection, but he catches it regardless. That wrenching moment you come to the conclusion that you read the signs all wrong. The glimmer of hope and interest in your eyes slowly flickering out like dying embers, although not completely, and he has no doubt it ever would.

You frown and instantly come through with a quiet “I’m sorry for your loss,”, but Jimin dismisses the sympathy with a tiny wave of his hand, claiming that it was a colleague and acquaintance rather than a close friend or family member.

It’s already obvious to him how much of an optimist you are. You’re holding onto that tiny shred of hope as if it were the string of a helium balloon, one moment of slack and he’d be floating away from you far out of reach.

“Right, sorry if I overstepped.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’re way too considerate and understanding of him, and the painful burn that leaves on his conscious is so real. It reminds him of all the times his brother would tell him to never take people’s kindness for granted, but here he was shooting you down even though you’d never given him a reason to.

In fact, he likes you enough to go back almost instantly on his words.

“I really am busy, otherwise … I would actually love to, believe me.” He combs a hand through his hair in exasperation, inwardly cringing at the damp dewy sensation greeting his palm as he’s reminded again of his post-shower dilemma. You’re already chuckling at your newfound victory, and he’s pleasantly surprised at the sudden streak of mischief in your eyes.

“Let’s make it a date for Saturday then, see you at the park usual time? I’ll make sure to come out earlier so I don’t miss you again.”

Damn you’re assertive, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t liking it. Something in the way you so effortlessly drew him out of his shell was electrifying. Was he even in total control of his own emotions right now?

He’s left in a stunned silence, nodding in response to your question before you’re suddenly making your exit, uttering something along the lines of ‘best wishes for the funeral’ and ‘good luck with Mandu’, but he can barely hear beyond the rushing of blood past his ears. He’s a flustered mess of a man right now.

He only regains majority of his focus once he’s left the clinic with some anti-inflammatory and pain meds for his dog, a slight dent in his bank account, and a date.

Holy fuck. You really did that. You did.

When it came down to it, you just saw your shot and took it. Simple as that, really. When the attractive guy from the dog park had shown up at the clinic, piercing deep brown eyes full of purpose, you’d very nearly felt your brain short-circuit at the sight. However, as time went on you began to get a glimpse of his true self.

It took every ounce of strength within you not to openly coo at the way he soothed his canine friend, with gentle words of encouragement spilling from his plush lips like a steady stream of water. If you’d been blind, you might have even been led to assume he was speaking to a fellow human.

Jimin, he’d revealed as his name. He was so lost in his worry for Mandu you didn’t think he’d even retained memory of your own name when you’d given it, but in the end it didn’t matter. You now had a literal date planned where you could talk and get to know him even more! How you’d managed to force the bold question out, you’ll never know, but hey at least one of your spontaneous and stupid decisions had to go well once in a while, right?

You sink into your couch, a fluffy white cat curled up on your lap as you relive the memories from the day. The relaxing sounds of purring surround you as you massage your fingers into your cat’s thick neck fur.

“Oh Ghostie, what the heck am I gonna do?”

Right now you can only think back to the way his hair was a bit of a jumbled mess, evidently damp and sticking out in all directions cutely. The addicting scent of his body-wash, if the rushed situation and flushed complexion was anything to go by, and aftershave. The man had those butterflies swooping around in your stomach already, and you barely knew him.

Your cat growls in protest when you let out a tiny squeal and make a harsh grab for a couch cushion, effectively burying your face deep into it in pure unadulterated embarrassment and disbelief. After living life being perfectly happy and single, why was this one somewhat decent-looking man sweeping you off your feet?

And sweep you off your feet he would, because when you finally show up to meet him at the dog park on Saturday, you’re being harshly barked at and sent flying to the ground before you can even process what’s happened. The dull ache from the force of impact fades quickly, and you try to regain your bearings before anything worse can happen.

“Fuck, sorry!”

The sight of your freshly washed jeans, now sporting a lovely scuff, causes you to cringe slightly. You shake your head and lock eyes with the pointy-eared dog standing over your body. It strikes you as bizarre, seeing as Mandu’s not exactly attacking you, but he’s not all that happy to see you either. You’re locked into a stand-off, despite you currently being knocked onto your ass with your heart still racing.

“Get off her!” comes Jimin’s outraged yell, his eyes are wide in sheer disbelief and disappointment. You can’t help but laugh softly at his exasperation, the shock of the fall now trickling away at the sight of the familiar face, or rather faces.

“I’m sorry (Y/n), I honestly don’t know what came over him. We were waiting by the pond and he just … took off when you came around!”

You stand and brush your clothes off, feeling your cheeks burn at the fact that he had actually remembered your name from the clinic the other day. You try to tell him it’s fine, but he still scolds the now sheepish looking dog at his feet – albeit as gently as possible through his vexation.

“I couldn’t leave him at home,” Jimin starts, sighing and clipping a leash to the dog’s collar pointedly. “Told him to behave himself but yeah, that didn’t go down well.” He regards you with concerned eyes, and you feel your heart melt at how he tries to subtly check you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Jimin, trust me. Working at the clinic means I’ve had my fair share of body-slams. Don’t sweat it.” You wave your hands before squatting, lowering yourself to be face-to-face with Mandu who still seemed to be eyeing you warily.

You understood it. Here you were, nothing more than a stranger, trying to take his owner and favourite person in the world away from him. You had to somehow convince Mandu that you weren’t a threat to their little family of two.

“Hey, buddy. Remember me?” You slowly reach out a hand to pat the top of the dog’s furry head, eager to earn his trust. “I’m not gonna hurt either of you, promise.”

You miss the way something flickers in Jimin’s eyes after hearing you say that. A glazed look of predictability, of cold hard doubt … but it’s gone when you rise to your feet once more. The dog seems to have accepted you for now, averting his eyes from the direct and intimidating glare he’d had trained on you ever since he’d pinned you down.

“Shall we, then?” You find yourself saying, self-confidence shocking you both as you smile and lead the way out of the park and towards the middle of town.

It doesn’t take long to find a nice café to sit at, and it’s with reluctance that Jimin leaves Mandu tied up outside. However, he knows he has to tone down his attachment in view of the public eye, and you especially. He doesn’t know just how far you’re willing to go for him.

He was a closed iron door to the world, yet he was still somewhat intrigued to see your efforts in getting inside. There was no way he was going let it happen, not again, but … why was he here then?

After ordering the coffees, him taking his black after years of late nights on patrol and you filling yours with sugar, you both surprisingly hit it off well. You suppose that after noticing how heavily you could relate to him, and vice versa, it was easy to understand one another and fall into steady conversation.

“The police force, huh.” You sip at your drink with a drawn-out hum of confirmation. “I actually kinda guessed that.”

Jimin blinks in shock. “You did?”

“Yeah! I mean I’ve seen Mandu a handful of times now, and it’s in the way he’s thoroughly trained to listen to your every command, not to mention the way he moves. When I gave him the check-up at the clinic, I forgot to mention that I just assumed your occupation when I said ‘active lifestyle’ back then.”

There is no way you’re going to tell him that you’d also made that assumption based on the man’s incredible build and well-toned muscles as well. Best to keep your thoughts on the dog, and luckily for you Jimin turns his head to check on his companion resting outside by a bowl of water, allowing your eyes to roam freely for a decent second or so.

“Well, you’re more observant than I thought,” Jimin notes through a breathy laugh, fingers lightly tapping at his coffee mug in thoughtful contemplation. You can’t help getting lost in the sight of him yet again.

He’s an absolute vision right now even if he’s dressed casually, only foregoing the shorts and joggers for simple black jeans and flatform sandals. His hair looks as soft as ever, and though his eyes are still open windows that show he’s hurting inside, you can’t help finding the immense beauty behind the pain.

There’s a short, comfortable silence as you both nurse your mugs of caffeine, but you break it in fear of letting an awkward air settle in. Damn, you do love being a little socially inept sometimes.

“Why the name Mandu?” You think it’s an innocent question, but unbeknownst to you, Jimin’s thoughts spiral at the reminder. The memories and origins of his boy’s name that uncomfortably sting at his heart like nettles.

“Ah, it was my brother who named him … actually,” he reveals, wondering if the slight crack of his voice is noticeable as he smiles convincingly. If you see through him, you don’t show it. Instead, you register the hint ever so slightly and aim to avoid prying.

“You would’ve only had him for a few years, right?”

“I served for five, so yeah he’s only been mine for a few years, but I did meet him before that while we were both in training.” Jimin laughs at what seems to be a fond memory, pushing the other ones to the back of his mind for now. “I was a little obnoxious about it back then, because I had to be with him. I demanded it to the chief and everything, if I wasn’t getting Mandu then I would drop my application because we’d bonded so well.”

You giggle, and cough lightly to hide your embarrassment instantly afterwards. “I love that, it’s quite obvious to me that you two are meant for each other.”

“What about you? Got any pets?” he asks, eyes alight with a newfound interest. Catching the way he leans forward in his seat ever so slightly; you feel a familiar warmth bloom in your chest. Jimin was finally relaxing around you.

“Yeah, a cat.” You cover your mouth with one hand to suppress your amusement, waiting for Jimin to scoff at you or screw his face up in disgust, but he doesn’t. Rather, he looks upwards in thought and then shakes his head while chuckling meaningfully. “Mandu would hate you for saying that.”

“Not a fan?”

“Absolutely not. I’m impartial though.” He watches you over the rim of his mug when he lifts it, an amused glimmer in his eye.

“Good to know. Good to know.” Your eyebrows shoot up and you can’t wipe the grin from your face, absent-mindedly stirring your coffee with your spoon. It wouldn’t be long before the drinks were finished, but you didn’t want this moment in time to end.

The two of you chat for another half hour or so, but you can’t help noticing the distant look that surfaces in Jimin’s gaze whenever he brings up old memories of his family or brother. Your curiosity burns at this point, and you feel yourself wanting to get to know him so much more. He’s such an enigma to you. Watching the way he tries to let go and be himself, unapologetically, but holding back just as you catch an addictive glimpse of what that might be.

As you exchange more stories and memories, you can’t help but feel yourself digging a little deeper to uncover what’s tearing him down so hard. “You keep mentioning your brother, I’m guessing you guys are close?”

And ah, now you’ve done it. It hurts to see the guarded expression slam back down on Jimin’s features, but you knew it had to be done. You didn’t know if it were just you who could see it, but by repressing all his memories and feelings, Jimin was doing more harm than good to himself. Some internal part of you wanted to help him, because you knew exactly what it was like.

Though you weren’t expecting every dam to break just yet.

It takes a moment for Jimin to deliberate on his next words, but you wait out every second with him, patient and understanding. He notices this and decides that it’s alright for him to indulge just this once, to let someone in for just a single moment. “Not really, well … used to be. He, uh, he left town a while ago.”

Left?

You keep your tone quiet, not wanting to scare him away because he did seem like the type to take off at any given moment. “Sorry to hear that,” you murmur.

“It’s alright,” he says, wondering just how much he should give away. It’s the first time he’s met up and gone out with someone he’d consider a ‘friend’ of sorts in ages, so he’s not sure how much he should be disclosing right now, but something about you makes him want to let it all go. It scares him like nothing else.

“Honestly it hasn’t been … a great time for me since he left. Y’know, he was the only one that ever stayed, and things were tough being in the force and everything,” he offers through a dry laugh.

You want to reach out for his hand on the café table so badly, but it’s too soon to be that close. He’s testing the waters right now, showing you a vulnerable side that you can easily tell he doesn’t let out very often. It warms your heart, and all these broken feelings he’s showing you make everything feel so real. You can’t help but want to give yourself back to him.

“I can’t imagine it would’ve been easy. I know how it feels, actually.” You mentally prepare yourself to revisit a time you usually laid to rest, keeping the gentle smile on your face because even though these subjects were touchy and very meaningful to the two of you, you’d actually come to terms with yours years and years ago. Learned how to turn that pain and suffering into progress, self-growth.

“You do?” You can tell the sheer hope and relief in his tone doesn’t quite match the caution in his eyes, as if he doesn’t want to think that someone as bright and bubbly as you can ever have as many problems as he does, but you shut that train of thought down for him.

“Yeah, I … don’t have any family left either.”

He wants to know how, why, but he pulls himself back from the question almost instantly. Still, you can see it all on his features. He’s an open book for you to read.

“It’s okay Jimin, I came to terms with it a while back. I’m an only child, but my parents died when I was a teen.”

It hits him like a freight train then. The realisation that yes, of course there are other people in the world who have lost just like he has. The sad but forgiving look in your eyes just about breaks him. He’s been so self-centred the whole time, not even thinking that maybe you’re sitting across from him going through a life just as lonely as his own.

“I don’t know what to say.” To your shock, it’s him that reaches across the table to grasp your hand gently, and you hadn’t even realised it was shaking slightly until he’d steadied it with his own. There were no hidden intentions in his gaze, just a pained understanding. You’d both needed to simply tell someone.

“I promise I’m fine now. It was years ago. I don’t even know why I’m…”

You trail off with a shaky laugh, tightening your grip on his hand slightly in fear that he would let go of you. You were essentially strangers, but you’d both needed this. You needed someone to listen as you talked, to have that visceral sense for the pain rather than simply try sympathising with it. It was different when you knew the feeling.

After the sudden serious note of the conversation had passed, both you and Jimin felt a little weight taken off your shoulders. You’d both torn some walls down today, and that in itself was enough to garner bucketloads of respect and admiration on both accounts.

You part ways back at the park, a new kind of friendship blossoming that, if you were being honest, neither of you had seen coming.

A couple of months pass after that, and in between his regular walks and visits to the clinic, Jimin finds himself spending more and more time in your presence. He even jokes around with Mandu that he should walk just a tad more lamely so he can stay a little longer between check-ups. But at the end of the day he knows he truly wants his boy to get better.

The first time he steps foot inside your house, he’s instantly halted in his tracks by the fluffiest white cat he’s ever seen. After hearing you mention, ‘she hates strangers’, and ‘she’ll probably cuss you out straight away’, it comes as a surprise to both of you when Ghost wraps herself around Jimin’s leg and purrs needily. A louder purr than you’ve ever received in your whole ten years of being her owner.

“Stop whoring yourself out! He’s just here to pick up some worming tablets,” you tut in disapproval, earning a hearty laugh from Jimin at the snappy tone. Ghost narrows her green eyes at you and rubs her chin along Jimin’s pant leg one more time for good measure, proceeding to saunter into the kitchen utterly oozing with sass.

After a few more random visits, you stop beating around the bush and begin inviting Jimin over to either chill out or have dinner. Obviously, more often than not it turned out to be both.

You’d order something in and then joke about how unhealthy you were for being too lazy to cook. Jimin even gets so exasperated sometimes that he carts food over from his own home to cook up in your kitchen, funnily enough. It wasn’t your fault you never really had the time to teach yourself during your unrelenting years of university and work, and it wasn’t as if you had a parent around to help you learn as a child.

Jesus, way to be depressing.

It wasn’t uncommon for you and Jimin to find random spots of humour within your combined trauma and abandonment issues either, as unhealthy as that sounds.

You always figured that life was too short to be sad all the time anyway, and even though that ideology alarmed your newfound friend at first, he soon slowly began to see the appeal. He was kind of over being sad, honestly.

He remembers standing by the coffin at Hoseok’s funeral, the very same fateful day he’d encountered you at the clinic for the first time. He’d felt overwhelmed at the emotions threatening to pull him apart at the seams, but at the same time, he’d felt cold at the lack thereof.

That was the result of letting himself get close to someone again, even through work of all places. His partner with the sunny disposition and heart-shaped smile? Gone from this world in a single click of a finger. It was too easy, too much of a risk to get closer. Jimin remembers not even being able to bring himself to cry back then, but things are starting to change now that you’re in the picture.

He still has that lingering dread that you’ll leave him too, but try as he might to keep you at arm’s length, he simply can’t. You bring out the best in him, and you make him want to try harder, to try being better. In a sense, you’re like another Mandu to him. He can’t just ignore that.

He tells you about Hoseok one night, just because it comes up in conversation and he’s already rambling on before he can stop himself. He looks up at your crestfallen face, knowing your heart hurts for him even though he’s unable to muster the correct emotions, all thanks to the disconnection he’s forged from his dead colleague already.

He recalls severing himself from those feelings right as he died, and again when he stood by his body at the funeral, but then you went and somehow reconstructed that bridge without him knowing.

“You know it’s okay to miss people, Jim. To remember them for who they were, and what they meant to you. It’s okay to miss them because they’re gone.”

He cries in your arms until 1 a.m. that night.

After a while, he begins to let people see the true him, fed up with hiding and done with shutting the world out. He returns smiles directed his way in the street, he ventures out to do nothing but simply stop and smell the roses. It’s refreshing, and it’s as if he can barely remember what it feels like after years of being chained down by depression and self-loathing.

You did that, with your calming presence, your affirming words, your genuine care. He’ll never forget it.

And slowly but surely, Mandu begins to warm up to you as well.

“I swear he’s only squaring up just to show off or something,” Jimin snorts as he walks beside you on the concrete path, Mandu in tow on a leash now that you’re leaving the park.

“He’s asserting dominance.” You cast a glance behind you to see the dog glaring you down, just as usual.

‘Why the hell are you walking next to him when I’m supposed to be there? You’re just a lowly human who doesn’t deserve my dad’s time or attention. How dare you!’

You bite back a laugh when you imagine the thoughts running through Mandu’s head, and he sniffs and growls at the sight of you not taking him seriously. He’s a big bad wolf, fear him goddammit.

“I’m sure he’ll accept me into the pack one day,” you respond good-naturedly, earning an eye-roll from Jimin as he shoots a pointed look of warning towards his boy once more. He can’t help but feel tingles erupt across his skin hearing ‘the pack’ come from your mouth. You make it sound like an actual family, and for some reason he seems to crave exactly that. That’s what all of you are to Jimin, a little family.

“Sure, but good luck convincing him to accept Ghost. I’m sure he’ll be walking around with a ‘NO CATS ALLOWED’ sign hanging from his neck soon enough.”

The dog agrees.

The next day is when Mandu’s last check-up is scheduled, and you wait by the front desk nervously as Jimin discusses options with Dr. Kim in the next room over. It’s been several weeks since the dog’s initial diagnosis, and he’s had a slight improvement, but it isn’t enough.

You and Jimin have spoken about how worried he is regarding the dog’s rapid muscle loss, and your heart always constricts at the sight as well. There’s only so much medication you can give.

You already know that Jimin’s current status of unemployment means he probably doesn’t have the means to fund more than one surgery, that is if he wants to remain financially stable. You’d need another plan.

“Hydrotherapy?” Jimin squawks. He’s a picture of confusion right now, one eyebrow cocked and pretty lips parting in surprise. You can’t help laughing at his dumbfounded expression.

“Yes, Jiminie. Dr. Kim has asked me to explain it to you so we can work out when to schedule it. Basically, dogs with chronic arthritis need to be able to exercise their joints and muscles without the excess strain, so regular swimming sessions are perfect.”

“It’ll help him get stronger?”

“Exactly, and since he’s up to date on his vaccinations we can organise a session right away, if you’d like?”

Jimin can’t suppress a shit-eating grin at the formal tone you’re using with him. He’s so used to messing around with you and having general chatter that the sudden switch to your ‘customer’ voice, as he calls it, is now more amusing to him than ever. You grumble under your breath, knowing all too well that he’s making fun of you without actually saying it.

“Fine, when can we start then? I’ve only ever seen him swim once, and it didn’t go well for the bad guy,” Jimin acquiesces, lifting his brows once and smirking at you mischievously. You ignore him.

“That’s alright Sir, we can start this Thursday.” You smile in such a pretentious and artificial way that Jimin has to smother his offended gasp. Now you’re just being rude.

“Pretending not to know who I am? Damn, guess I’ll just throw that strawberry shortcake I bought in the bin when I get home…”

And he’s got you. Your eyes light up and your fingers curl into fists on the desktop. You swallow thickly at the thought of him eating one of your favourite desserts on his own, or even worse throw it out like the heathen he is, but you’re determined not to cave in.

“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t quite follow. Your unhealthy affairs have little importance to me.”

You’re putting up a fight this time around, and Jimin’s willing to play. He leans on the desk with his elbow, the suave and impish air he suddenly exudes makes you nervous on the other side of the marble structure. “In that case, can we make this quick? I gotta rush home and catch up on the last two episodes of ‘Anohana’.”

This time you can’t contain your sharp inhale. “You promised we’d watch that together.”

Jimin chuckles with glee, taking the easy victory with a cocky lick of his lips. You trail the movement with your eyes before glaring at him again. “I don’t even care, you’d better not.”

He enjoys riling you up way too much. “Or what?”

“I’ll literally bust down your door at 2 a.m. in the morning Park, don’t test me.”

He knows you’re only joking around, but hearing his last name uttered in such a grave manner shifts something within him. He’s suddenly transported back to the chief’s office, hands wringing together in unease. “Park, is this about yesterday?”

“Park! He ran over there, follow me quick!”

“Jung wait…”

He has to shake his head, the smattering of memories and thoughts filtering from his mind slower than he’d like. He needs to drown out the sound of the echoing gunshot with something else, something louder.

You’re watching him the entire time with an apologetic gaze, picking up the miniscule signs that tell you he’s had something from the past triggered and brought back up unwillingly. You don’t even know what it is that you said, but you stay quiet and allow him to regain his composure.

“You okay Jiminie?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just thought of something,” he hums, not bothering to try and pretend as if nothing happened. You both knew each other too well at this point, and you understood him enough to have learned it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Sometimes these things just happened.

“Thursday sounds great, (Y/n).”

“Of course, I’ll lock it in. How does catching those last few episodes tonight sound? We can ugly cry and eat ice-cream like the cliché we are,” you say with an enthusiastic clap of your hands, and Jimin smiles tenderly. You always have a sense for what he needs.

He inwardly thanks the heavens for your existence, because now he won’t be alone in the silence of his home, with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Even Mandu couldn’t help him sometimes.

“Lovely. It sounds lovely.”

You’ve changed him, and he wants to spend the rest of his life telling you just how thankful he is.

So when his phone rings one late night and he sees your name light up on the screen, he doesn’t hesitate to pick it up, even though his past self would have lethargically thrown it to the side while shrinking away from any kind of human interaction that wasn’t necessary.

“Hey,” he mumbles, eyes still squeezed shut from sleep.

Silence.

He’s startled into a more wakeful state by Mandu lifting his head suddenly from his lap, the attentive canine’s ears twitching as he bores holes into the phone in Jimin’s hand. Now worrying, Jimin says your name into the phone twice, eyes scanning the way his dog seems to be picking up whatever tiny sounds are coming from the speaker.

There’s a sniffle, and a tiny hiccup. “Jimin … I’m sorry. Can you come over right now?”

Anxiety flares up like some kind of wildfire within him, and Jimin’s rocketing from the bed before he can take the time to stop, breathe and think. Mandu follows, a bark of alarm leaving him as he dances around Jimin’s bare feet in excitement. He gets that the dog doesn’t know any better, but from the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the line, anyone could tell that something had gone terribly wrong.

He needs to be by your side now.

“Mandu stay,” he orders, not caring to use any proper commands due to the way his hands are shaking. His heart is hammering against his ribcage, just as it had way back when he’d rushed Mandu to the vet for a simple arthritis problem. Now, his next favourite being in the world was the source of his panic.

He’s thrown on whatever clothes he can find and tries to ignore Mandu’s flurry of whines and howls from inside the house once he’s settled in the car. You’re still on the phone, but he can barely get a word in when you’re crying and blubbering nonsense like you currently are. The most Jimin can do as he drives is what he would need in the stark moments of a mental breakdown, gentle words of encouragement and … a song.

He hates himself for it, but he remembers the lullaby his brother used to sing for him whenever he cried, and he hopes to dear God that he can calm you down with his voice just as Taehyung had when they were younger. The soothing notes fall from his lips, and the memories they bring hurt so much that he can feel himself choking up, but he tells himself that you matter more.

He pulls up to your house ten minutes later, your crying thankfully reduced to a collection of whimpers and sniffles. He doesn’t dare hang up, but barges through the front door without a single second of hesitation. He briefly glimpses the flash of a white fluffy tail disappearing down the hallway, the cat obviously scared out of its mind from the recent events.

Then he sees you curled up in the kitchen, and he just wants to make everything stop.

You’ve got your head in between your knees, tears falling freely from your cheeks as you cradle one arm in your other. Jimin notices with a jolt of shock that the arm you’re holding is all red and blotchy, and it’s clear to him that you must’ve burned yourself somehow.

He rushes to your side and holds you as carefully as he can, almost slipping on the pool of water and charred remnants of baking paper scattered on the tiled floor just beside you. “What happened?” he urges after trying to soothe your trembling form for ten minutes.

He has you on your feet now, arm in the sink as he runs icy cold water over the heated skin as gently as he can. He’s clumsier than you though, so even as he tries to handle your limbs with as much care as you’d once handled Mandu at the clinic, you still wince in pain every now and again. Guilt shoots through Jimin every time, but he knows you’ll forgive him.

You don’t speak until your arm is sufficiently treated and wrapped, thanks to Jimin’s courses in first aid that he can barely remember at this point, but it serves him well enough for now. Your eyes are downcast, and your lips are cracked from all the grief you’d caused them with your teeth. He waits for you to get it together.

“I’m … I’m sorry you had to come all this way-”

“Don’t say that, I’m so glad you called me (Y/n),” he cuts you off, leading you to the plush couch in the living room and sitting you down firmly. He kneels in front of your figure, now wrapped tightly in a blanket for security and comfort, and rests both of his hands on your upper arms.

“You need to tell me what happened, do you feel alright now?”

You nod your head, but he fixes you with strong disbelieving eyes and boom you’re weakened, shaking your head with a sigh. “No, I’m not.”

“How can I help? I’m not great at it, but I really want to help you,” he says earnestly, fingers pressing circles into your arms and calming you down enough to breathe evenly. Your lips twitch up into a nervous smile.

“That song you sang over the phone helped a lot, actually. I don’t know why.”

Hearing that causes Jimin to undergo a whirlwind of conflicted emotions, but he once again tells himself that you’re the only one that matters right now. He starts to sing again but you reach forward to ruffle his messy hair with a chuckle. “It’s okay, I’m just letting you know.”

Thank God, he thinks. Then again, maybe if he uses the melody and lyrics for good, those negative associations could be turned into positive ones. Maybe it was time to make the song his own.

He sees you struggling to think of where to begin and shifts to take a seat next to you with a smile. “Just start with what happened, yeah?”

“Okay.” You nod, combing back your hair with your fingers and wiping the last salty tears from your skin. “So I wanted to try baking something…”

You eye him with a glimmer of amusement in your gaze, and he instantly capitalises on it. “Well there’s your first mistake.”

You playfully wack him, feeling your spirits lift at the sound of his laugh and the sight of his crescent moon-shaped eyes. He really was your light in the dark right now.

“It was going well, actually, but then I heard Ghostie knock something over in my room and I went to check for … not even two seconds.”

Jimin knows that this is where it gets serious, your eyes glaze over again and he can see the recollection of the events flashing through your mind like a reel of film. “I left the baking paper out, and the space was way too messy, I-I definitely should’ve kept it cleaner. I came back and there were some things on fire, but nothing too bad. I just…”

You bend down to rest your face into your hands once more, and Jimin quietly rubs your back in concern. By the looks of it, you were able to put the fire out easily, so what exactly prompted you to break down like that?

You lift your head and keep your shaky hands clamped together by your lips, eyes stricken and weary from the onslaught of emotional stress. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet Jiminie, I would never hide anything from you, so I guess it just never came up. It’s … why I kind of lost the plot after throwing water over the entire kitchen like a lunatic.”

“You can tell me,” he soothes, brows furrowing in distress.

“It’s my parents. How they died….”

His throat tightens with apprehension at the topic, knowing it’s something you definitely avoid talking about whenever it comes up. It was always buried so deep, and Jimin can’t recall ever asking you about the finer details of what you went through.

He feels time slow to a halt as you utter your next words. “They died in a house fire when I was fourteen. Burned to death.”

Oh fuck. Fuck.

It falls into place now, and Jimin snaps out of his daze when he feels your shoulder shudder underneath the palm of his hand. He’s at a loss for words, the sight of how truly upset you are making his heart sink in sorrow.

He scoots over on the couch to hold you close and whisper soft calming words. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. You’re alright, I’m here now.”

You know he has no idea how much it means to you, just hearing those simple words when the anxiety and fear continue to claw at your throat like hellish nails. You’re caught in its grip, the flashing images of flames and the sounds and smells of screeching, burning, crumbling to dust. It surrounds you, and you choke on the tendrils of smoke as if they’re really there, filling your lungs like a heavy sand. It stings, and it’s excruciating.

“Maybe I’d fare a little better … if I’d just stayed somewhere else that night,” you can’t help whimpering out, the memories resurfacing too quickly for you to have control over them.

“You were there?” Jimin reels. Hearing that you’d witnessed your own parent’s death was nothing short of devastating. That was way too much for a young mind to handle, surely. Could the world really be that cruel to one of, if not the most amazing person he’s ever met? He can’t help but cry for you in this moment, trying his best to stay silent as his tears soak into your shirt.

You both stay locked together for another hour or so, Jimin listening intently as you explain the story to him of what happened that night. It’s agonising to relive it, but you know he needs to hear it from you. There’s nowhere else he can hear it from, really.

“Y’know, working in the force meant I had to handle situations like that a few times. It was rare, but it did happen. I’ve seen the faces of the families; I’ve seen the damage it can cause. I just wish you hadn’t been alone, fuck,” he mumbles, hating that he can’t just go back and fix what’s unfixable.

You wave him off. “Jimin, you’ve done more for me tonight than … literally anyone’s ever done for me. Truly, I love you for that.”

His heart leaps in his chest.

“I don’t relapse too often,” you carry on shakily, “it’s just that the sight of a fire that’s out of control just … it just terrifies me so much. I see their faces in the flames.”

It’s so fucking messed up. He feels his entire being shiver in discomfort at the image you’re painting for him, but he only holds you closer. He wants to chase it all away, even though deep down he knows he can’t. All he can do is be here for you, with you when you need it most.

“That’s why I went into vet science,” you say, eyes growing brighter the longer Jimin embraces you. It’s like he’s physically holding you together, and it’s so very safe in his arms. “I had to come to terms with death as a concept, like properly. I wanted to save those who didn’t deserve it just yet, those who deserve to live longer lives just like they did. It’s my life’s purpose.”

Jimin comes to the realisation, right then and there, that he probably loves you.

You are, without a doubt in his mind, the strongest and most remarkable person he’s ever met. He wants to be around you all the time, wants to share your energy, wants to be half as amazing as you are – with every fibre of his being. It’s not like he can just say that though. Not right now, anyway.

He tucks the thought away for another time. A better one.

“What about you? Why did you want to become a police officer?” you ask, snorting once into a tissue to finally rid yourself of the snot and tears.

“Me?” Jimin chuckles. You’re always one to turn it around, never wanting the spotlight for more than needed. He fondly reaches up to run his fingers through your hair, grazing the skin of your cheek along the way and making you smile wistfully.

“Well, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly why. It always comes down to justice, right? We all want to enforce that, protect those that need protecting, and saving lives as well. I’m very similar to you in that sense,” he starts, clearing his throat to lighten the atmosphere with a confident tone. You find yourself snuggling into his side, just longing to hear him talk for hours while you wrap yourself in the warmth of the blanket and his reassuring presence.

“My family left a while back, and my brother was the only one who stayed with me. Both of us had to fend for ourselves, and with me being the eldest, it was easy to fall into that father-figure kind of mould. I wanted to protect what we had, but it was pretty laughable when I was the smaller kid.” Jimin laughs, surprising not only himself, but you with the way he speaks about his past so openly and without any bitterness or animosity.

He was looking at it a different way, and he had you to thank for that.

“So I trained,” he continues. “I trained so hard and spent years proving myself. I came home to our tiny flat every night, prouder than I’d been the night before. And Tae-”

His throat tightens and he has to cut himself off, the syllables of his brother’s name dying on his tongue due to disuse. He hasn’t said it in years, and the feeling his name conjures is strange. There’s the ever-present cold hard hatred building in his chest, but in some wild and wacky way, it’s easier to move past it.

“Taehyung … he was so proud of me too.”

You lift your head from where it rests on Jimin’s chest, moving your hand to envelope his where it resides in his lap. His fingers grasp yours gently, a simple squeeze telling you that he’s alright to keep going. He’s got you so relaxed in his arms that you can almost feel yourself falling asleep, but you know you mustn’t. You have to stay awake for him right now, right when he’s opening up completely.

“Since you shared your story, I figure I have to share mine.” Jimin smiles, the expression not completely reaching his eyes. Both of you have made so much progress tonight, it’s not even funny. He knows that if he doesn’t tell you now, he most likely never will.

“We … fell in love with the same person, me and Tae. It got ugly, and we were super close until the countless fights and yelling matches tore us apart. Even after we both got over this person, we couldn’t stand each-other. We couldn’t make it through one day without a handful of painful jabs being sent back and forth. It was bad, so bad.” He takes a deep breath, and you sit up slightly to hold him closer. The positions were reversed now.

“I needed him, despite all that, I really did. He was the only one left, and I was too proud to just forget everything that’d happened to us. I got offered a place in an exchange program with a group of officers in my force, it was to Europe and it went for no longer than two weeks, but when I got back Tae was…”

“He was gone,” you finish for him when he can’t, raising your hand to wipe the singular tear cascading down his smooth cheek. Jimin sniffs and smiles at you, turning to bury his face into your hair and letting out a large, heavy exhale.

“I sold the flat after many nights of just crying and breaking down,” he mumbles softly into your head. “I still don’t know where he went, but I also didn’t want to exploit my access to citizen information to find out. I think that’s when my passion for the force started to die down, though it took years for me to finally have the guts to leave. Nothing’s fair in this godforsaken world.”

It was a harsh and negative outlook, but you found yourself agreeing to a certain extent. Here you were, the epitome of optimism and ‘bright side’ herself, wanting to watch the world burn for just a second. Just like your family had.

You cringe at your own line of thought. “It’s our job to make it better-”

“Don’t even say it (Y/n), I swear to God,” Jimin warns playfully, cupping you cheeks in both palms and squishing them until your lips open and close like a fish. His eyes sparkle with adoration, and you whine out in protest against his actions before you can get lost in them.

“I’m just saying!”

“Don’t just say! Let me be emo for once you fool.” He tackles you onto the couch, spirits steadily rising from the depressing venture into his memories. Feeling light and as unburdened as a feather, he pins you down and tickles your sides mercilessly.

You miss the warmth of his comforting hugs but can’t help shrieking in laughter as you let it happen. You’re happier seeing him happy anyway.

Before things can escalate further, a disapproving meow interrupts the two of you, and you both whip your heads to the side to see Ghost sitting in the middle of the room. Her tail twitches in annoyance, and her face seems to be screaming ‘are you lumbering idiots done yet?’.

“Wow, a whole mood-killer. Maybe we should clean up the kitchen, actually,” you suggest while trying to catch your breath, grateful for the reprieve. Jimin’s eyes flit back to meet yours, and you catch the dark look he’s giving you. He knows you’re just trying to escape him right now.

“Fine, but don’t go thinking you’re off the hook even for a second.”

Weeks fly by after your emotion-packed, train-wreck of a night. If anything, it only drew you and Jimin closer than ever. You now had another layer to your friendship, another reason to stick together through thick and thin.

Jimin had attended around three hydrotherapy sessions with Mandu, and to your delight, it actually seemed to be working well! The dog would definitely soon be right on track to return to his former glory, minus the slight greying around his muzzle from old age. There only seemed to be one problem though…

Mandu was shit scared of water.

Every single time, the poor canine would whine and yelp for his owner as if he were legitimately dying. You could only watch on in amused silence, pursing your lips to hold back a cackle as your best friend had to bend down at the pool’s edge in order to calm the dog down.

The staff members working at the specialist pool were understanding at least, but that didn’t stop Jimin’s cheeks from flushing with embarrassment every single time.

“Buddy please, you’ve literally chased down killers and jumped over an entire ravine before. Some water won’t kill you!”

It fell on deaf ears, and Mandu howled extra forcefully in defiance. You couldn’t hold back your snort of laughter this time, the scene of the heated argument between dog and owner way too funny to let slide. Jimin throws a betrayed look at you over his shoulder, grumbling something under his breath you can’t quite catch.

In the end, some of the more patient staff members manage to coax the shaky dog into the water, and it’s with great struggle that they finally manage to get him swimming properly. Jimin has to stay within the dog’s line of sight 24/7, even one moment away and Mandu would start thrashing about and yipping in a panic.

You laugh at Jimin the entire time as you stand back to watch, the looks he sends you in return having ‘traitor’ written all over them. If he didn’t have to stay dutifully by the poolside, you’d be in your right mind to believe he’d storm over and kick you into next week for being so bratty.

“You just need to practice. Get him used to it,” you tell him once you’re all leaving the facility, a freshly dried pooch trotting beside you with fur sticking up in all directions. You can’t help but think the dog reminds you of Jimin like this, back when he’d rushed to the clinic in all kinds of disarray.

“Used to it? Did you see him in there!?” Jimin splutters, squatting down to hold Mandu’s face sternly between his palms. The dog remains unbothered as he flashes you a side-eye for assistance.

“Yes I saw. I’m surprised police dogs don’t spend more time training in water, to be honest,” you muse thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle Mandu’s ears in reassurance. “It’s okay baby boy, you’re not alone,” you coo, smiling when the dog’s tail wags twice in response.

“Baby b…” Jimin trails off, clearing his throat consciously after feeling heat crawl up his neck at the pet-name.

“Anyway, it’s been a few sessions and he hasn’t quite got the hang of it. Why don’t we try spending some time in the water outside of sessions too?” you suggest cheerfully.

“Where? I don’t have a pool.” Jimin cocks an incredulous brow. There’s no way any public pool in these parts would let some random dude and his dog splash around and dirty their space.

You step up and poke Jimin firmly in the chest with one finger. “Did you just never look out the back of my place?”

“You have a pool? What in the hell-”

Jimin’s mouth hangs open in outrage. Even after all this time, he really hadn’t noticed it even once? You had to be fucking with him. “No way.”

“Uhh, yes way? Dude all you had to do was look outside.” You rest your hands on your hips, definitely unimpressed right now but trying your best not to laugh at him too much. He’s already been the butt of all your jokes today. Every single one.

Jimin has to see it for himself to believe it, so the next evening he pulls up to your home with Mandu in the passenger seat. The poor baby is blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits him here, but Jimin only feels the sweet, sweet taste of revenge on his tongue at the notion. After the hell Mandu had put him through these past few weeks, it was time to get payback.

“C’mon boy,” he sniggers. An evil grin stretches across his face and figurative crimson devil horns poke out from his hair.

“How dare you take advantage of him and his inability to be human,” you drawl lazily from the now open front door, and Jimin jumps in his skin from the shock. He hadn’t even made it to the damn porch and you’d already heard him.

“He deserves the slander.”

You shake your head and lead the duo inside, instantly groaning when Ghost and Mandu begin hissing and snarling at each other like their toes have been stepped on. Your fluffy white cat has all her hackles raised in hostility, and the dog in return has his lips drawn back to reveal a row of sharp white fangs.

You’re at your wits end, and similar to the other few instances of Mandu and Ghost meeting, you stomp your foot and stand over the pair as menacingly as you can. “You two are acting like complete animals right now, calm down or you’re going into timeout!”

When the two pets actually shut up, Jimin guffaws with no restraint. You simply huff, as if expecting that your threats would work regardless, and gesture to the glass sliding door adjacent to the kitchen. “It’s out there, are you happy now?”

Jimin cranes his neck and lo and behold, there it is in all its glory. A fucking pool. And to top it all off, it’s even surrounded by a towering black metal fence and gate, as if Jimin didn’t feel stupid enough for not noticing it already.

“So who was wrong and who was right?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you get ready to begin your little ‘home brand’ hydrotherapy session, with Jimin already donning swim trunks in case he has to jump in and intervene at any point. The pool is already much deeper than he’d anticipated, considering the ones at the actual therapy centre were nice and shallow for the dogs in rehab.

You’re dressed in a similar manner, with small tight shorts and a black t-shirt that’s so long it almost hides the fact that you’re wearing pants at all. Jimin has to keep his gaze controlled from raking up the expanse of your bare legs. He wonders if you’d somehow planned to get him all hot and bothered, seeing as it was a warm Spring night that was perfect for taking a dip.

“Okay, well he already seems spooked at the sight of water. You’re going to have to get in,” you say apprehensively, eyeing the way Mandu is already shifting anxiously from paw to paw. You’re all stood beside the shallow end of the pool, the gate fastened shut in case the dog tries to make a break for it suddenly.

Jimin coaxes Mandu forward with soft words of support and praise, taking the steps one at a time. It’s obvious how much the canine is hating this, his ears are pinned flat to his head and his knees are wobbling from the fear. Your heart is shot through with pity for the animal, but he needs to get better at this.

“Here, I’ll help,” you mumble, getting to your feet and stepping into the pool behind the jittery dog. With Jimin pulling him forward by his shoulders, and you urging him onwards from behind, it doesn’t take long for him to start doggy-paddling around. You help Jimin monitor his movements, checking for any signs of discomfort but finding nothing as Mandu works to keep his snout above water.

“I think he’s less nervous because it’s just us,” Jimin comments, a wide smile on his face at seeing his boy paddle around calmly. No frantic thrashing, no barking, no outbreak of chaos as usual.

“Funny that,” you breathe out with a chuckle. The waterline comes up to around your chest at this height, and you shiver as the cool liquid brushes against the underside of your bra. “I can’t go much further, all my underwear’s gonna get wet.”

The innuendo is essentially fresh bait, and you already know you’ve set yourself up nicely just before Jimin chuckles. “Right, why don’t you just go back and take a cold shower then huh?”

“Literally fuck you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get wet?”

You gape at his bold humour, not used to the suggestive way he’s eyeing you as he leads his innocent dog around in the pool. If you were being honest, the ideas he’s putting into your head are absolutely sinful to say the least.

“What if I do?” you scoff, and two seconds later you’re plunging deeper into the refreshing coolness of the water before Jimin can even clap back with something lewder. You’re completely submerged, and for some reason Mandu begins to panic slightly when you vanish from sight.

“Woah, it’s okay she’s not drowning,” Jimin hushes in a serious tone, making sure to support the dog’s body with both arms as the animal treads through the water with powerful kicks of his hind legs. You resurface further down, hair now completely wet and sticking to your head uncomfortably.

“Hey, he got scared for you just then,” Jimin calls out. You feel a tug on your heartstrings and swim back down to the shallower part of the pool.

“Aw, Mandu was worried for me? What happened to hating my guts for stealing Jimin?”

Jimin gives you a weird look at that. “Stealing me? Jesus, do I just exist to be passed around by you guys?”

“Maybe.” You giggle. Something about the assertive way you act has Jimin feeling hot all over, and he’s reminded yet again that it’s a quality of yours he’s come to find madly attractive.

Or maybe it’s just the fact that your basically halfway naked not even a metre away from him. He can’t even focus on the task at hand when he gets a full view of your soaked t-shirt, and how the outlines of your rounded chest are now completely visible to his watchful eyes.

He can’t help but gulp at the thoughts running through his mind. “Hey, how long has it been now? Think that’s about one session’s worth for today.”

“Right, it probably is. Good progress! I might stay out here for a bit though, it’s super hot and my air conditioner basically cracked the shits last night.”

Jimin climbs out of the pool, the hem of his shirt soaked but luckily everything above that dry as a bone. He grabs a towel and dries Mandu off, whispering praises of how well he did to swim properly today. Once he’s done, he opens the gate and lets the dog out to run around your somewhat spacious backyard. Jimin has to look away in disdain, because he knows it won’t be long before his buddy starts rolling around and making himself filthy again.

Jimin returns his gaze back to you, and he stifles a laugh when he sees you randomly floating on your back in the middle of the pool, limbs splayed out like a starfish. You look dead to the world, but honestly, he can’t blame you. It is rather hot for a Spring night.

He barely even thinks about his actions before he’s peeling the shirt from his back. His honey blonde hair becomes tousled from the movement, and he throws away the piece of clothing without batting an eyelid.

As for you, well, now you’re stressed.

Sure, you knew he was an ex-police officer. You knew he worked out daily and took care of himself unbelievably well. Sure, you were happy to just close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t ogling the heck out of him right now, but it just wasn’t happening.

He was absolutely beautiful; you could even say carved from marble and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. It was difficult not to gawk at the smooth way his muscled arms and shoulders tapered down into a gracefully cinched waist, not to mention the nice set of washboard abs and delicious V-line that has your mouth very nearly watering. You remind yourself to ask him later what the large ‘Nevermind’ tattoo stretching along his ribcage means.

“Wow, you could have some shame.” He flashes you that shit-eating grin, but frankly, you’re just ecstatic that he seems to be so confident in his own skin. Once upon a time throughout your friendship, he would have never been this comfortable around you.

“What, am I not allowed to appreciate what you’re showing me? You could’ve easily just left the shirt on,” you complain loudly, rolling over to lay face down in the water in hopes that it would douse the heating of your rapidly burning cheeks. With your eyes and ears underwater, you only feel the ripples hit your skin as he jumps in to join you.

You lift your head and gasp for air, catching sight of him swimming towards you rapidly. “Wait, what are you doing!?” You barely get to shout before he’s picking you up and throwing you back down into the water with a tremendous splash, loud laughter booming from his chest as you scream and struggle in his grip.

“Jimin I swear-”

You cut yourself off by sweeping a massive wave of water in his direction with both arms, grinning wickedly as it smacks him straight in the face. He wipes at his eyes and shakes his head, much like a dog would, and you vaguely register Mandu’s barks of excitement from somewhere out in the yard.

“I’m getting you back for that,” Jimin grunts, and you feel your stomach squirm as he starts moving towards you again.

“No, no, no! Okay I’ll be good, leave me please!”

Your pleas are left unheard as you try to escape from his grasp, but he’s too quick and too strong to evade. Your legs kick up into the air helplessly as he dunks you again, and once you finally resurface, he’s already got you in his hold. “Stop, I can’t compete with you, you beefcake.” You purse your lips and blow a raspberry of pool spittle into his face, struggling within his arms in fear that he would start throwing you again, or even worse … tickle you.

Your loud wails and shrieks of laughter had filled the air for the past ten minutes or so, but you were obviously weaker than he was, and you both knew you were going to tire out much faster. So, to your pleasant surprise, he stops teasing you and simply holds you by the waist, high enough that your entire head and neck are above water.

“You’re absolutely ruthless,” you grumble, bringing your hands up to rest on his bare biceps for support. You marvel at the way the lean muscles flex underneath your fingers as he shifts you to be more comfortable.

It’s so very hot, and you can’t help but notice the heat licking at your abdomen the longer you stay locked in this position. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his face is just above the line of your soaked chest. You just thank God you hadn’t chosen to wear a white shirt at this point.

“Yeah, well you’re just fun to mess with,” he finally responds after a few moments of slowly floating around the pool’s edge. You smile warmly down at him and use both your hands to comb back his dripping hair with your deft fingers. Once again, you’re stunned into silence at how attractive he truly is. Especially when he looks at you like that.

Wait, why is he looking at you like that?

His handsome eyes are dark, and lidded. He’s smirking at you just as he always does, but this time there’s something different. The air around you changes. It feels … charged.

He’s not done, shockingly, and he continues to back you up until you feel the edge of the pool press into your back ever so slightly. He then lets you down to stand on your own two feet now that it’s shallow, your toes brush the pool tiles suddenly and the feeling elicits a small jump of surprise.

He’s closer than he’s ever been, and you feel your breath hitch at the feeling of his bare chest brushing against the material of your saturated bra. His hands come up to trace the line of your waist again, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Jimin,” you sigh, looking up at him through your lashes. Your hands have a mind of their own at this point, and they find themselves tracing the lines of his dripping arm muscles once more. His eyes are staring into your own, burning with a heat and a desire you know all too well.

He wants you, right now.

You immediately cave in, feeling your thighs squeeze together as he descends upon your lips. The kiss is somewhere in between sensual and ravenous, with both your lips parting almost simultaneously in pleasant surprise. He lifts one hand from your hips to tangle into the wet hair at the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as he melds his lips together with yours.

God, you’ve pined after him for so long that you somehow forgot what the feeling was called. You moan softly into the kiss and feel his lips quirk into a smile. He immediately knows just how badly you’d been craving this, and honestly, he’s been thinking about the exact same thing for months now. You both just needed some kind of hot situation to force you together, to give you the confidence to finally take the chance.

“You don’t know how long I’ve just wanted to have you like this,” Jimin says in a low voice, pulling back to catch his breath and rest his forehead upon yours for a moment. Your heart is going absolutely crazy in your chest, and you bring both your hands up to cup his face gently.

“I’ve wanted you since we met in that damn park, can you beat that?” You hum sweetly.

His eyes widen immensely, but then soften in a warm realisation. “Okay, I think you got me there. It’s been a couple of months though. Wow, the park? Really?”

You nod, and he lifts his hand to cover yours over his cheek. His eyes are swimming with a love so deep and profound, you just want to kiss him silly. “Yeah, I mean I don’t think I fully realised it until later on. I was happy to just keep that crazy good friendship of ours, but then I knew all along I was in deep,” you say candidly.

Jimin kisses you again long and hard. “Shit, I think I’m gonna say it. I love you. God I love you so, so much.”

You could almost cry at the heartfelt confession. His smile is blindingly bright, and his eyes are positively gleaming with happiness. You realise then that they weren’t tired anymore. Perhaps they hadn’t been for a while now.

“You saved me, (Y/n). You literally brought me out of a dark place I never thought I’d get to leave.”

“Stop you’re going to make me...”

‘I’m serious,” he murmurs, lifting your face with his thumb and forefinger to catch your overwhelmed expression.

You peck his cute little nose. “I know you are, and the same goes for you! You were always there when I needed you, Jim. I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”

He laughs airily, chest feeling light and fit to burst from your requited affections. He can’t believe that for once, this cruel world had decided to give him something nice for a change. He was … actually allowed to keep you?

At the same time, you’re positively brimming with relief and pure bliss. You jerk forward and catch him in a needy kiss mid-laugh, silencing all your nerves and disbelief as he returns it passionately. You squeak in surprise when he lifts your body – with ease, you might add, thanks to his physique – to sit up on the edge of the pool.

He continues to trail his lips along your skin as you hold him tight, and you love the way he handles you so carefully as if you’ll break in his palms if he’s somehow too rough. You simply can’t wait to see his face when you tell him you like it that way.

As he moves to your neck, you snake your arms around him and drag your nails down his back sensually, needing to feel him against you to prove that this is happening, that this is real and not some kind of dream.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans, nibbling at the juncture of your neck and sucking harshly at the skin there. The contrast of the cool droplets of water clinging to your body as they meet his hot languid tongue has you shivering all over.

You can’t get enough of his lips, and you’re all but suddenly finding out just how skilled he actually is with his mouth. Tiny lustful whimpers fall freely from your throat as his hands move from your neck down to your breasts, and when he begins to brush his fingertips over your nipples through the shirt and bra with a broken groan, you just about lose it.

“Jimin, I want to feel you,” you choke out, pulling him as close as the edge of the pool will allow. Thankfully, it’s shallow enough on his end that he can still reach up to your face, and you instantly take advantage of your height boost to wrap your legs around his body.

You tilt his chin upwards towards you with one finger and part your lips, instantly feeling his tongue slide fervently past them into your mouth. It’s such a forward and sultry manoeuvre that you lose yourself in the pure unadulterated heat of the moment. God, you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

His hands, which had fallen to brace himself on the concrete tiles on either side of your hips, now find purchase on your bare dripping wet thighs. You can’t suppress a shudder when he digs his fingers into those too, tracing circles with his thumbs to let you know where he’s going with this.

You pull away from his irresistible lips with a gasp. “What are you..?”

He smirks, mouth all swollen from your teeth and tongue, eyes pinning you down with a dark gaze full of salacious longing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anything hotter, until he growls, “I wanna take you right here, right now,” with a lick of his lips and downward glance of his eyes.

You’re left speechless, and before you can muster up anything to say in response, he’s hooking his arms underneath your knees and parting your shaky thighs slowly. He angles you closer to the edge of the pool, and you want nothing more than to just be under him. “Oh God. Jimin we should go inside.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, but then a flurry of wild barking and panting causes both of you to whip your heads around. There stands the source of the noise in question, all covered in grass and weeds from romping around your yard, and it bounds incessantly around the towering pool fence.

He’s watching you both excitedly and demands your undivided attention with another yap. If you had to take a wild guess as to what the dog wanted, it would be that he wishes to join in with his family’s little ‘wrestling’ match rather than being locked outside in the lonely backyard. You and Jimin exchange a look.

“Yeah, not in front of Mandu.”

“Never in front of him.”

You both grab your towels and scamper inside like two horny teenagers, very naked and afraid, but still laughing the entire way at your predicament.

Safely within your walls and locked away from the innocence of animals, you pick up where you left off beside the pool. The haphazardly tossed pieces of wet clothing and damp footprints throughout the house are soon forgotten when Jimin gets you in between your sheets. It doesn’t take long for him to have you screaming his name well into the night, and you’re sure that by the end of it, his lips and tongue have touched almost every inch of your body.

That’s not to say you didn’t have a fair go at him too, because when you wake in the morning to turn and see your hickeys scattered across his bare neck and stomach, you swear you’ve never felt more satisfied in your life. Yes, he’d proven himself to be quite a little switch in the making, and you feel positively giddy at the prospect of getting so much more time with him to find out exactly where that might lead.

He was yours and you were his. Together, you had something truly marvellous.

He turns his head with a grunt and catches you admiring his sleeping form. The resulting dazzling smile that splits his face leaves you positively breathless, just as every other aspect about him does.

“Morning,” you both mumble at the same time, and while you scrunch your face up in an endeared cringe, Jimin just laughs sweetly at the clumsiness between you. He moves over to plant the softest of kisses to your forehead, and you cuddle into his side like it’s your designated space to reside until the end of time.

In lieu of the family-shaped hole you’d been carrying with you your whole life, there now appeared a Jimin-shaped puzzle piece slotting into place.

And with that, you could ask for nothing more.

Somewhere in the distant night, a young man taps his finger on the steering wheel of his car as he speeds along the eerily quiet highway.

The late hour does nothing to deter him, and he fights back the drowsiness threatening to pull him under as the road falls away beneath the tyres. He’s been driving for hours, but he persists without rest and soldiers on, full of purpose. Every time he feels a shred of doubt begin to linger in his mind, he glances over to the wrinkled photo resting on his dashboard and the initial burst of vigour returns.

He runs a hand through his long, curly black hair and eyes the photo again. The smiling faces look back at him, and he immediately wonders for the millionth time if he truly is doing the right thing here. The turn-off sign whizzes by his car window, and he realises that now is his last chance to change his mind.

He can keep living a peaceful life if he just continues straight past without looking back, but there’s no way he can do that. He can’t fail his only remaining family any longer.

He veers for the turn-off, taking a deep breath and reaching forward to brush a finger against one of the smiling faces in the roughly crinkled photo. It’s final, he’s made his decision.

I’m coming home.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

TO BE CONTINUED

#jimin x reader #jimin angst #jimin smut #bgwdynamitedads #btsghostie #jimin fluff #jimin scenarios #jimin imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jimin fanfic #BTS jimin #bts fluff #bts fanfic #policeman jimin #s2l au #heavy angst #shy jimin #saladejin

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btsficsforthehumble · 4 years ago

Text

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

A/N: Small s/o to Fae from sope-and-shine for giving me great inspiration for this chapter!

Part Three

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 1.8k

You continue down the street, noticing yourself hold a faint smile from your time with Jimin. You have a feeling Intro to Comp will be more fun than you anticipated with him to keep you company. You really appreciated his easy-going nature that allowed playful digs to seem second nature between you two, even if you had just met.

You glance up at the sun, now starting to feel more intense as it approaches midday. Noticing, you slip your sunglasses out of your backpack and look at your phone to double check directions --- you weren’t too confident getting around campus quite yet. As you are looking at your GPS app, you see a text pop up from an unknown number.

*Hi y/nnnnn it’s your favorite seat partner from intro to comp!! Hehe*

You roll your eyes at Jimin’s text, and save his number.

*You are my only seat partner from intro to comp, Jimin. It’s been one day.*

*:( Don’t be a meanie, y/n. You know I’d be your favorite no matter what :DD*

*Who's to say? Maybe next time I’ll sit closer to Yoongi*

*GASP. You wouldn’t dare*

*Are you willing to put money on that?*

As you text Jimin, you follow the directions on your phone and end up at a cute little grocery store, with a built in cafe off to the side. When you notice it, you get some spring in your step. After seeing the coffee that the other students had in class you were yearning for a cup of your own, especially after your hectic morning.

The barista sent you a smile as you read the menu. Deciding on a nice warm cappuccino, you tell her your order and walk over to the side to receive your drink when she finishes.

She rings you out, and as you wait for your drink you begin running though your mental grocery list. Thankfully your apartment had a decent kitchen, which you knew you’d get good use of as you enjoyed cooking when you had a chance. Not to mention, your parents owned a small bakery in your hometown which meant you were well versed in the art of baking, and often found yourself baking during stressful moments in your life as a distraction. Maybe while you were here you’d pick up some basic supplies for baking… sugar, flour, baking soda, vanilla extract….

Your train of thought was quickly cut off by the barista, sliding your drink across the counter with a smile. You give her one back as you thank her, and stroll over to where you think the baking aisle would be. You take your time, checking out the products in each section to make sure you got everything you needed, beyond just your baking supplies.

As you near the paper goods aisle, you barely see a figure swing around the corner and run smack-dab into a paper towel display, which happened to be less than a meter from you. Unfortunately, the collision caused several of the rolls to go flying --- and one flying hard enough to knock the fresh coffee right out of your hand.

The chaos of the moment causes you to stand a little open mouthed while you stare at the now half-empty cardboard coffee cup rolling on it’s side away from you.

Toward the top of your field of vision you see a pair of men’s sneakers, which causes you to scan up towards his face. He is looking at you with the widest doe-eyed shocked expression you have possibly ever seen. His arms are half reached out, as if he wants to help, but can’t as he already caused the damage. One of the arms reaching out at you has a patchwork of black ink, trailing down over his toned muscles to his knuckles. His oversized grey t-shirt and loose jeans seem to swallow him a bit, which only adds to the almost child-like innocence of his wide eyes. Wavy brown hair frames his face, accentuating his masculine jawline.

Once your eyes connect for a few seconds, surely both wide in shock, he makes a squeaking noise and bends down to collect the scattered rolls.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I took the turn too fast, I’ll go buy you another coffee as soon as I pick these up---” His voice, while speaking rapidly, remained soft and delicate, obviously embarrassed at his mistake. When you bend down to join him in collecting the runaway towels, he cuts himself off to again look at you with a wide-eyed expression.

You smile at him, the surprise from the situation fading as you stretch your upper body as far as you can to grab one that rolled particularly far. “It’s okay, we all can be clumsy sometimes. I promise it’s not that big of a deal, it was just a coffee.” You give him a warm smile in reassurance, wanting to ease his obvious anxiety.

You both stand up, having collected the spilled display and him grabbing your abandoned coffee cup. “Um, what were you drinking? I’ll get you a new one, it’s the least I could do.” His blush deepens with his question, and he nervously glances off to the side as he grabs his elbow of the hand holding the empty cup to make himself smaller.

“It was a cappuccino… but honestly, you really don’t need to, it’s okay.” Sending him another warm smile, you hope to convey your ease at the situation.

“No, I want to. I’ll be right back, okay?” He holds your gaze for a second, seeming to double check that you weren’t going to run away on him.

“Okay.” Once you let out your reply, he sends you a quick smile as he turns around and lightly jogs away from you, back the direction you came from.

You can't help but notice the subtle ripple of his muscles across his shoulder blades as he does so. For being so meek, he sure had quite the muscular build under those baggy clothes. He definitely was “yummy” to use the word Jimin so aptly applied to Yoongi earlier. At the memory, you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle under your breath.

You scan the area quickly, making sure your run in with the boy didn’t leave a mess anywhere in the store. After seeing it clear, you glance back over your shoulder to watch him talking to the same barista. You could tell, even from this distance, that he seemed slightly embarrassed and had a pink tinge to his cheeks. The duality of this guy honestly is blowing your mind… his tattoos and muscular physique would give the impression that he would be super intimidating and confident, but by the way he blushed at attention so easily and was so timid when he apologized to you showed that he was was really a big sweetheart.

As he was now waiting for the barista to remake your drink, standing in the same spot you occupied a few minutes ago, you felt awkward hovering in the spot of the incident. After a quick glance back at him, you thought he would be able to find you pretty easily if you ventured down the aisle further. An aisle down from the paper goods, you found yourself in the exact aisle you were looking for.

Your mind quickly abandoned any prior thought as you took stock of the baking supplies the store had to offer. It looks like you’d be spending more on groceries today than you had anticipated.

“Um, here’s your coffee…” The boy from earlier had returned before you realized any time had passed. Caught, you looked at him, now looking at you, with a hesitant look on his face, as he saw the almost comical amount of stuff you had balanced in your arms. Now embarrassed a tad, you realize you have no hand to take the coffee from him, and it seems like it had just occurred to him too. He looked back and forth between the coffee in his hand and your ridiculously full arms and quickly offered, “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a basket.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I’m sorry, I guess I got carried away!” You sheepishly respond to his kind offer. It was above what a normal person would do. He nodded his head quickly and did his half-jog thing again to go back to the front of the store. You weren’t getting tired of the view, to be honest.

Before you even knew it, he was back and gently removing items from the tetris you created in your arms of baking supplies. “Thank you so much, you really don't have to do any of this…” you feel slightly guilty for the boy’s kindness.

“No, it’s really okay, I shouldn’t have thrown paper towels at you.” As he speaks, he catches your eye and gives you a smile you could only compare to a cute bunny or other small adorable creature. You couldn’t help but fall just a little in love with him right there in the aisle. Now comfortable enough to joke with you, you left out a surprised laugh in response. You tip your head back slightly and feel your cheeks squish up without warning.

“I suppose you got me there. Maybe try to lower the aggression levels on your next grocery store run,” you egg him on slightly, a teasing smile remaining on his face.

“What would be the fun in that?” His eyes hold contact just a millisecond longer than normal, and you swear you see a glint of mischief in them. Ah, so bunny-boy knows at least a little how much of a hunk he is.

“Do you flirt with pretty girls at the store by knocking the coffee out of their hands for fun then?” Your eyebrow is raised slightly, and your tone stays as a teasing lilt.

Apparently at his banter limit, he blushes and gapes for a second. “Just teasing you. Thank you again for the coffee,” you reassure. Full basket and fresh coffee in hand, you flash him one last grin before you make your way around him to head towards the register.

As you leave the store, re-entering the street, you can’t help but hope you run into that guy again. He seemed like a genuinely sweet person that you’d love to be friends with. Starting towards the direction of your apartment, you ponder the chances.

You also ponder what baked treat you were going to throw the rest of your afternoon into. After some mental deliberation, you settled on muffins. Easy to take with you for that pesky morning calculus class. Ugh, at the thought of calculus you groaned inside a little. Not only did you have to grapple with the boring math, but you now have to grapple with the decidedly not so boring boys in your class.

#BTS #ot7 #ot7 x reader #poly ot7 #fanfic

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taeyongdoyoung · 4 years ago

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summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, angst, fluff, romance

author’s note: stay tuned for demon!jongho hehe

warnings: insecurities, confessions, some swearing (like twice?), another secret being revealed, af-i can’t even say it af-ffection 🤢🤢

word count: 1.9k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️chapter six ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen ☠️ spotify playlist

Hongjoong's POV

Surprisingly, building a pool in the ship for Y/N and Soojin to use didn't take much time. Seonghwa, Yeosang, Wooyoung, San and I all worked together because during the past weeks we'd grown closer to the mermaids. And even though I probably wouldn't admit it out loud...they had grown on me.

Looking back at my previous actions, I felt like such an asshole. Doing this, small as it was, was my way of apologizing. I just hoped it would be enough. And yet again, if Y/N managed to forgive me, then maybe, I deserved to forgive myself.

"What are you moping about?" my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Seonghwa.

"Uh...nothing."

"Come on, don't you think I deserve the truth?" he sat down next to me, casually leaning on one side. I was taken aback by his proximity. It's been a while since...I felt so close to him.

"I was thinking about Y/N," I confessed.

"In a murderous kind of way or...?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course not. In a...I can't believe she forgave me kind of way."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Seonghwa looked confused. "Why the long face, Joongie?"

I almost jumped away as if struck. It's been far too long since he'd addressed me so affectionately. I missed that. I missed him.

"Because I don't know if I deserve it."

Seonghwa laughed. I was telling him about feeling like shit and he was laughing. The nerve! I stared at him expectantly. Soon enough, he started explaining himself.

"Do you think I deserve her forgiveness?" he chuckled bitterly. "Ariel is gone because of me and I kept that a secret from Y/N. And she forgave me anyway."

I shook my head.

"Your parents and the sea witch are the real villains, Hwa," I insisted. "There's nothing to forgive."

Seonghwa laughed once again, in total contrast with my sombre expression.

"You know...you and Y/N are not so different after all."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"The first thing...that's exactly what she said after we rescued her from Mingi’s fishnets. There's nothing to forgive. You two are quite similar, actually."

"You know...I think I'll take that as a compliment," I grinned despite myself.

"It is a compliment," Seonghwa assured me.

"And the second thing?"

"Hm?" Seonghwa tried to pretend he had forgotten but I could see right through him.

"You said the first similarity was us saying the exact same sentence. What's the second thing?"

"The second thing...is I'm completely enamoured by the two of you."

I couldn't even begin to process what he was saying. After all my cruelty...he still...It seemed too unimaginable to be actually happening. And yet...

I had to make a joke or else I would break into tears, fall apart and never recover from it.

"Well, that's your own problem, not necessarily a similarity between–"

"Can't you say something normal for once?" Seonghwa groaned.

"What do you want me to say?" I sighed desperately.

"Something honest. Something real."

I smiled sadly.

"I don't deserve you as much as I don't deserve Y/N's forgiveness."

"That's not for you to decide," Seonghwa argued. "And it's not real. Not to me. And I'm certain Y/N will agree."

"Shall we ask her?"

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader's POV

You and Soojin were enjoying the water inside the pool. It allowed you to be close to Seonghwa and Soojin – to Yeosang. And you had Hongjoong to be grateful to. Honestly, he wasn't so bad, after all. He could actually be quite considerate when he wanted to. And he had somehow overcome his jealousy, or at least it seemed that way. So, when he and Seonghwa showed up, almost running, you couldn't help but beam with happiness upon seeing their pretty faces.

"Well, if it isn't my two favourite pirates across the seas," you did your best to sound confident and a bit teasing.

"Don't tell that to Yeosang," Soojin warned, joking. You waved her off and she swam away to the other edge of the pool, to give the three of you some sense of privacy.

"What brings you here?" you asked nonchalantly.

"This is literally my ship, Y/N," Hongjoong reminded you. "You're my guest."

"Semantics," you giggled, not at all taking offense.

"Hongjoong and I have a question for you," Seonghwa explained.

"May I hear it?"

Hongjoong suddenly started playing with his nails, refusing to look into your eyes. Was he nervous? You couldn't believe it. The once terrifying captain now seemed like a good little boy to you.

"What's wrong?" you asked in a soft voice.

"N-nothing," he lied.

"Hongjoong said he doesn't deserve my affections as much as he doesn't deserve your forgiveness!" Seonghwa ratted him out.

"Seonghwa!" Hongjoong complained.

"What? You're the one who suggested asking her."

"I was going to but..."

"Hongjoong, that's nonsense!" you exclaimed.

"Huh?"

"Not about your intentions," you hurried to explain. "I'm certain that you would have said it yourself if Seonghwa had given you a couple more moments to collect your thoughts."

Seonghwa shrugged in a "guilty as charged" sort of way.

"What's nonsense," you continued, "is you believing you don't deserve love or forgiveness. Everyone deserves that!"

"Even me?" Hongjoong inquired sheepishly.

"Especially you! You've been trying so hard to change. You saved me and Soojin from the fishnets and now you built this pool to make me and my sister feel comfortable. If that's not reason enough to be deserving of forgiveness, I don't know what is."

"Do you really mean that?" Hongjoong asked self-consciously.

"Would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

"She has a point. Y/N's super honest about everything," Soojin yelled from the other side of the pool.

"Soojin! You're not supposed to be eavesdropping!" you scolded her.

"Can't help it, you guys are not exactly keeping your voices down."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Do you believe me now?" you said quiet enough for only Hongjoong and Seonghwa to hear.

"I do," Hongjoong whispered, visibly relieved.

"Told you so," Seonghwa muttered under his breath.

"Oh, give me a break."

"Not a chance," Seonghwa smirked and kissed Hongjoong's cheek quickly. Then, he leaned down over the pool's edge to kiss your lips. No sooner had he done that than Hongjoong pushed him inside the water. That was followed by Seonghwa's loud protests.

"Hey! That was exactly how I met Y/N!" he exclaimed a bit later.

"Yeah?" Hongjoong scratched the back his head, as if to search his memory.

"I mean, if you hadn't thrown me overboard, I wouldn't have ended up in a whirlpool and Y/N wouldn't have saved me."

"So, what you're saying is I'm responsible for whatever the two of you have got going on?" Hongjoong joked.

"Don't exclude yourself from the narrative!" you started tickling Hongjoong's legs. Not expecting the attacks, he lost his balance for a moment. But that moment was long enough for you to pull him inside the pool, as well.

"Ugh, no way!" he bemoaned his defeat.

"Who's making all these waves?" Soojin complained. "For a second, I thought I was back in the sea."

The three of you laughed simultaneously, exchanging conspiratorial glances.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa's POV

As I looked at Hongjoong and Y/N laughing in unison, I couldn't help but wonder why we had wasted so much time. I would give anything to have had this perfect peace between the two of them from the very beginning. And yet, this was our journey. Flawed, full of fears and frustrations, but it was ours. And no one could take that away. Or so I thought...

That night, I returned to Hongjoong's room. I was determined to do right by him. And the only way to achieve that was to swallow my pride and talk to him honestly. I didn't want anything standing in the way of our happiness, least of all, our own foolishness. So, I took the first step.

"You still have free space for me?" I asked, a bit nervously, after he opened the door.

"You'll always have a home with me, Hwa," Hongjoong replied sweetly.

"Fuck, I missed you," I admitted. "I know we're literally a few doors apart, but still."

"I get it. You have no idea how badly I've missed you, too," he confessed.

"I want to kiss you," I said suddenly. "Not like earlier," I added, referring to the quick peck on his cheek. "Like before."

"Then, what are you waiting for?" Hongjoong panted desperately.

"I need to tell you something first. I just...want to be completely honest with you. You've probably figured it out already but...I love you. And I love Y/N. Please don't ask me to choose. I can't."

Hongjoong nodded in understanding.

"I wouldn't. I've learned my lesson already. And since we're being honest, I don't want you to choose. I was wrongfully prejudiced against mermaids. But now that I've gotten to know her...I like Y/N and I think I might even grow to love her one day."

I smiled fondly, proud of Hongjoong's change of heart.

"There's nothing that would make me happier, Joongie," I told him and was just about to close the distance between us with a kiss when Hongjoong placed his hand on my chest as if to stop me. I looked at him utterly confused. "Didn't you want this?"

"I did. I do," he corrected himself. "But I have to tell you something. Before it's too late. I would hate to see another secret destroy what we have."

"What's wrong?" I immediately sensed it must have been something really difficult to talk about, judging by Hongjoong's miserable expression.

"Remember that time Yeosang was in Mingi's territory and my ship caught up with his at a suspiciously fast pace?"

I nodded, already hating the direction in which this was going.

"And remember you confronted me about it but I refused to tell you the truth?"

He was stalling. It was beyond obvious and a bit aggravating.

"What did you do?" I asked directly.

"I kinda made a deal with a demon and sold my soul," Hongjoong blurted out.

What. The. Fuck?!?!

"Kinda? You can't just kinda summon a demon! Hongjoong, what the hell were you thinking?"

"We could have lost Yeosang!" he argued. "It was the only way."

"There's always another way! I can't believe you would do something so reckless..."

"I would do it again if it means Yeosang gets to live."

I sighed, unable to find the energy to scold him any further. He probably felt like shit already, considering he'd been keeping it a secret.

"How much?"

"How much what?"

"How much time do you have left until the demon comes to collect? A month? A year?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "The demon didn't specify. He just said he'll take my soul when I've achieved true happiness. Whatever that means. But the fact that you and Y/N forgave me has made me believe true happiness is not too far around the corner."

"We'll figure out a way to stop the demon. I don't know how but we will. I just got you back again. I won't give you up. Never again," I promised and wrapped my hands around his face, kissing him. He quickly let me in and ran his hands through my hair, moaning into my mouth. I smirked against his lips. It was nice to see I still had that effect on him.

"Together?" Hongjoong murmured once I broke the kiss.

"Always," I confirmed and stroked his cheeks.

To be continued...

#ateez #hongjoong #seonghwa #seongjoong #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez x reader #pirate au #mermaid au #writing

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our-heroes-rise · 4 years ago

Text

light of my life

pairing: todoroki x reader

request: Hiya! I was wondering if I could get headcanons for Shoto and his gn/nonbinary s/o during the training camp attack. Like he finds his s/o injured and fighting/they help out with protecting Bakugou and almost get kidnapped? Also, if it isn’t too much trouble, could his s/o have a photo kinetic quirk? They can control and bend light, glow in the dark, and make solid objects out of light like swords, shields and stuff? Sorry if this is too much. Much love! 💛💛

hero name: vigilante!

warnings: angst + swearing + mentions of suffocation (nothing graphic!)

word count: 2,539

a/n: it’s never too much!!! detailed request are fun cause there’s more to work withhh, hehe. also super cool quirk bro i love it! i have an oc with a similar one! btw, i’ve been watching a lot of criminal minds lately so... well if you watched the show you’ll understand why it has the sort of tone it has lol. edit: this is me reading your request again a little later. YOU WANTED HCS? w e l p i wrote you a whole scenario instead because this idea was just too good lol. i still hope you enjoyed it though!

No one ever truly understands the fragility a life holds until it’s a hair’s breadth away from shattering into a million pieces before their eyes. Until it’s ripped from their grasp and dangled like a treat out in front of them. Strangled from their throats by an overwhelming poisonous fog that swirls like fire’s smoke in the depth of their lungs, greedily absorbing every ounce of oxygen with each inhale.

As humans, who stand at the top of the food chain, we often forget how terribly weak we can be against others of our kind. Each of us wants to believe that if it came down to it, if we were thrown into that last millisecond before life or death, that we would fight until our very last breath. But the ugly truth remains; not all of us have that ability. Not all of us are capable of staring down death as it comes hurtling towards us with our teeth bared and fists curled ready for a brawl.

Some of us are simply built to run and there is nothing we can do to change that.

Unless you are the few who choose to reject that belief. The ones who choose to veer their fleeing in the right direction, towards the impending danger and cries for help. The ones that evil should fear the most because those are the strongest and most resilient fighters of all. They turn their fear into heated, unyielding determination, ready to burn through any threat that stands in their path without hesitation because they will never stop running after the ones they are meant to save.

And yet, life has still never felt frailer than in this slow crawling moment of asphyxiation.

Get up.

Leaves cling to your clammy palms, soil caking the skin beneath your nails, fingers clawing at the ground for purchase, dragging your body across the forest floor towards Jiro’s purple shrouded figure still lying limp on the ground.

Get. Up.

Your vision swims, black creeping in from the corners, eyelids mimicking the weight of boulders.

Get up!

Fighting isn’t an option but running is. You can still reach her. You can still save her.

Your arms tremble horribly with the simple effort of lifting your torso off the ground. You grit your teeth, then pray that what little breath you have stored in your lungs is enough, and will your legs to move.

⊹⊹⊹

Shoto hears a rustling in the shrubs behind him, but the elongated teeth that come hurtling towards him don’t allow him the luxury of glancing over his shoulder to see what it was. A barrier of ice prevents any of the villain’s attacks from landing, though it doesn’t hold long before he’s forced to throw up another one, tightening his grip on the unconscious boy slung across his back. There’s an aggravated growl from Bakugou beside him.

He can’t imagine anything good emerging from the strangely colored fog looming behind them. Best case scenario it’s a forest critter fleeing the chaos, in the worst case it’s another villain coming to heard them closer to danger.

Please be safe. Please.

Your excited smiling face just before he entered the trial of courage runs through his mind like an endless loop, tightening the vice-like grip of anxiety around his heart. You had been behind him and Bakugou with Jiro as your partner. He wishes more than ever now that he had traded places with Jiro. Without knowing exactly how far apart each group was, he could only hope that it was far enough so the fog couldn’t reach you. No matter how unlikely the situation was.

The rustling movement comes again, the blade-tooth villain attacks once more, forcing Shoto and Bakugou back a step before Shoto’s able to protect shield them.

“You hear that too, right, half’n’half?” Shoto sees from the corner of his eye that Bakugou has cast his gaze to the trees bordering each side of them, searching.

“Yeah,” he grunts, shifting the unconscious boy’s weight. “I won’t be able to protect both of us if it’s another villain. And I can’t keep this up forever, his attacks are becoming stronger, more enraged.”

“I never needed your damn protection anyway.” Shoto withholds an eye roll. Leave it to the class hot head to remain stuck in his ways even when his own life is at risk. “If it’s another villain I’ll kill him.”

“They’re after you. You’ll have to be more mindful of your attacks.” Another barrage of ice to counter the villain's attack. “If you start another fire you’ll just -”

“Yeah, yeah I get it Icyhot, get off my fuckin’ -” A sharp intake of breath pulls Shoto’s attention away for just a millisecond, barely enough time to see the alarm flicker across Bakugou’s face, then he’s occupied with the villain again.

“What? What is it?” Shoto demands, words chopped through gritted teeth.

“The fuck happened to you?” Bakugou asks instead to presumably whatever has made its exit from the fog.

Shoto’s mind races with a million possibilities. Could the fog have more side effects than knocking its victims unconscious, like physical mutation? Was it another student or a new villain? The villain who created the fog or a different one? Was it -

“Shoto, look out!”

He was too late. His ice wasn’t fast enough but - but the glimmering white shield of moonlight was. The tooth-blade rattled against the hard exterior with four others before withdrawing for the following attack, which he was ready for this time. His next ice wall would be thick enough to hold the villain off for a few extra seconds, that way he could see, he had to make sure it was -

“Y/n.” His bout of relief lasts less than a second after taking in your ragged appearance. “What happened?”

Jiro is sprawled on top of a stretcher with the same moonlight shimmer of the barrier you had protected him with moments ago. She’s unconscious. You lower the floating slab of light holding your partner to the ground beside you, now well away from the poisonous cloud.

“The. . . The fog it just -” you sway heavily, and Bakugou catches you by the shoulder “- it just came out of nowhere. And then... Jiro she got - she took it the worst so I had to. . .”

You shake your head and Shoto can tell that you’re fighting to keep yourself upright. His heart aches, but he can’t go to you yet, the villain isn’t leaving any time for that.

“It doesn’t matter,” you huff, raking your fingers through your hair, bleary eyes focusing on the pillars of ice behind Shoto. “I think there were others behind us but we can’t count on them to take out the source of the fog so our only option is to keep going forward or find a way around. Either way, we’ll have to fight sooner or later.”

“Y/n, you can barely stand. If you try to fight -”

“I’m fine,” you bite out, eyes snapping to Shoto for the very first time. And it isn’t your tone of voice that snaps his mouth shut, it’s the weight of your stare. The stubborn resolve that burns like an untamed flame, roaring in the face of your exhaustion. “If I stop now there’s no getting back up. I won’t be another piece of dead weight for you guys.”

“What about Jiro?”

“Of course, I’ll protect her too. We’ll be okay.”

Bakugou has stopped paying attention to the two of you in favor of the villain, the sound of ice cracking and giving under the thrust of more bladed attacks registers in the back of Shoto’s mind, and he knows its only a matter of seconds before he’ll be needed again. As much as he wants to, he can’t force you back. He knows you too well, you wouldn’t let him get the next word out.

Shoto levels you with a stern look. “We’re only fighting to get away, not to take the villain out. Understand?”

Your lips pull up in a wide wobbly grin that still manages to flood his chest with warmth, reminding him of every reason why he had fallen for you in the first place.

“Got it.”

⊹⊹⊹

He should have known better than to let you walk in the back with the other two. You should have been at the front of the group with him and the other three injured classmates. But the second Midoriya had asked you to be one of the few to walk with Bakugou you agreed without a second thought. Shoto knew there wasn’t any talking you out of it, not when you were aware of how important your role of protection was. If anything or anyone came at Bakugou one of your light shields would be more than enough to keep the threat at bay until the others were alerted.

Of course, you would have had to hear the threat coming in order to defend against it.

“I really would have left the light wielder alone,” Mr. Compress sighed, the sound of his feigned regret fueling the rage coursing through Shoto’s veins. “But after seeing their abilities in the sports festival, I knew they would just get in the way. And we can’t have any more setbacks, so, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off!”

No. No, no, no! Not them too. NO!

Shoto was the first to take off after Compress, sprinting down the path as fast as his legs would carry him, the others just a step behind him. Every fiber of his being buzzed with adrenaline, with the demand to bring you back to him, to reach the others. He was not giving up until every single one of you was safe back at camp. Especially you.

Especially you.

All he could see was your face. Your kind, beautiful face, smiling wide with adoration as he plants a quick tentative kiss on your cheek on one of the first dates he took you on. The way your nose scrunches cutely when he says something unknowingly funny. The way you look at him when you think he isn’t paying attention, how your eyes roam his face, caressing every feature of his with invisible loving hands. The way your cheeks flushed after the first time he kissed you.

The only time he’s ever kissed you.

Shit, he’s only kissed you one time, and he sure as hell won't let it be the last.

He would not let them take the only piece of solace he’s had since reconnecting with his mother. From the moment he understood his feelings for you he vowed to protect your smile, no matter what. It was what brought him comfort, made him feel loved, wanted, happy. He would be damned if he let them rip you away from him, strip you of that smile that breathes life into everyone else around you.

Sometimes it frightens him how quickly he fell for you. There had been no warnings, no road signs, no heads up, just a cliff that he had stepped right off the edge of. Shoto didn’t even know he was plummeting into an endless pit until he realized that there was a weightless feeling in his stomach every time he saw you, every time you spoke to him, every time you looked in his direction. And by then it was too late. He had no hope of rescue, already too far gone.

Sometimes it frightens him how easily you caught him, worried that he’ll do something to make you let go. To scare you away for good.

But then he remembers moments where you look at him with those eyes that could melt even the coldest heart, hold onto his hand as if the next second he might disappear, and remind him of the reasons you will always love him, no matter the differences that might come between you.

And he can’t help but feel safe.

He won’t lose you.

⊹⊹⊹

“Poor Todoroki Shoto,” the scarred villain whispers just as Shoto’s hand clasps around only one of the marble casings.

His heart sinks at the statement as hits the ground rolling, ignoring his spinning vision to stare down at the marble in his hand, trying to see who he was holding.

Did that bastard mean he had grabbed the wrong one? Were you still -

Before he can finish scrambling to his feet to chase back after the villain, there’s a flash of blinding light and a sudden limp weight in his arms. Blinking away the spots in his vision he quickly makes out your sleeping face.

The relief that floods his chest is selfish, he knows that, but in the moment he can’t bring himself to care as he crushes you to his chest, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Weak fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt and he looks up in time to catch Bakugou vanish into the portal with the other villains.

He’s torn between a whirlwind of emotions, pushing and pulling him in all directions. Shame, regret, anger, devastation.

“Shoto?”

His gaze drops to you to see you staring up at him through tired, lidded eyes, worried, and confused. Then there’s terror in your moment of clarity, you go shooting upwards, head whipping around.

“No! Bakugou! Tokoyami!” You sob, fingers twisting further into his shirt. “Where are they, Shoto? What happened?! I was trying to - they were - oh god, no, I couldn’t -”

“Tokoyami is here. He’s here.”

“And Bakugou?”

When Shoto can’t bring himself to respond he watches your expression crumble with complete remorse.

Where was that smile he had sworn to protect now?

Shoto curls you back towards his chest, where you release the worst of your sobs, soaking through his shirt while he tries his best to comfort you without words. Because he knows there aren’t any to take away the pain you’re enduring, thinking that you could have done any more than you had. So, he holds you tight, tucks your head under his chin, presses a kiss to your hair.

It’s less than a minute later when your sobs subside and he realizes that you’ve likely fainted again. The pros arrive a few minutes after, followed by the police and paramedics, who usher you into an ambulance along with the other injured students. On the ride to the hospital, you drift in and out of consciousness, each time squeezing the hand he has wrapped around yours, reassuring him and the paramedics that you’re okay, you’re just tired, that it’s just a little hard to breathe.

Even half-alive you still try to keep people calm, make them feel at peace.

Moments before reaching the hospital you come too for one more minute, then turn to him, gaze hazy, but he recognizes that same look from before, from just after you emerged from the poisonous fog.

Voice thick with the painkillers that are pumping through your blood, you whisper to him, “We’re going to get him back, Sho.”

Shoto manages to give you a small smile, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “We will.”

#bnha #mha #bnha todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #fumikage tokoyami #jirou kyouka #bnha shoji #bnha season 3

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exoticarmyofcrowns · 4 years ago

Text

dilwale | pjm [m.]

pairing: jimin x fem!reader

summary: a trip across europe turns a bit more interesting when you meet park jimin, a shameless flirt with a penchant for trouble. dilwale (dil-wah-ley): [hindi] the good-hearted, the strong-hearted, lover

genre: romance, fluff, minor angst (pining), smut, dilwale dulhania le jayenge!au (this is not a thing but i made it one oop)

warnings: LOTS of pining (god so much pining) / some cursing / copious amounts of fluff / (bad) flirting / banter / allusion to being taken advantage of BUT IT’S FALSE / lots of feelings / lots of consent (bc consent is sexy) / switch!jimin / switch!reader? / the smut is pretty soft ngl / praise kink sorta? (bc come on is it a jimin fic w/o it) / creampie / excessive use of the word sweetheart / thicc!jimin / unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT PLSSSS) / tease!jimin / riding / aaaaand i think that’s it??

word count: ~15.6k

a/n: hello ya girl is BACK w another self-indulgent fic hehe THIS ONE’S FOR MY FELLOW DESIS AND BOLLYWOOD LOVERS!!!! ddlj is my absolute favorite movie in the entire world and i just wanted some representation dammit lol this is heavily based on the plot of that movie but obviously with some changes for my own artistic purposes. shout out to @moonlytae for helping me decide which member it should be and @joonies-girl-08 for the fountain scene u guys are the best! as always, a big thank u to @jooniecult for ur expertise, u da best! i hope you all enjoy this, i had so much fun writing it!

“Shit shit shit!”

You’re sprinting through the terminal, checking the directory clutched in your hands as you try to both watch where you’re going and find the damn platform you’re supposed to be on. Your friends and you have been planning this trip for weeks now and you’ve already fucked up by waking up late with barely any time to spare as you frantically waved down a taxi to the train station. You and your friends are taking the Eurail across Europe to celebrate your college graduation and you really should have been at the station about 20 minutes ago but you can blame your overexcitement—and the subsequent lack of sleep—for that.

Of course, luck was not on your side as there was an accident mere minutes from the station. London traffic at its finest. You made the split-second decision to abandon the cab, throwing an apology and a few bills over the divider before running the rest of the way. A glance at your watch says that you’re mere seconds away from missing your train and the thought pushes you to pump your legs faster, backpack slapping against your back with bruising force as you attempt to drag your small carry-on behind you.

Turning a swift corner, you catch sight of the platform you’re looking for. The train doors are still open, thank god, but you know they will close any second. You’re not sure that you’re gonna make it when you see a hand pop out of the open doors, beckoning you to grab hold. Figuring you have nothing to lose now, you take it, arm jolting you through the automatic doors just as they slide shut.

Collapsing with relief, you rest your hands on your knees as you try desperately to catch your breath. The latch on your suitcase has snapped open, spilling the contents onto the floor. You curse, frantically stuffing the carrier full again. You don’t necessarily have anything to hide but you’re not really looking to literally air out your laundry to strangers. Speaking of, you remember you never actually thanked your savior for pulling you to safety. You look up, an expression of gratitude on your lips when you catch sight of the person who helped you onto the train. Your mouth dries as you struggle to form a coherent sentence.

To say he’s gorgeous would be the understatement of the century. He’s absolutely stunning, almost fairy-like with his delicate features and mischievous eyes. It’s a direct contrast to the way he’s dressed, t-shirt tucked into sinfully-tight jeans and a leather jacket thrown over his shoulders. His hair is the softest shade of pink you’ve ever seen and you’re tempted to run your fingers through it.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snaps you out of your reverie. You glance up at the man’s face to see his eyes glimmering with mirth and you know you’ve been caught checking him out. You straighten abruptly, cheeks warm with something other than exertion.

“Um,” you begin, cursing yourself internally for how lame you sound, “th-thank you. You know, for pulling me in.”

“It was no problem.” The words come out like a purr and the effect is not lost on you, heart pounding just a little harder in your chest.

You clear your throat nervously and look away from his piercing gaze. You realize you’re both standing in the gangway connection. The handsome stranger seems to realize this at the same time because he glances over to the door and drops his own bag to try and pry it open. He struggles for a moment before knocking loudly on the door.

“Anyone over there?” He tugs uselessly on the door one more time before stepping away, hand running through his pink strands in frustration. He glances over to you looking a little sheepish. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a little.”

“Ah.” You sigh, not sure what else to say so you remain silent. You go to check your phone but remember that it had died midway through your taxi ride. Flopping down onto the ground, you figure you’re gonna be here a while so you pull out the book you brought to keep yourself entertained and flip to where you left off.

Just as you’re getting back into the story, you see the stranger settle down next to you a little closer than you would have liked. While you can admit the man is attractive, you’re still strangers. You have no idea who this guy is; he could be a mugger for all you know! Okay, that was probably not very likely but you can never be too careful.

“So,” he begins, leaning his head back to peer at you, “have we met before? You look awfully familiar.”

You frown. Of course you haven’t met him before, you’re sure you would have remembered such a stunning man. Not that you’d admit that out loud. “Uh…no?” It comes out a bit harsher than you intend but he recovers well.

“Ah, I see. My mistake.” He flashes you a sweet smile and you return it, albeit a little uncomfortably. You try to return to your book but he interrupts you yet again. “It’s just that, your eyes…”

“What?” you practically snap. “What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“Nothing,” he simpers, eyes boring into yours. “They just remind me of someone.”

“Oh? Who?” The beginnings of a sneer are curling at the corners of your mouth but you manage to bite it back. You cannot, however, keep the impatience from leaking into your tone.

“My mother,” he answers back, gaze turning fond if not a little dreamy. “Her eyes are just like yours, soft and warm and—”

“Listen, that’s very sweet and all but I’m just trying to get back with my friends so if you could, just please leave me alone?” You’re trying really hard not to get tight with this guy but you know his type—pretty boys with an agenda. This trip is for you and your girls and you’re not about to let some schmuck ruin it for you.

He raises his arms in a gesture of defeat. “Alright, alright. I was just trying to break the ice. No need to worry.” Settling back against the wall, he tips his head back to close his eyes and you relax slightly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him shift uncomfortably but choose to ignore him in favor of your book.

“Excuse me, are these…?” You feel a nudge against your arm and you frown, directing your attention back to him.

Dangling from his fingers is a thong. Your thong, to be exact.

A gasp of mortification tears itself from your throat as you rip the offending garment from his grasp, rushing to shove it back into your backpack. The man has the nerve to laugh at your embarrassment.

“I thought so,” he chuckles, a dangerous smirk curving at the corners of his plump lips. Even his mouth is a pretty pink. You catch yourself staring again and quickly curse yourself, pushing yourself further against the wall of the gangway and away from him.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a black lace kind of girl.”

You whip around to fix him with your most annoyed glare. The fuck was wrong with this guy? “Excuse me?”

He’s still wearing that insufferable smirk and you have to fight the urge to slap it off his stupid face. “It’s just…you seem so pure. Sure that ain’t a little out of your league, sweetheart?”

Mouth agape, you can’t even formulate a proper response to that. “I don’t see how that’s any of your fucking business?”

You congratulate yourself a little when you see his eyes widen fractionally, clearly taken aback by your response. Serves him right, creepy bastard. He drops the subject and you raise your book again to resume reading, albeit with a bit more force than necessary. You can hardly focus on the words, too caught up on the last few minutes to read properly.

You’re halfway through a mental smackdown of Cotton Candy Headass when you feel something making its way into your lap. Startled, you look down only to see the little gremlin squirming his way into your space and under your book. You shoot him an incredulous look, unsure whether to laugh at the sheer gall or scream in his face.

“Don’t stop on my account.” He smiles disarmingly bright and you would be entranced if you weren’t so annoyed. “I was just curious to see how you could read a book upside down. Very interesting style!”

You glance at the way you’re holding your book, face warming at the realization that you were in fact holding it upside down. Fuck.

“Alright, jackass,” you begin, pushing against his shoulders in an effort to dislodge him from your lap, “enough is enough—”

Just then, the cabin door slides open revealing one of your friends. You and Cotton Candy Creep turn your heads to your friend at the same time. Your friend raises a brow at you in a silent question.

“___? What are you doing here?” You sigh, opening your mouth to answer her, but a low voice beats you to it.

“Why hello there, my dear. Did I keep you waiting?” Picking yourself up from the ground, you roll your eyes as you gather your bags. First you, now your friend? This guy doesn’t give up.

“I was scared you had missed the train.” Your friend, Sheena, says the words to you but is looking at your strange companion, eying him up like she wants to devour him.

“Oh, not to worry, darling, I caught it just in time.” He sidles up next to Sheena, leaning against the wall with one arm.

“Good, I was…worried.” She twirls a lock of hair around her finger and you have to remind yourself that you love your friend more than you want to throttle her at this moment.

You sling your backpack across your shoulders before picking up your suitcase. If you had gotten the chance to eat breakfast this morning, you’re sure you would have thrown it up already.

“By the way, what’s your name?” He holds a hand out like a gentleman, as if he weren’t just commenting on your lingerie not ten minutes ago.

“Sheena…”

“Park Jimin, at your service” he returns, grasping Sheena’s proffered hand to kiss the back of it, and you decide you’ve finally had enough.

“Oh, Sheena~” you sing-song, wiggling your fingers in a mock wave. “I’m over here. Shall we go?”

She has the decency to look sheepish as she turns to you, reaching out for your arm so she can pull you to her side.

“Allow me.” Jimin, the little imp, slides the door open with a flourish, sending a last wink at your friend. You usher your friend through before she can get another word in edgewise. As you step through the door, you make sure to knock his knees as hard as you can with your suitcase, taking pleasure in the hiss of pain that escapes him.

As the door shuts behind you, you can’t help but mutter, “I hate men.”

“___, come on! Are you ready?”

You have just finished placing the finishing touches on your makeup when Sheena calls you from the bedroom. Sending one last appraising look, you deem yourself ready and make your way out of the bathroom.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you chuckle, throwing your small purse over your shoulder. “Let’s go!”

Grabbing your other friends, your small group makes its way down to the lobby. The hotel is having a party sponsored by Eurail in the middle of Paris and you can’t help but feel a little excited. You’re having a great time so far, surrounded by your girls, in the city of love no less, and you feel giddy at the thought of what’s to come.

You follow the directions on the invitation and find yourselves in a ballroom located in the back of the hotel. The doors open and the sight that greets you is—

Underwhelming.

The room is dotted with tables and waiters traverse the space, glasses full of bubbling liquid balanced skillfully on trays. It’s almost unnervingly silent as a drab opera singer sings on what you think is actually a dance floor that has been repurposed into a stage. You exchange wary glances with Sheena and the other girls before making your way through the cluster of tables and settling on one closest to the bar and furthest from that damned opera singer.

“Oh god, this party is so boring,” Sheena whines beside you, picking up a menu and flicking through it.

“I told you it would be,” one of your other friends, Jennie, pipes up.

“Yeah well, you also said that the train would get into an accident, the hotel would burn down, and we’d be poisoned by the food so forgive us if we were inclined to ignore your premonitions.” You roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your foot to let her know you were joking,

“Hey, hey, ___. Look.” Sheena shakes you as you scan the appetizers, prompting you to look up to where she’s pointing at the entrance. “It’s your loverboy. And he brought friends.”

“Oh crap,” you whine, whipping back around and sinking lower in your seat. You hope he hasn't seen you.

“‘Loverboy’?” Jennie asks with a frown.

“I found him curled up in ___’s lap when I went looking for her.” Sheena smirks at you while you try to melt into the floor.

“Shut up, Sheena, you know it wasn’t like that. Especially considering the fact that the two of you started flirting right in front of me.”

“Oh. come on. Lighten up, it was only a bit of harmless fun. I wouldn’t dream of taking your man.”

You splutter. “He’s not my anything—”

“Hey! We should invite them over!” Jennie smiles obliviously. You love the girl to death but sometimes she can be a bit…airheaded.

“That is a great idea, Jen,” Sheena shoots you a devious look and before you can stop her, she’s already flagging the group over. You wish the earth would open and swallow you up—better yet, take both you and Sheena so you can have the pleasure of throttling her yourself.

The boys make their way over to you before you can think of an escape plan and you stare resolutely at your menu in an effort to block them out.

“Hi, Sheena.” His voice is just as soft and seductive as you remembered and it sends a familiar heat flashing across your skin but you quickly stifle it. He looks good, you notice begrudgingly. He’s wearing black slacks and a black blazer with a white t-shirt to give a casual vibe. He’s topped off the look with pink tinted glasses that make him look like some celebrity. You think it would be pretentious if it were anyone else but unfortunately, he makes it work. The slacks hug his legs almost sinfully tight, highlighting the strong muscles of his thighs and the rounded curve of his—

Snap out of it! You abruptly stop your scrutiny there, shoving your face back into your menu. You will not let him affect you like he did in the train. You won’t. Still, you can’t help sneaking a glance over to him only to find he’s already staring at you. “Hello, sweetheart.” He shoots you a devastating smile along with a wink and you sneer, abruptly turning away.

“Hey, Jimin.” Sheena simpers and she’s laying it on a little thick, you think, but you know it’s all for show. “Who’re your friends?”

“Ah, this is Jung Hoseok and Jeon Jeongguk.” Jimin points first to a young man with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and then to a slightly younger man whose eyes and nose crinkle cutely as he waves in greeting. The three of them are stunning and you’re left wondering how all the attractive people seem to find each other.

Birds of a feather, you suppose.

The boys make themselves comfortable at your table and you try your best not to grimace. Jimin may be an asshole but the other two have done nothing wrong. You actually quite like them. You’re enjoying listening to a story about the time they got kicked out of a karaoke bar when you overhear parts of another conversation happening across the table.

“You know, Sheena, I think I’ve seen you before.” Jimin is leaning close to your friend as if they are sharing some sordid secret. An unknown emotion churns in your stomach.

“Oh, really? What makes you say that?”

“Your eyes. They remind me of someone.” You stiffen. Now, there’s a familiar line. The nerve of this bastard, reusing pick up lines? How much more pathetic can you get? You clear your throat, trying to appear interested in your conversation with Jeongguk and Hoseok while also keeping tabs on your friend.

“Oh? Whose?”

Jimin has a coy smile curving the corners of his plump lips. “My mother.”

Sheena coos at his words and you can’t bear to hear any more. You stand up abruptly, glasses clinking on the table with the force of your exit.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you murmur to no one in particular and stalk over to the bar. You’re craving the burn of a shot or even the dim haze of wine but you abandon those notions in favor of a water, flagging down the bartender. You chug it a little desperately, relishing in the cooling effect as the water tempers the annoyance you feel for your unwelcome companion. Taking a deep breath, you push away from the bar and make your way back to the table where you find Jeongguk and Hoseok complaining about the music choice.

“I’m just saying, this party could be bumpin’ if the music wasn’t shit.” Hoseok glances over at the poor woman singing her heart out on the dance floor.

Jeongguk sits up suddenly, a devious smile lighting up his face. “Let me see what I can do. Come with me.” He grasps Hoseok’s arm as he gets up, hoisting the man out of his seat.

“Where’re you going?” you ask Hoseok but he looks just as lost as you do. The younger man tugs at his arm, dragging him off to the other side of the room.

“Beats me.” Hoseok shrugs and he disappears with Jeongguk in the sea of waiters and tables.

You’re left a little dumbfounded as the pair leaves you but you shrug it off. You try to enjoy the evening before remembering that Jimin is currently flirting his way into your friend’s pants and your mood sours once again. Just as you’re in the middle of planning your escape, the lights dim and a voice comes on the loudspeaker.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” you recognize the voice as Hoseok’s and you can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “We are now going to progress to some beats that are a bit more…exciting. Ready, set, and begin!”

A song with a heavy bass and a pleasing trap beat bleeds from the speakers and the room seems to buzz with life all at once. A few squeals and cheers fill the air as people rush to the dance floor at the center and begin dancing wildly. You laugh, shocked that the boys managed to liven up this party in a matter of minutes.

They walk back over to your table with self-satisfied smirks on their faces. You smile widely at them as they approach. “That was awesome! How did you manage that?”

“I just hacked into the speaker system and synced up my music playlist.” Jeongguk looks rather bashful but still proud as he flashes you a sweet smile.

“Shall we dance, then?” Hoseok bows with a flourish and you giggle fondly, nodding excitedly. You glance over your shoulder and spot Sheena still with Jimin except now he has his hand out in a question and she takes it before following the pink-haired man to the dance floor.

You don’t feel so good anymore but you’re determined not to let some prick ruin your night. So, you turn back to the boys resolutely and lead them into the throng of writhing bodies.

Jeongguk and Hoseok, you quickly learn, are incredible dancers. The power with which the two of them move is truly a sight to behold and you’re having a hard time keeping up. You manage to have a good time, though; when Jeongguk sees you struggling, he strikes a ridiculous pose and makes up the silliest moves, making you laugh merrily.

Unfortunately, you can’t keep your gaze from flitting over to Jimin and Sheena every so often. They seem to be getting awfully close, you think as Jimin pulls your friend close to him and the sight is almost too much. Why, you’re not sure and you don’t want to let yourself think about it. You thought you were being discreet about it but Hoseok seems to notice your shift in demeanor.

“You’ve been moping for the past few minutes now.” He nods at something over your shoulder and you know exactly what he’s referring to. “Why don’t you go ask him to dance?”

Your eyes flicker back to the happy couple of their own volition and you spot Sheena leaning up to whisper something in Jimin’s ear. You wish you were anywhere but here.

“What? No, I— That’s not…no,” you finish lamely, knowing full well that was not the least bit convincing but not finding the will to care. Hoseok looks unimpressed and you’re about to reassure him when you feel a gentle tap on your shoulder.

“May I cut in?” The velvety smooth voice caresses your skin and god you wish he’d stop appearing everywhere. You’re almost rendered speechless as you stare into Jimin’s eyes, soft and playful with an undercurrent of mischief that both intrigues and irritates you. You glance at Jeongguk and Hoseok but they merely share a look, smirking at each other as they not-so-subtly back away from the two of you. Left with no other option, you gently sway to the beat of the song, allowing yourself to fall in rhythm with Jimin.

It’s awkwardly silent for the first few moments before Jimin finally pipes up.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He steps minutely closer to you and all you can see is Sheena pressed up against him as she whispers in his ear. An inexplicable anger flashes through you.

“Why do you make it so easy to hate you?” you fire back.

Jimin raises a brow at your tone but otherwise shows no outward reaction to your hostility. It only serves to irritate you further.

Just to make matters worse, he starts laughing. It’s a soft, tinkling sound and you hate how much you like it. “I think I know why.”

“You don’t know shit,” you spit, fists clenching at your sides. You have half a mind to smack him right there on the dance floor but you know it would only cause a scene. That’s the last thing you need on this night from hell.

Suddenly, he grasps your waist and spins you around so that your back is pressed to his front. You try to squirm away but he’s surprisingly strong, keeping you locked in place with one hand around your waist and the other caressing up the length of your body. You tremble as he begins to sway.

“I think you like me.” The words are nothing but a whisper, soft breaths fanning out across your skin and creating goosebumps in their wake. The music has slowed significantly and you can feel the bass reverberating through your chest.

“L-Like hell I do!” You curse internally at the way your voice stutters but he merely laughs, sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Then why can I feel you shaking?” Jimin guides your hips with his, coaxing your body to move according to his whim. You feel him along every dip and curve to the point you’re not even sure where he ends and you begin. It’s sensual and dizzying and ridiculously sexy.

“Because I can’t stand the feeling of your hands on me.” You’re desperate to hold onto some shred of your dignity, no matter how slim, but then you feel the tip of his nose glide up the length of your neck and your brain short-circuits. You only just manage to reign in the urge to bare yourself to him, to submit, but you’ll be damned if you let him have any more control over you.

“Then why haven’t you pulled away yet, hmm?” You swear you feel his lips brush your shoulder and your eyes slip closed of their own accord. “I’m not even holding you anymore.”

It takes a second for his words to register but when they do, it’s as if he’s dumped a bucket of cold water over you. Your eyes snap open as you realize his arm is no longer holding you in place but merely draped across your middle in a loose embrace. You could pull yourself free if you just moved slightly forward.

You’re not even sure when that happened and you know he knows this. This is just a game to him and you? You’re just another plaything at his disposal. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you practically rip yourself away from Jimin as if you’ve been burned.

“I-I have to go.”

“Wait—” Jimin starts to say but you don’t wait around long enough to hear him out. You’ve seen and heard enough for one night,

Grabbing your purse, you all but run out of the ballroom, barely remembering to shoot Sheena a text that you were heading back to the room early. Tears sting at your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, especially not over the likes of Park Jimin. He’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a man looking for a quick lay. He’s not worth it, you desperately try to remind yourself.

But somehow, as you wait for the elevator, as you feel the ghost of his touch on your waist and the soft caress of his breath on your skin, your heart refuses to believe that as the truth.

It’s been 3 days since what you’ve deemed as The Incident, and you’re happy to report that you have yet to see Park Jimin.

Of course, you’ve seen him—you’re on a tour together after all—but you’ve made it a point to actively ignore him any chance you get. Sometimes you’ll run into Hobi (as he’s reminded you numerous times to call him) or Jeongguk and talk to them for a while but you don’t linger too long, for fear he’ll just pop up out of nowhere. You feel bad because you genuinely like the other boys but every time you catch sight of Jimin’s pink cotton candy head, your heart beats a little faster and your skin runs a little warmer and you just can’t handle that headache right now.

The Eurail train has stopped in a quaint little town on the way to Zürich and you decide to take the opportunity to stretch your legs. Besides, the sooner you get off the train, the less likely you’ll have an encounter with the object of your (des)ire.

Stepping down gently, glance around the station and spot a little road that leads further into the town. You don’t really have a destination in mind, figuring you’ll just walk for a little and then make your way back. You walk until you spot a quaint little souvenir shop and decide to check it out.

A familiar head of pink by the cashier makes you pause in the doorway and you nearly turn around to walk right out but he sees you and calls you over.

“___! Come over here, I need your help.”

You shift from foot to foot. You could just ignore him and continue on your way but the guilt that would follow would be unbearable. So you swallow your pride and make your way over to him, silent and cautious.

As you approach, you see him pouring over a small spread of trinkets. They’re little handmade pieces of jewelry—rings, bracelets, necklaces, you name it. They’re quite cute and would normally have you grinning and cooing but your present company puts a bit of a damper on that for you.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he begins nonchalantly. He doesn’t look up as you approach and you’re not sure if you’re annoyed or grateful.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I’ve been…busy.”

Jimin looks at you then, a single brow raised that tells you he doesn’t believe you, which is fair. You don’t even believe you. “We’re on a tour of Europe together. What could you possibly be doing?”

You don’t really have an answer for that so you remain silent.

“Okay, nevermind that,” his voice brightens up significantly and you’re marginally grateful for the fact that he’s changing the subject. “Help me pick out a souvenir to take back home!”

A smile plays around the corner of your lips and you quickly bite it back. You will not be endeared by him. Your eyes catch on a small bracelet and you can’t help but fall in love instantly. It’s a delicate gold chain threaded with beautiful black pearls, a small pink flower resting on the end near the clasp. Your lips part as you stare at it for a little too long and you quickly snap yourself out of it to look back at Jimin. He’s already staring at you with a soft look in his eyes. The expression makes your heart clench so you look away, clearing your throat again.

“I-I don’t know,” you dismiss, glancing out the window where you can just barely make out the train. “Just pick something, we’ve gotta get back to the train soon.”

“Alright, alright. Calm down, sweetheart. Gimme two minutes.”

You check your phone impatiently, noting the time. The conductor had said you were stopping for about half an hour before you would be on your way again. You don’t remember the exact time you stopped but you know it’s getting close to the time you should be leaving.

“Sweetheart, can you come here a second? I always forget which coins are which.” Jimin beckons you over, a collection of francs in his palm and you send another despairing glance at the train.

“Jimin, I have no clue but come on, we’ve gotta go!”

You decide to stop waiting on his slow ass and run out of the shop. You make it to the platform just in time to see the train pulling away. Jimin takes a bit longer than you, practically having to sprint after you, but he stops abruptly as he notices the retreating train.

He starts to laugh in disbelief and you can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes. All your luggage and most of your money is on that train. And now you’re stranded out here, with Park Jimin no less. You try to hold back but you feel a few tears slip down your cheeks as the train disappears from view.

Jimin seems to notice your distress because he begins to panic a little himself. “S-Sweetheart, come on. It’s okay! Look, at least you’re not alone. I’m here with you!”

That only makes you cry harder, a small sob escaping your lips as you smother your face between your hands. Jimin falls silent, unsure how to handle your emotional display but doesn’t leave your side. It’s both comforting and confusing.

It takes a few minutes but you eventually regain your composure, adamant in avoiding Jimin’s probing gaze. You can’t believe you cried in front of him like a child. You’re embarrassed and annoyed and tired but you channel that energy into fixing yourself up to look like a functioning human being and marching over to the ticket booth and finding out the next train to Zürich. Just your luck, the next train isn’t until tomorrow morning. You quickly text your friends what happened, letting them know you’re safe and that you’ll meet them in Zürich tomorrow afternoon. You sigh, wondering how what should have been an exciting trip turned into such a mess.

“So what’s the damage?” Jimin asks. Oh, right. That’s how. You fight not to roll your eyes as you relay the information. “Oh, that’s no problem! We can just—”

“Oh no,” you cut him off abruptly, seething with annoyance. He thinks you want to spend any length of time with him after he made you both miss your train? Not a chance. “We are not doing anything, I am going to find my own way to Zürich. You’re the reason we’re stuck here in the first place. I want nothing to do with you.”

Jimin looks taken aback but then his expression hardens. “Listen here, sweetheart, I know you’re pissed but you’re being a bit of a bitch. I’m sorry I made us miss the train but splitting up is the literal worst thing we could do right now. This is not to patronize you but you are a woman alone in a foreign country, I’m not about to abandon you just because you don’t like me. Now let’s just play nice and try to find a place to stay for the night so we can catch the first train out of here and be on our merry way. Deal?”

You blink, surprised by the force of his outburst. Fuck. He’s right. You know he’s right and the wave of shame that overtakes you is well-deserved. You duck your head, thoroughly chastised, and nod at him, following his lead as he turns around and begins walking back in the direction of the town. Glancing at him timidly, you murmur a soft apology.

He turns his head in your direction but doesn’t look at you. “What was that?”

You huff, squaring your shoulders. “I’m sorry, okay? You were right.”

Jimin looks at you then, a blinding smile on his face and you feel your body relax a little. At least he’s not mad at you.

“No problem, sweetheart. Things like this happen. We just gotta make the most of it.” He falls in step with you so that you’re no longer trailing slightly behind and the gesture warms your heart just a bit.

“Why do you keep calling me sweetheart?” You thought it was just a cheap way to endear himself to you, especially back when he didn’t know your name but the way he says it doesn’t feel gross. It feels almost…nice.

“Oh, uh,” Jimin rubs the back of his neck a little shyly, the beginnings of a blush staining his cheeks, and you can’t help the swell of affection. “Sorry. It just kinda…stuck?”

“No, it’s…it’s fine.” You look away, suddenly finding the scuffed material of your shoe very interesting.

Clearing his throat, Jimin forces out a gruff, “Good,” and the two of you fall into a companionable silence.

Eventually, you stumble across a small inn a little ways into town, about a 25 minute walk from the train station. Jimin ducks inside, asserting that he’ll handle the cost of the room to make amends. You try not to smile after him as he leaves.

Key in hand, Jimin leads you to a small but cozy room on the third floor. It’s very quaint, a single bed dominating the room with an old settee off by the window. There’s even a small fireplace and a tea set. You slip your purse off your shoulder as you settle near the mantle.

“Wow, what a cute room!” Sitting on the couch, you marvel at its soft texture. “Where’s yours?”

“Yeah, about that…” Jimin hasn’t really moved from his spot by the door, rubbing at his neck again in what you recognize as a nervous tick. “This was the only room they had so, uh, we gotta share?”

“What?” You blink, hoping that he’s joking.

“I-I know that it sounds weird but there really was no other option. I’ve already decided to sleep on the couch and you can��”

“Listen, I am fine with sticking together and getting back to our friends but this is just— I can’t…I can’t share a room with you.” You stand up abruptly but you don’t have any idea what to do with yourself.

“Why not?” Jimin seems confused and honestly, you are too. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, especially since you’ve kinda-sorta made up but this is little more than you can handle.

Glancing at him, you shake your head, words failing you. How can you explain that you just feel too much for him to be comfortable around him? How do you tell him that you’re having second thoughts about him being a total pain in the ass or about the stutter in your heart whenever he so much as glances at you? You can’t so you just send him a helpless look before storming out of the room, a flush on your cheeks and a heaviness in the pit of your stomach.

You don’t know where you’re going but anywhere is better than in there with the man that forces you to confront your feelings. Shaking your head, you figure you’ll explore the town a little. You could use the fresh air.

Jimin doesn’t know what else to do.

He’s willing to admit he fucked up with you at that party. He never should have come on that strong but you had looked so beautiful and, even though they were his friends, seeing you with Hobi and Jeongguk had ignited such a strong feeling of jealousy that he was helpless to do anything but whisk you away in his arms. He had spent that night tossing and turning in his bed. Now that he knew what you felt like in his arms, his mind refused to think of anything else.

But then you had run away and Jimin knew that he had crossed a line. He just wanted to tease you, maybe fluster you a bit, but never had he wanted to scare you off. You intrigued him. You were funny and sweet—to your friends at least—and it was quite fun to fluster you with his charms. He knew it was simply a physiological reaction, having nothing to do with any actual attraction to him as a person, but he was willing to take what he could get from you.

That, as it turns out, is absolutely nothing. He thought he was making progress with you. First and foremost, he realized at some point, he wants to be your friend. He enjoys your company and likes your attitude. It doesn’t hurt that he finds you absolutely stunning but he figures he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. Right now, his main focus is getting you to like him and every time he thinks he’s close, something happens and you’re back to despising him. One step forward, two steps back.

Speaking of you, it’s been a few hours since you’d stormed out of the room in a flustered mess. Jimin didn’t understand why sharing a room with him was such a big deal but he respects you enough to recognize that your feelings are your feelings and he should just accept them. He’s beginning to grow worried, though, as the sun has just set on the horizon. It’ll be dark soon and he doesn’t even want to think about what could happen to you, a beautiful young woman, alone on the streets of an unfamiliar town in the middle of the night.

He checks his phone and curses when he realizes that he still doesn’t have your phone number. It’s decided then; he has to go looking for you. Jimin leaps off the bed, grabbing his wallet from his bag and stuffing the room key inside, before practically sprinting out of the inn.

Jimin’s not sure how long he searches for you but the light has long-since faded from the sky and the street lights have come on. He’s pretty sure he’s stopped in every shop and establishment along the length of the main road but he has yet to see any sign of you. He wants to keep looking but his stomach gives a ravenous growl and he forces himself to stop and take a break. You’re out here somewhere; he can just stop quickly and then continue his search once he’s gotten something into his stomach.

Ducking into a random bar, Jimin runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s about to head to the bar at the back of the place when he spots you sitting on one of the stools, hunched over a drink. Jimin’s not religious but he thanks every god above that you’re alright. All thoughts of food vanish as relief floods his body, nearly knocking him over with the force of it.

“Hey, sweetheart, you nearly gave me a heart attack. You can’t just run off like that—”

“Jiminie~!” you cry with a dopey grin on your face as you swivel around to look at him. And, you’re drunk. Figures.

“Jiminie, I saw the cutest puppy when I was outside and I wanted to take a picture but my phone died and so I couldn’t and I was so sad—”

You start rambling about how much you love puppies and Jimin just rolls his eyes fondly as he pays the tab and decides to get you home, hunger long-forgotten. Eventually he gets you out of the bar and the both of you start walking back to the inn albeit a bit slowly.

You suddenly speak up out of nowhere. “You know, I don’t like you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Jimin can’t help the bitterness that creeps into his tone but he keeps his expression neutral.

“It’s because of your face.”

“What about my face?”

“It’s too pretty. Like what the fuck?? It’s not fair. You’re pretty and handsome and sexy as fuck and it’s just not fair.”

Jimin smiles to himself but tries to sound teasing. “You think I’m sexy?”

“Duh, I may hate you but I’m not blind.” A beat. “Okay maybe I don’t hate you. I hate that you make me feel things.”

“Things?”

“Yeah, things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Bad things. My heart hurts when you talk to me but also when you talk to other girls? But I can’t like you. You’re a flirt. And I don’t like flirts. But I like you.” You seem to realize what you just said because you gasp dramatically. “WAIT, NO I DON'T! Well… kinda. Woah, I’m dizzy.”

You stumble and Jimin catches you, amusement swimming in his eyes as he gazes fondly while you struggle to keep yourself upright. As the pair of you walk towards the inn, you catch sight of a fountain in the middle of the town square and bolt upright, running over to it.

It’s quite pretty, even Jimin will admit. It’s relatively small, carved out of a sand-colored stone in a pretty, almost chalice-like design. Water trickles from a spout on the top where it makes its way down to the pool. Spouts surrounding the round rim all spray a thin stream of water toward the center and little lights within the pool illuminate the coin-covered bottom.

“I’ve always wanted to jump into a fountain!” you say as you stop in front of the structure to admire it.

“Why?!”

“I don’t know, I saw it in a movie once and it looked fun!”

Jimin glances over to you nervously and tries to grab your arm surreptitiously. “Well, maybe we should do that another time. You know, when you’re not—”

SPLASH!

“—drunk,” he finishes with a sigh.

You giggle in delight as you splash around, fully clothed, in the shallow fountain and Jimin can’t help the swell of affection as he watches you smile brightly. He’s never seen you smile like that before and he wishes he could be the cause of it.

You catch sight of the coins resting on the bottom of the fountain and you gasp dramatically, begging Jimin for a franc to toss in. Jimin laughs but acquiesces, lending you a hand as you struggle to get out of the fountain, dripping water all over the pavement. He watches you fondly as you clutch the coin with both hands up to your face and whisper into it like a prayer, swaying slightly because you are still a little drunk after all, and all he can think is he could watch you forever.

You abruptly open your eyes and throw the coin in, smiling softly as you wave at your coin. God, you’re precious.

“So… What’d you wish for?”

You look scandalized. “I can’t tell you!”

“Why not?”

“Then it won’t come true,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and Jimin wonders if it’s possible to die of smiling too much.

“Ah, I see.”

You start shivering. “I’m cold.”

“That’s what happens when you jump into a fountain in the middle of the night, sweetheart” Jimin shrugs off his jacket and wraps you up in it. It’s not much but it’s better than nothing. You snuggle into the fabric, shivering again.

“I like when you call me that. My heart doesn’t hurt anymore when you say it.”

Something tightens in Jimin’s heart and he’s overwhelmed with it, petting your hair softly. “Then I’ll say it for the rest of your life, sweetheart.” He whispers the words like they’re something sacred. He thinks they are.

Going slack in his hold, you lean heavily against him and your eyelashes flutter prettily as you struggle to stay awake.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Jimin says and he can’t stop the tender way his voice caresses the nickname or the reverence in his touch as he slips an arm around your waist.

“Let’s go home.”

You’ve only been awake for a matter of seconds and you already want to die.

You have a splitting headache and your mouth feels like sandpaper. Well yeah that’s what happens when you drink too much, genius. You don’t even remember what happened after your visit to the bar but you figure it was nothing good.

You glance down at your clothes and find an unfamiliar t-shirt and a pair of shorts on your body. There’s clothes strewn across the room, on the bed, on the floor and your heart crawls into your throat. Now you’re concerned. What the hell happened?

Just then Jimin comes in with breakfast, some water, and, bless his soul, ibuprofen.

“Morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?” his voice sounds soft, softer than you’ve ever heard and you’re confused but also swooning? It’s a strange combination.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess I did. What happened last night?” You wince as you move to sit up. Damn, what did you do to make you so sore?

“Last night did quite a number on you, I’ll tell you that.” He laughs as he sets down the tray on the side table, perching himself on the edge of the bed as he looks at you. “How much did you have to drink exactly?”

“Uh, I kinda lost count after my fifth or sixth vodka soda.” You scratch your head in embarrassment.

“Jesus Christ, how are you alive?” Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. Leave it to you, he figures.

He hands you some water, which you chug gratefully, and take care to swallow the pills. He watches you, irises warm and pretty and you don’t like the way your heart flutters against your ribcage.

“You were incorrigible last night,” Jimin chuckles and you stiffen. What the fuck does that mean? “You kept pulling me in every direction, hanging off me at any given chance.” His voice is light and teasing and far too casual for what he’s suggesting.

Suddenly it clicks. The clothes strewn everywhere, the soreness, the strange tenderness in Jimin’s voice.

Holy shit. Holy fuck.

You slept with him.

You fucking slept with him.

Jimin is still talking but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.

“We slept together,” you whisper in disbelief and Jimin immediately stops rambling about whatever the fuck and you’re still reeling with the realization that you fucking slept with him.

“What?” He seems confused but you can’t think about his emotions when yours are swirling around violently in your head, increasing the pounding against your skull and making you want to throw up.

“You fucking slept with me while I was drunk? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jimin’s eyes widen so much that it would be almost comical if you weren’t absolutely devastated. “What? What the hell are you talking about?”

But you’re not listening anymore. You can’t, not with the way the blood is rushing too loudly in your ears, or the way your heart has crawled so far up your throat you think you could choke.

Logically, you know this is not the worst thing in the world, that it may be a bit of an overreaction, but you can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that permeates your body when you think about what a vulnerable position you were in last night. Stupid, you think. How could you be so stupid? A desperate sob meets your ears and you’re all too aware that the gasping breaths are coming from you.

You can hear Jimin trying to reason with you but your body reacts violently, slapping his hands away every time he tries to reach for you. You cry, arms wrapping around your body in an attempt to hold yourself together but you can’t stop the tremors wracking your frame.

“___! Sweetheart, please, will you just—!”

“No! Get away from me!”

You try to push him, shove him, hit him, but it’s futile and you only cry harder. Finally, Jimin decides enough is enough.

“Listen to me, ___. Listen to me.” Jimin’s hands come up to cradle your head, gentle but firm. His voice leaves no room for argument and you let out a pathetic whimper but look into his eyes nonetheless.

“I know what you think of me. I know you think I’m the scum of the earth, that I'm a flirt and a tease, and maybe I am those things but I am not a monster. Do you hear me? I may push boundaries and irritate you but I would never, ever dream of crossing that line without your explicit and enthusiastic consent.”

His eyes blaze into yours with a passion you’ve never seen before. He looks serious and stern, but most of all he looks hurt. You did that. Before you can go any further with your self-hatred, he continues. “You were drunk and wet and I needed to get you into a change of clothes. I am telling you the truth when I say nothing happened last night. Believe me, please?”

You stare into his eyes for an immeasurable amount of time, back and forth between his irises and you feel all the tension within you release, as if his touch is a balm you never knew you needed to an ache you never knew you had.

Another whimper escapes you and you throw yourself into Jimin’s arms then, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” over and over again and he just embraces you, shushing you as he strokes your hair oh so gently.

You stay like that for a long time, simply relishing in the warmth of his body, before you realize what you’re doing. Jimin seems to come back into himself as well because you both pull away from each other at the same time, albeit a bit bashfully.

“Um, so. Why don’t you go get dressed, hm? We’ve got a train to catch.” He starts to move off the bed but turns back to you with a glimmer in his eye. “I will be needing my shirt, though…” He goes to move closer to you as though he were going to take the shirt himself. You lean back instinctively but relax at his wide grin, soft giggle escaping his lips as he leaves you to it.

You gaze after him, a fond smile curving at your lips as you wipe at your tear-stained cheeks, and your heart is too light to worry about anything else.

Refreshed and ready to go, you pull up to the train station almost an hour before your scheduled train. It may be overkill but you are not missing another train, thank you very much.

While you wait, Jimin gets you both coffee, for which you are eternally grateful. You sit on one of the benches, swinging your legs happily as you sip your drink. Neither of you speak but it’s a comfortable silence. Who would have thought you would get to feel so comfortable around Jimin?

“Let’s play a game” Jimin pipes up out of nowhere. You laugh at his innocent suggestion and decide to humor him.

“Alright I’m down. Whatcha wanna play?”

“Twenty Questions!” He looks so excited you can’t help but tease.

“What are we, 14?”

“If you don’t wanna play, all you have to do is say so, you don’t have to be mean about it.” He pouts and you laugh if only to stifle the urge to coo at him and pinch his cheeks.

“Fine I’ll bite. You go first.”

“What’s your most embarrassing kink?”

You smack him upside the head and roll your eyes. “Next.”

The questions continue back and forth for a few minutes, some of them serious, most of them anything but. You laugh until your stomach hurts about the time he got into an argument with his best friend over a dumpling incident.

“Listen, it was a very serious argument—”

“Over dumplings.”

“Excuse you, dumplings are very important, I’ll have you know—”

You laugh as he puffs his cheeks out at you. He even looks like a dumpling and you tell him as much, earning another pout from the man. Eventually the topic shifts to more personal things.

“Okay, okay, serious one now,” Jimin says and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

The question is unexpected and you have to think for a moment. Have you ever been in love? You’re not really sure.

“Dunno,” you shrug.

“You don’t know? How could you not know?”

“I’m just not sure if what I felt was love or…something else.”

“Valid, I guess.” He falls silent for a moment before speaking. “I know for a fact I never have.”

This surprises you. “What? A guy like you? Surely, you’ve been in love before.”

“A guy like me?” Jimin smirks as he side-eyes you.

“Y-Yeah you know flirts with anything with a pulse.”

“Okay, rude.” You both laugh but sober up pretty quickly. “But yeah no. I’ve had a few flings or whatever but never anything I could call love, you know? Just…never really met the right person.”

“What kind of person are you looking for?”

“Well…” He sits up a little straighter in his seat. “I don’t have, like, an ideal type or anything but…all I know is, that when I see them—the person I’m meant to be with—all my heart’s desires and dreams will come true. And maybe that makes me naive or whatever but I feel like I’ll know when I see them. Maybe not immediately, it might take some time, but I believe my soul will recognize its other half.”

You sit there, shocked and dazed. You hadn’t expected such a serious answer from him. “I— That’s…that’s beautiful.”

“You should hear Jeongguk talk about it.” He laughs softly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Says he’ll hear bells or something. He’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah he is…” You’re still a little dazed hearing him speak so passionately about love. It makes you feel painfully inadequate.

“What about you? What kind of person could sweep the ever-elusive ___ off her feet?”

You pause, unsure how to answer. “Oh, uh… I’ve never actually thought about it? I don’t know, I’ve always felt like, if I think about it too much, I’ll get too excited. I’ve always been the overexcited type.” Jimin chuckles, remembering the other night. He knows that all too well.

“But, uh, yeah. If I think about it, I’ll anticipate it, I’ll wait for it, and if it doesn’t come well… that’ll make the disappointment that much more upsetting.”

Jimin frowns. “Why wouldn’t it come?”

“I-I don’t know.” You fidget with your fingers, insecure. “What if… What if I never meet someone? What if I do and my heart—my soul—never recognizes its other half?” You look into Jimin’s eyes. “What if I’m just alone?”

His gaze holds yours for an immeasurable amount of time.

“I think,” he says slowly, and you find yourself hanging off of every word, “that you’re overcomplicating it. Sure, life has its disappointments but it comes with the territory. Having things to look forward to makes life worth living, even if it’s something as simple as waking up the next morning.”

Jimin inches his hand slowly over to where yours rests on the grainy wood of the bench. He nudges your pinky with his own, wrapping your digit with his. It’s a small gesture but it fills you with an inexplicable warmth.

“All I’m saying is, it’s okay to want.” He says it with such conviction that you desperately want to believe him. “And it’s okay to feel disappointed if you don’t get what you want. But don’t let that stop you from doing it.”

You’re silent again but you can’t look away. The words come rushing out before you can stop them. “And what if I already do? Want, I mean.”

His eyes flick between both of yours and you fight a shiver. “Then it’s your job to do something about it.”

The sound of the train’s whistle breaks the moment and you find yourself taking in a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You glance at the approaching train before looking shyly at Jimin.

“The train is coming. Wouldn’t wanna miss it again.” You try to joke but you can’t seem to shake the residual tension from before.

“And yet,” Jimin hums, barely above a whisper, “I find that I want to miss the train again and again.”

The trip wraps up almost too quickly for your liking.

When the two of you reunite with your friends in Zürich, it’s as if something has changed. You find yourself glancing at Jimin more often than not, and he’s almost always staring right back at you. It should unnerve you, you think, but you feel…calm, almost peaceful knowing his eyes are on you. Powerful. You also find yourself thinking about him a lot, often at night once the lights are cut and all your friends are asleep. You can’t shake his words.

It’s okay to want.

It seems obvious; of course it’s okay for you to want things. But when he said it, it was as if he had opened up a whole new world to you. Had you been unintentionally stifling your own desires? What did you want? You can feel something niggling at the edge of your consciousness but it disappears when you try to pinpoint the feeling, like stars when you look too hard at them. It frustrates you and you want to talk to him but where you actively had to avoid him before your little detour, you can’t seem to find him alone for longer than a cursory greeting. An ache has settled low in your stomach and the feeling of something missing pervades you for days after. You don’t sleep well until the end of the tour.

You’re sadder than you thought you’d be to leave this trip but you chalk it up to how much fun you’ve had over the last two weeks. Definitely does not have anything to do with a certain pink-haired man. Absolutely not.

“Be sure to keep in touch, yeah?” Hobi smiles his beautiful sunshiny smile and you can do nothing but return it, pulling him into a warm hug.

“Of course! We’ll have to hit up a karaoke bar together. You know, one that you haven’t been kicked out of.” You elbow him in the ribs playfully.

“That was one time and I told you that to bond! You can’t make fun of me!” But his smile is just as bright if not brighter and you’re really going to miss him.

You turn to Jeongguk and pull him into a hug as well. “It was so great getting to meet you. Now I know who to call when I need to liven up a party.”

Flashing you his signature toothy grin, he practically bounces in place. “Anytime, ___. We should definitely hang soon!” After nodding your assent, you wave a final time as he joins Hobi and leaves the platform.

Your friends hug you and tell you they’ll see you later. With a wave, you send them off until you’re left with only one other person. Bracing yourself, you turn around and face Jimin with a shy smile. Your heart gives a dull throb but you ignore it.

“So,” you both begin before collapsing into nervous giggles. God, were you always so awkward? “You first,” he smiles.

“This is it, huh,” you marvel, reminiscing over the last few days. You can’t believe just two weeks ago you two were strangers, enemies even, and now you’re… Well, you’re not sure what you are but it’s definitely an improvement from your first encounter. “Can’t believe two weeks went by so quickly…”

“I know. Seems like just yesterday I was pulling your late ass onto the train,” Jimin smirks at you and you shove his shoulder.

“Yeah and making inappropriate comments about my underwear.” You glare at him playfully but it dissolves into a smile when you see his sheepish grin.

“I never did properly apologize for that, did I?” He scratches the back of his head and you melt at the familiar gesture.

“Hey, no worries. We’re cool.” Silence befalls the two of you. It seems to happen a lot recently, but it’s not a bad silence, just a thoughtful one. “Thank you. For everything.”

“It was no problem, sweetheart.” There’s something lurking in the depths of his eyes but you don’t dwell on it.

“Friends?” You stick out your hand between you. You can’t discern why Jimin’s face looks so drawn but the expression disappears just as quickly as you notice it, replaced by a beautiful smile.

“Friends,” he repeats, soft as he grasps your hand almost reverently.

You look into his eyes and you once again find yourself trapped. The seconds tick on and you can’t bring yourself to remove your hand from his. His grip feels warm and comforting. Right. You don’t know if you want to think about what that might mean.

Inhaling deeply, you finally muster up the will to let go of his hand, albeit a bit begrudgingly. Jimin looks just as reluctant but plasters a smile. You return it, confused as to why there seems to be so much tension but you figure it’s the sadness of parting. Sending a last lingering wave, you go to turn when you feel a hand grip your wrist. You turn in surprise, a question in your eyes.

“I just… I have something for you.” Jimin lets you go for a moment to pull out a small box. He hands it to you, bashful. You accept it gently and slide the lid open. Inside, is the bracelet from that souvenir shop. The black pearls gleam back at you in the fluorescent light of the station and you have the strangest urge to cry. You look up at him, touched beyond belief.

“You—”

“May I?” He gestures to the bracelet and it takes a second for you to understand what he’s asking, too caught up in his thoughtfulness, but you nod silently when you do. You’re not sure you trust your voice right now.

Jimin beams, delicately taking the bracelet out of the box and wrapping the thin gold chain around your wrist. He clasps it securely so that the pink flower just brushes the inside of your wrist. Your skin tingles where he grazes you and the warmth spreads throughout your body until you’re filled with it. You look up at Jimin, eyes shining a little and you do your best to blink them back.

“I saw you looking at it back at the shop. Figured you’d like it.”

“I love it,” you whisper and you feel like it means so much more.

“Well…” Jimin clears his throat and steps away to a more appropriate distance. You hadn’t even realized you were practically on top of him. “I guess I should get going.”

“Yeah, you— I-I should head out, too.” You don’t want him to go, you realize, but you have nothing to convince him to stay. So you let him go.

“Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Jimin.”

You both back away slowly from each other, as if to extend the moment just a bit longer. He doesn’t look away from you and so you don’t either. Eventually, you have to turn around to actually watch where you’re going. When you look back, he’s gone.

There’s a lingering emptiness in your chest as you walk home, not even bothering with a taxi this time. The feeling of something missing has only worsened, and now it’s at its peak. You’re worried that you’ve missed your chance to find it and the knowledge that it might be too late lingers like an intrusive thought.

You deflate, shoulders hunching protectively as you make your way through the city. From what you’re protecting yourself from, you’re not sure. The bracelet on your wrist feels heavy, like a shackle, and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at it without feeling the ghost of his touch on your skin.

Just under two weeks have passed since the Eurail tour and you haven’t felt the same since.

You expected it somewhat. That’s what traveling does to you. It makes you appreciate the beauty of the world, shows you a new way of life, and changes your perspective and you never leave a new place the same as when you enter it. But the reason for this change has nothing to do with the wonders of a new country.

No, it centers on one person. Park Jimin.

It doesn’t take you long to realize what the emptiness means, to recognize the shape of the hole that has permanently taken up residence in your heart. You find yourself plagued by it at night, tossing and turning until you eventually fall into a fitful and restless sleep.

He starts to permeate every facet of your life. It first begins with the dreams, your memories teasing you with glimpses of his round face and delicate cheeks, of warm brown eyes that seem to look right through you to your core, smoldering. Then it escalates quickly to lingering touches on the back of your hand when you know you’re alone or the bracelet on your wrist will suddenly feel too hot, like a brand, and it’s like he’s surrounding you—his arms around your waist, his scent filling your lungs, his breath cooling your feverish skin. You feel suffocated but the illusions leave you more empty each time.

Finally it gets worse; you start to see him everywhere. On your way to work, to the grocery store, to the bank—it doesn’t matter but your mind always tricks you into thinking you’ve caught sight of the familiar shock of pink hair or his signature leather jacket. Each time sends you reeling and you reach out briefly only for the haze to clear and you remember how very much alone you are. You even start to hallucinate his voice, the way sweetheart would flow so easily from his lips, a balm to your searing heart, and you think you might need to start seeing someone about this. It can’t be healthy.

Still, life goes on and so do you—for the most part anyway. You still work at the little convenience store around the corner from your apartment just to fill the time since there are no classes for you to take. You’re still waiting to hear back from schools about graduate programs but you don’t worry about it too much. You’re confident in your grades and your abilities to know you’ll be okay, it’s just a matter of time.

Your shift passes relatively quickly, time seeming even more meaningless since returning from your trip. You fiddle with your phone, shooting a quick text to Sheena confirming that you’ll see her tomorrow for dinner. You’re not really up for it but you haven’t seen much of anyone in the last two weeks and you miss her so you decide to go.

Which reminds you, Hobi had managed to get your number and text you, asking if you wanted to go out next weekend with him and Jeongguk. You want to go but you’re not sure if you can get through an evening of them without thinking of a certain pink-haired man. Sighing, you glance at the time and note that it’s time to shut down the registers and begin closing.

Just as you turn around the grab the money bag from underneath the counter, you hear the bell of the door tinkle open.

“Sorry,” you call, straightening as you reach for the register keys, “we’re actually clos—” Your breath catches in your throat. “Oh, god, I’m actually going insane,” is what makes it out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Before you stands the object of your hallucinations in all his pink-haired glory. You blink several times, hoping the image will disappear quickly. When it doesn’t, your jaw goes slack.

Jimin looks just as shocked as you do but recovers faster. Of course he does.

“___?”

You inhale sharply, trying to focus but it’s hard when he’s right in front of you and god, you’re not prepared for this—

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, are you alright?” The nickname rolls off his tongue so easily, like a gentle caress, and a strange feeling of relief fills you. Jimin approaches the register carefully, as if worried he’d scare you away if he moved too quickly. Maybe he’s right.

Your eyes drink him in greedily despite everything. He looks…good. An orange short-sleeved shirt with white and navy blue accents is tucked stylishly into a pair of black jeans that hug his legs nicely. You feel very insecure all of a sudden in your work uniform and you duck your head shyly. Finally, you find your voice as you clear your throat and tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“H-How are you?” You wince at how small your voice sounds. Your heart flutters so fast in your chest you struggle to catch your breath but at the same time…it’s the first time you’ve been able to truly breathe.

Jimin’s eyes soften and he smiles that smile that makes your knees weak. “I’m good. Very good. I— Are you closing up now?”

“Yeah, I’m, yeah. If you give me, like, 20 minutes, we can head out, together?” It comes out like a question but Jimin is nodding before you can even second-guess yourself and you’re running around like a madwoman trying to clear the register and finish restocking the last box from storage. After a final cursory glance and a mental run-down of your closing checklist, you deem yourself ready to leave. You spare Jimin a quick smile, motioning him to follow you out and you close up shop.

“My, um,” you begin, unsure if it’s too forward for you to say this but you’re tired of constantly running around in circles to avoid your emotions. It’s time to face them head-on, dammit! “My apartment is just a few blocks over if you…if you wanted to stop over for some tea?”

You hold your breath for some reason as you wait for his response. His answering smile is dazzling. “Tea sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”

You don’t remember the walk to your apartment, which is literally around the corner, ever feeling so long. You’re all too aware of his proximity, can feel the faint warmth he emanates from his body, and you find yourself too preoccupied with the way his arm brushes yours as you walk side-by-side. Neither of you speak but it’s comfortable, just like it was when you parted. Though you are anxious to see him, a sense of calm pervades deep within you and you welcome instead of ignore the feeling.

As you step into your apartment, you panic slightly as you struggle to remember if you’ve cleaned up enough while toeing off your shoes. You send a surreptitious glance around, satisfied that nothing looks too out of place as you lead Jimin into your small kitchen.

“Black or green?” you ask him, gazing up at him only to find him staring unabashedly at you. He startles, seemingly embarrassed to have been caught but does not look away.

“Black would be great.” You smile, nodding before setting up a kettle to boil on the stove before turning to him. You’re not sure where to begin but it seems you don’t have to.

“I missed you.”

Those few simple words send a pang through your heart and any resolve you had bleeds through you as you try not to melt into the floor.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper back, scared to speak too loudly and break the beautiful tension that’s building around you.

Jimin looks down at the floor, as if the knowledge that you missed him too was too much for him. “I-I thought about you. All the time.”

You soften, shuffling closer to him where he is braced against the fridge. His eyes are swimming with that familiar tenderness and you can actually recognize it. He looked at you the same way on that morning in the inn.

“I thought about you, too.” You feel more confident now. Something about knowing that he’s just as shy and uncertain makes you relax significantly. “God, I saw you everywhere. I thought I was going crazy.”

“I dreamt about you.” He says this in a rush, as if he thinks he needs to get to words out in case you stop him. With the way you’re hanging off every word, you think it’s safe to say you’re just as eager to listen as he is to speak. “About you, about us. I— I kept replaying the moment at the train station, thinking how stupid I was for letting you go—”

“Hey, hey, shh.” You close the distance between you, placing a gentle hand on his chest. “I let you go, too. We’re both a little stupid.”

Jimin breathes a laugh, tense shoulders relaxing as he fixates on your hand on his chest. “You’re still wearing it,” he breathes in wonder, bringing his own hand up to clasp yours as he inspects the bracelet still on your wrist.

“Yeah, I— It’s my favorite thing I own.” Jimin’s eyes practically melt into yours, the warm chestnut irises looking down at you with such fondness you can’t stop the swell of affection from rising within you. You think you’re going to burst from the amount of adoration and feelings swirling around inside you but it’s pleasant. You’re buzzing with excitement, no longer heavy with what ifs.

Jimin seems to realize how close you two actually are at the same time you do because his bright smile gradually fades as his gaze flickers down to your lips. The air stills around you and your breath hitches. Anticipation swirls in the pit of your stomach, cloying and intoxicating.

“___,” he calls and you shiver a little at the sound of your name dripping from his lips like honey. “Sweetheart, may I kiss you?”

You nod, inhaling deeply. “Yes, please.”

Beaming, Jimin grasps the hand on his chest firmer and moves his other hand to cradle your cheek tenderly. He bends his head down, brushing your noses together sweetly. Your eyes slip closed of their own accord and you wait, lips parted as you feel his breath wash over you. A beat passes and suddenly you’re kissing, those plump lips that you’ve been dreaming about for days finally on yours. A tingle passes between your lips and you gasp, mouth parting more under the soft pressure of Jimin’s. He kisses you sweet and slow, as if savoring the taste of you. You feel his fingers thread their way into your hair to hold you in place more securely and you hum in satisfaction. Your other hand is gripping the material of his shirt at his waist and you shuffle a little closer, all too eager to feel his body against yours.

You melt into each other as you kiss, hardly breaking apart for air as you suck in greedy, rushed breaths from your nose. You’re content to just stay here forever but the loud screech of the kettle startles you into breaking the kiss. You both chuckle, exchanging a quick peck before you pull away gently to turn off the stove.

Jimin is not far behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your middle once the stove is off and you’re sure you won’t burn down your apartment. You smile to yourself before turning in his arms and wrapping your own around his neck, reaching up to nose along his jaw.

“Now where were we?” You smirk lightly against his skin when you feel him shiver beneath your hands. A rush of heat flashes through you as you think of all the ways you could have him now that he’s here, finally.

Jimin seems to be thinking the same because the hands on your waist tighten and you hiss in pleasure. “I believe I was kissing you breathless.” It’s his turn to tease this time as he grazes down the length of your neck and you bite back a moan at the soft, almost ticklish feeling of his lips against your throat.

“Hmm, I might need you to show me again. I don’t think I was breathless enough.” The words are false of course, compounded by the fact that you are currently struggling to get enough air.

“As you wish, sweetheart.” And with that, Jimin is on you again. You sigh into his mouth, reveling in the plush feel of his lips. He swallows the sound, pressing you further against him and you practically turn to jelly in his arms. He kisses you with a passion you had only just begun to feel before you were briefly interrupted and you can feel yourself getting swept up in it. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jimin swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips in a silent question and you swear your knees buckle from underneath you. You can’t stop the moan that escapes, humming into his mouth as you open up for him. Things turn hot and heavy very quickly and you find yourself backed into your kitchen counter as Jimin positively ravages you.

You pull back for a moment, panting and your stomach tightens as you catch a glimpse of him. Jimin looks just as wrecked as you feel, pupils blown wide in desire and chest heaving with the effort to breathe. His lips are a swollen, pretty pink mess and a desperate whine tears itself from your throat when you notice.

Leaning his forehead against yours, Jimin closes his eyes and catches his breath. “Do you want this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can slow down. I won’t be upset.”

“It certainly doesn’t feel like you want to slow down,” you tease, rolling your hips into his where you can feel the evidence of his desire against your stomach. His answering groan has you grinning wickedly.

“Sweetheart,” he moans, panting into the skin of your shoulder as you build up a steady rhythm and you can feel him stiffen further at the stimulation. “Please, answer me.”

“Yes, Jimin, please.” You punctuate the request with a final roll of your hips, pulling his head away from your shoulder so you can look him in the eyes. “Make me yours.”

A beat. Then, Jimin lets out the most animalistic growl you’ve ever heard and your thighs clench pathetically as you feel your wetness dampen your underwear further.

“You are going to be the death of me.” Pulling you to him, he crouches slightly until his fingers are brushing the backs of your thighs. “Jump,” he grunts.

You’re hesitant but you do so anyway and he catches you, taking a moment to steady you both before busying himself with placing kisses along your jaw.

“Where are we doing this, sweetheart?” Jimin murmurs against your skin and you have to take a second to focus yourself, a haze beginning to cloud your mind.

“Second door on the left,” you manage to choke out, whining as you feel his tongue leave a wet trail along your collarbone. You hardly remember the walk to your room but you certainly feel when Jimin deposits you gently on the bed. Backing up toward the headboard, you eye him greedily as he tucks his shirt to raise it over his head. You feel your mouth run dry and you lick your lips in anticipation.

“Something the matter, sweetheart?” He’s teasing you as he crawls on the bed, stalking.

“Not at all,” you return breezily. “Just wondering when you were gonna come over here and make me forget my name.”

“Oh, not to worry. You won’t be able to think of anything else but me.”

Lunging at you, Jimin connects your lips together once again and your hands wander over the exposed skin. You marvel at the toned muscles of his stomach, humming and running your nails lightly over them. He shudders over you, breaking the kiss to pant in your ear. You use his momentary distraction to flip you both over so you’re on top.

“My turn,” you whisper. In a surge of confidence, you grasp the ends of your shirt and practically rip it off you. Jimin stares, mouth agape, at the newly exposed skin. He seems to snap himself out of his trance because he dives in immediately, littering your chest with kisses and nips. Your hips buck against his as he moves to unclasp your bra, cupping the flesh once he’s removed the offending garment.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, awed. “I could look at you forever.”

Your ears burn hotly but you try to hide your embarrassment. “You just gonna look?”

Jimin fixes you with a look. “I plan to do a lot more than just look, sweetheart. But I am patient. Something you should learn.”

“I’ve missed you for weeks now,” you gasp as he pinches one stiff peak as punishment for your mouthing off. “So forgive me if I seem a little eager to get to it.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.” He presses a kiss over your heart and if you weren’t already a puddle on the floor you would’ve melted. Somehow the words seem to refer to more than just your impatience.

You choke on a moan when Jimin pulls a nipple into his mouth, fingers tweaking the neglected one. The stimulation has you arching into his mouth and you grind down onto his lap, reveling in the feel of him, hard and thick, under you. You shiver at the thought of him inside you.

Jimin switches then, his other hand sliding down your back to aid your hips in their movement against his. You’re sure you’ve soaked through your underwear at this point, fabric slippery as you move. Finally satisfied, Jimin pulls back, admiring the wet, flushed mess he’s made of your chest, and ventures lower. Kissing down your sternum, he gently guides you down onto your pillows. You don’t even fight him, too excited to slow him down for even a second.

“Won’t be needing these, now will you?” He tugs at the waistband of your jeans and you scramble to undo them, lifting your hips as you help Jimin tug them down and off your legs. You’re left in your underwear as your only defense against his gaze and you shyly close your legs. Jimin clicks his tongue in disapproval and places a hand on both knees. “No hiding, sweetheart.”

He makes quick work of your underwear until he’s staring at your glistening folds with reverence. You mewl as he swipes a finger down your slit, collecting the growing wetness. Jimin circles your clit and you groan, back arching off the bed as you seek more friction.

“Jimin, please,” you gasp. “Want your fingers.”

“Oh, sweetheart. Since you asked so nicely…” Jimin grins deviously before slipping his fingers down to your fluttering hole. Sinking one finger in, he allows you to adjust before thrusting shallowly. He adds another finger after a minute and curls them upward, massaging the soft spot with purpose.

“Jimin, ah, please!”

“Patience, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ll give you what you want soon.”

You want to yell at him to get on with it but then he sinks a third finger in and the stretch burns so deliciously that you’re rendered speechless. The sound that reverberates around the room is obscene, filthy, but you can’t feel embarrassed as the fire in your stomach burns bright with each curl of Jimin’s fingers. He dips down to swallow your whines and cries in a searing kiss and you wrap your arms around him to crush him to you, eager to feel him.

“Now, Jimin, now. I’m ready.”

“Okay, sweetheart.” Kissing your forehead, he pulls his fingers out of you gingerly before moving to remove his own pants and underwear. You watch as he revels each inch of perfect skin, mouth practically salivating as he removes the final layer and bares himself to you. He’s not ridiculously long but he’s thick and you can’t wait to feel him inside you.

You spread your legs in an open invitation but Jimin shakes his head with a smile before settling on the bed next to you. You’re confused until he pats his lap, beckoning you over. You move quicker than you ever thought you could and straddle him.

“Want to watch you. Use me as you need to. I’m yours.” He looks deeply into your eyes when he says this and you shiver at the conviction in his voice. You grab him by the base, making him hiss, and line him up with your entrance.

“And I’m yours,” you sigh, sinking down fully onto his swollen length. The stretch burns wonderfully and you can’t help the drawn-out whine that rips itself from your throat. Jimin doesn’t seem to be faring much better.

“Oh, sweetheart. You feel so good.” He tips his head back, eyes glazed and unfocused. You’re not faring much better but you’re determined to give him the ride of his life.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you push yourself up and you can’t stop the cheshire grin from curving your lips when he moans softly. His hands grip your waist tightly as you begin to build up a rhythm, guiding your hips as best he can.

“S-So good, Jimin. So big.” And you’re not just stroking his ego. The stretch has you groaning into his neck as you swivel your hips in a torturing motion. The hand on your hip tightens and keeps you moving steadily, no matter how much you wanna speed up.

“What did I say about patience, baby?” He clicks his tongue playfully and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Purposefully, you slow down your hips even more and clench tightly, dragging yourself up and down. Jimin chokes on air as you do so.

“What was that?” You flutter your eyelashes prettily at him and he growls.

“Don’t test me, sweetheart.”

A twinge of arousal flashes through you at the thinly veiled threat and you wonder just how dangerous Jimin can get. But, you suppose, you can save that for another time. Sufficiently placated, you resume your pace, taking care to kiss and bite at his neck, his jaw—whatever you can reach. His breath stutters as you continue your ministrations and you take pride in yourself for making him react so strongly.

Eventually your thighs start to feel tired and the fire in your core, while burning pleasantly, has dulled to a frustratingly low simmer. You whine into Jimin’s neck, begging him to let you go faster.

“Please, Jimin. I wanna cum.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he acquiesces. “I wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

His words spur you on and you begin a desperate pace, soreness long forgotten. The blunt tip of his dick nudges against the deepest part of you and you gasp as if you’ve been shocked. The pleasure begins mounting and your hips piston faster of their own accord. You feel his pelvis bump against your bundle of nerves with each drag of your hips, sending ripples of liquid heat traveling through your body.

You lean down to kiss Jimin but you can do little more than pant into his mouth, especially as he begins to buck up into you and meet your hips with every downward stroke. “H-ah, Jimin, close.”

“Atta girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful.” The way he whispers into your hair, as if you’re something precious, something to be treasured, sends you into another frenzy and you let out an answering cry. “Come on, cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours.”

That in combination with a punctuated thrust has you hurtling so fast into your orgasm that you’re blindsided, mouth opening in a silent scream as the pleasure overtakes you. You hear Jimin grunt as your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth and you’re suddenly desperate to make him feel just as good.

“Y-You too, baby,” you manage to choke out. “Wanna feel you.”

Jimin groans, clutching you tighter to him. “Yeah? Sweetheart wants my cum?” You nod and that’s all he needs to buck up into you mercilessly. He lasts one stroke, then two, before he’s moaning out loud, pulling you in for a desperate kiss as he releases inside you. You swivel your hips for as long as you can stand it until the oversensitivity becomes too much and you have to stop.

You both stay there for a moment, breathing in each other as you come down from your highs. Looking shyly into his eyes, you find him looking at you with that same adoring stare and your heart throbs in response. You’re sure you look just as smitten.

“Hi,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles and you swear you’ve never seen anything more beautiful. “Hi.”

“We’re a little sticky.” You grimace as you shift slightly, feeling the combination of your fluids leaking from inside you and onto his skin. Not to mention the thin layer of sweat that’s left on your skin.

“That we are.” He laughs goodnaturedly, fingers trailing a soothing path down the length of your back and sending pleasant tingles down your spine. “Shall we clean up?”

“Yes, please.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he laughs, kissing it lightly as he shifts. Jimin removes you from his lap so tenderly you blush under the attention despite your previous activities.

Cleaning up turns into a full-blown shower, the two of you crammed into your small tub and taking turns under the spray as you lather each other’s bodies with soap. It’s comfortable, you realize—almost too comfortable—but you let yourself enjoy it, relishing in the feeling of wanting and being wanted in return.

Once you are clean and dressed in a thin nightgown and some sweats that you managed to find for Jimin, the two of you make quick work of changing the sheets and soon find yourself curled up around each other in a comfortable silence. You’re lying across his chest, hand clutched in his while his other arm is wrapped securely around your shoulders, holding you to him. Your thoughts wander to the Eurail trip—the trip that changed everything. You think about what would have happened if you hadn’t hadn’t been late and reached out for his hand that first day, if you hadn’t missed the train in that small-town station. You remember what Jimin had said about wanting, about finding his soul. Everything rushes back to you all at once and you can’t help the swell of emotion that rises within you.

“Jimin, I…” you begin, but you have no idea where to start. Everything feels so intense right now, so overwhelming, but Jimin seems to know exactly what you’re trying to say.

“I know.” He says it so calmly, like he’s had time to think about this, about you, and you realize he probably has. Just as you did. You smile softly, looking deeply into his eyes as you move to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry it took so long for my soul to recognize yours.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Jimin cradles your face, gazing at you fondly and you have trouble remembering how to breathe. “I found you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

#bts #jimin #bts jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #bts jimin x reader #jimin x reader imagines #bts jimin x reader imagines #pjm #pjm fic #jimin fic #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #bts smut

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angelteyam · 5 years ago

Text

Rewrite the Stars, Part 2 (p.p.)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Super!OC

Summary: Charlie starts to get the butterflies for a certain teenage spider-boy, but when a series of events rocks her world, Peter has to do everything he can to try and save her.

Word Count: 3,050

Warnings: Major character death, mentions of human remains, Endgame spoilers (derp), panic attacks/anxiety, mentions of depression, nightmares, blood/cuts, bruising, vomit, and just a whole lot of angst

A/N: Wheeeeee behold the beginnings of a budding romance mixed with a whole gosh darn pile of angst courtesy of me!! Thank you again a bajillion times to @parrkerspeters for helping me with this story - you’ve made it a thousand billion times better already (and thank you for helping me out with a certain scene hehe). I love you all, and I hope you are starting to enjoy Charlie as much as I am!!

Peter never stopped getting on Charlie’s every last nerve.

He was constantly crashing into things wherever he went, leaving what looked like a tornado behind. Pepper stopped decorating the compound with her beloved house plants, because she would always find them in a broken mess on the floor, Peter stumbling an apology above them. When Charlie tried to go up to the roof and read in peace, she would sigh as she heard the tell-tale shwip of Peter’s web shooters. Wherever she went, it wasn’t long before she heard Peter chattering away in her ear.

But anything was better than being alone.

Most of the time, Charlie didn’t even know what the hell he was talking about. And he had awful timing. Eventually, she would pause whenever she got to the good part in one of her books. Like clockwork, Peter would appear beside her, muttering on about something she didn’t understand, and ruining the best part of the story.

But every time, he’d stop for just a moment and peek his head over, his eyes squinting at the words on the pages in Charlie’s lap. And every time, the same phrase would leave his lips.

“What are you reading?”

Charlie would pause, looking up into his eyes, scanning them to see if he actually wanted to know. And every time her bright blue eyes met with his, the answer was always the same.

Tell me.

Somehow, and despite her initial resistance, Charlie and Peter became attached at the hip.

It was nice to have someone the exact same age to wander around the compound with, someone who understood what it was like to be a young human with superpowers and not much family around to help them comprehend what was going on. Wherever one of them went, the other wasn’t far behind. Charlie could say what she wanted about how annoying he was, but she never stopped admiring how Peter was always up for an adventure.

They even discovered they shared the same taste in movies. Especially Star Wars. Peter could jabber on for hours about how it was total bullshit that Han Solo died at the hands of his only son, and that it didn’t make sense that no one knew who the hell Rey’s parents were. Though Peter definitely had his theories.

He was perpetually frustrating. Whenever they had a “nerd movie night” (as Peter had so rightly dubbed it), he would always wolf down and finish the entire bowl of popcorn before they were even 15 minutes into the movie. Charlie had to start making a bowl just for herself. On one particular evening, Peter tried to reach his hand in and steal some of the kernels from her bowl. Small sparks flew from Charlie’s fingers, shocking him in the offending hand.

“OW – Hey!” Peter practically squealed, clutching his hand to his chest. “What was that for?”

Charlie scowled, pointing at the bowl perched in her lap. “Mine.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his lips twitching as if he was trying not to smile.

“Alright fine, jeez.”

But despite his constant yammering on about who-knows-what, Charlie found him unbearably endearing. He asked very little questions, and had not once asked about why she lived with Tony and Pepper instead of with her family. He was perfectly content to just be with her, off on their next adventure. And whenever they broke something (which was a lot), even if Charlie had done it, Peter was always the one to take the blame.

Even Pepper and Tony had started to notice – it was impossible not to. Charlie and Peter were damn near always together, him watching her read, or laying on the grass to stare up at the clouds and pick out the shapes. Most of the time, they’d be sharing Charlie’s headphones, her phone tucked away in her pocket with her favorite playlist going softly in the background. Softly enough, of course, where she could still hear Peter’s voice over her music.

For Charlie, it was nice to have someone who was willing to do all the talking.

Things suddenly shifted one night, when Charlie had her worst nightmare yet.

Peter was jolted out of his deep sleep to the sound of sharp wailing coming from somewhere, or something. He bolted out of bed towards the sound, only to realize it was coming from down the hall, from Charlie’s room.

“Charlie,” he gasped, hurtling down the hallway towards her room. He busted through the door, breathing heavily, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

Charlie was thrashing wildly, her sheets tangled in a disheveled mess around her legs. Her hair was soaked, and her skin glistened with sweat. Her hands were clenched tightly into fists, her knuckles turning white. Her face was masked with pain, and the shrill scream tearing from her throat was enough to break Peter’s heart in two.

“Charlie,” he tried softly, “Charlie, wake up.”

He tried again, and again, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Finally, Peter clambered over her, sitting onto her hips and pinning her down to the bed. He placed his hands on her shoulders and began to gently shake her, trying to rouse her from her nightmare.

“Charlie,” He cried, louder this time. “Charlie, please wake up!”

Charlie’s eyes flew open, wide and frozen with terror. She put her hands in front of her face, still in the midst of her dream, and sparks began to fly from her fingers.

But Peter remained steady. “Charlie, it’s okay. It’s me, it’s Peter.”

The sparks ebbed, and Charlie’s hands came away from her face, which was now streaked with tears.

“Peter?” she croaked, and Peter felt his throat clench and his stomach turn into knots.

Before Charlie knew it, Peter pulled her up and pressed her to his chest. He wound his arms around her, pulling her impossibly close. He began to gently stroke her hair, pressing his cheek to the top of her head.

“It’s alright. It’s alright – it was just a dream.” He whispered. “I’m here.”

Charlie hadn’t even realized she was crying until he said something. But then Charlie began to shake with tears, harsh sobs ripping through her as she gave way into Peter’s shirt. Her hands clenched the fabric into her fists, holding him tightly to her and keeping him there.

Not that Peter had any intention of letting go.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m so, so sorry. I make a mess of everything.”

Peter hardened. “Look at me.”

When Charlie refused, he wrapped his palm gently under her chin and pulled her face to his.

“Look at me. Don’t you ever – ever – apologize for something that isn’t even close to your fault. Understand? You are my friend, and I will always be here no matter what, do you hear me?”

Charlie felt dry as a bone, like she shouldn’t be able to cry anymore, but more tears found their way down her cheeks. She nodded, crumbling back into him like a pile of bricks. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her and willing the crumbling pieces to come back together.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Always,” Peter replied.

To be honest, he didn’t even know what was going on.

Tony hadn’t told him much about Charlie, he always said it wasn’t his story to tell. But what he had said was that Charlie’s story wasn’t that far off from Peter’s. Peter had his fair share of nightmares, and he too felt the crushing weight of blaming himself for not doing enough, for feeling like he caused everything. And it broke him to see another person feel that way. Every fiber in his body was screaming at him to make sure that Charlie would never have to feel that way again, like she wasn’t enough, when he was positive she was the glue holding what was left of the Avengers together. Hell, sometimes it felt like she was holding Peter together, too. If no one else was there for her to pick her up when she was falling, then Peter would be there to catch her.

Peter stayed with her that night. He had no intentions of going anywhere after what he’d witnessed. When Tony and Pepper came rushing down after FRIDAY’s alert that something was wrong, they pushed the door open slightly to find Peter cradling Charlie in his arms, rocking her back and forth gently. He was talking softly, as if he’d ever stop, about the time that he and May had gone to Coney Island on the Fourth of July to watch the fireworks. He’d gotten mustard all over his shirt from his hotdog, and Charlie giggled at the idea of little Peter with a big yellow smudge of mustard down his front, still beaming with a hotdog in one hand and a wad of blue and pink cotton candy in the other.

“Let’s leave them,” Pepper whispered silently to Tony, pulling him away and back up the stairs. “Charlie’s well-tended to.”

The next morning, Charlie awoke to find her head resting against Peter’s bare chest. Her arm was thrown across his torso, his own strong arms wrapped securely around her.

Warm.

No amount of fluffy blankets or fuzzy socks could’ve compared to the warmth Peter was providing her. He was practically a space heater. But as warm as he was, it didn’t seem to be affecting him at all. His skin wasn’t glistening with sweat, and his legs were wrapped up in Charlie’s comforter.

Charlie looked up at him, drinking in his features as the sun slowly began to peek through her curtains. His brown curls were wild, a few draping over his forehead and falling into his eyes. The rest saw fit to stick out in about a million different directions, and Charlie wished in that moment that she could reach up and smooth them down.

She had never seen anything more peaceful.

His pretty pink lips were parted just slightly, and she smiled a little at the slight stubble along his jawline. As her eyes drew downwards along his body, across his broad shoulders and his toned arms, not to mention his chest, Charlie felt herself swallow.

Oh.

So this was what it felt like.

Charlie had been a shut-in for as long as she could remember. Always home-schooled, usually by Tony or Happy. Always looking to her books for an escape to the outside world. She hadn’t even gone on her first real mission yet, and the ones she did go on were quick escapes to New York, where she sat on the sidelines with Peter and acted purely for surveillance.

She knew they did it to keep her safe.

But that didn’t make her feel any less trapped.

In other words, the only love Charlie ever felt was towards Steve, or Tony, or Pepper, or Happy, or Clint. Her surrogate parents. And they loved her right back as a daughter, so she’d never felt the sting of a love unrequited.

But she’d never felt this kind of love.

Was it even love at all? Charlie couldn’t be sure. But she felt butterflies start to prick at the lining of her stomach, and her heart beat faster in her chest. If it wasn’t love, it was definitely something.

Looking at Peter now, her heart hurt. She didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t feel the same, or if his Spider-Man duties pulled him away. But she did know if life had taught her anything at all, she needed to cherish this sunny morning before it dipped below the horizon and back into the darkness of night.

After all, night seemed to be the only thing Charlie was feeling these days.

So Charlie snuggled back into Peter, pressing herself firmly against his soft skin and taking a big, deep breath in. His smell alone was enough to calm her, and she started to feel herself drifting off to sleep once more.

Peaceful.

So, so peaceful.

Later that same morning, Charlie shuffled awake as the sun finally rose fully over the horizon, shimmering through the window and illuminating her face. The bright morning light welcomed her as her eyes blinked open, and she found herself pressed against Peter, her back up against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her. Their legs were a tangled mess, his soft snores tickling the skin on the back of her neck, goosebumps rising up each time he exhaled.

His lips were so close to her skin.

So, so close.

She ached to press back just a little, if only to feel the soft press of his lips against her shoulder blade. But instead, she settled for curling into him a little further, nuzzling his forearm with her nose.

It took a moment for her to realize she had awoken with a smile stretched across her lips.

And one thing was for sure: Charlie really didn’t want to move.

But her chapped lips and sore throat ached for water from crying so much the night before. She wriggled out of Peter’s grasp and made her way out of her room and into the hallway, ignoring the sound of Peter shifting awake behind her.

The sound of the TV playing softly greeted her as she padded into the living room, quiet as a mouse in case Tony was asleep on the couch again. Her feet made no sound against the hardwood floors as she slipped down the hallway and out into the wide expanse of the living room, the kitchen (and hydration) just a few feet away.

Tony’s dark hair was poking out against the back of the couch, Pepper’s blonde hair resting against his shoulder. They sat in front of the TV, still half asleep, and neither of them heard Charlie sneak into the living room. Neither of them heard her intake of breath at what was on the TV, either.

But still, as Charlie caught sight of the news footage struggling to keep up with the now war criminal Steve Rogers, she froze.

She’d recognize him anywhere.

And she thought her throat was dry before.

But now as she watched him flit across the screen in front of her, Natasha on his flank, she felt a whole new kind of parched. Her heart ripped clean out of her chest and fell to the ground beneath her, her soul right along with it, and she no longer had any power to move.

He looked so different.

His hair was longer. It was still the same shade of dirty blonde, but it almost reached the nape of his neck. She could just make out the beginnings of a beard streaking across his jawline, ruining his perfect skin with harsh lines of stubble. Charlie crumbled seeing him in front of her, and it took all of her strength not to fall to the floor beneath her.

He’d really let himself go.

If there was one thing she knew about Steve, he was as clean cut as could be. Always well shaven, always with trimmed hair. Always perfect. She knew deep down he kept himself that way so others around him could feel like they wouldn’t have to. Seeing him now, haggard and far too rough around the edges for her liking, felt like a swift kick to her ribs.

He was alive, thank god, and as real as the daylight pouring into the room around her.

And she hadn’t been enough to convince him to stay.

This is your fault.

You made him like this.

You ruined everything.

Peter trailed into the living room then, pulling his shirt over his head to cover his bare torso. He was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he nearly stumbled into Charlie. He caught himself as he nearly smacked into her, and his mouth opened as he caught sight of her. He was so close to asking her what was wrong. But as he looked from her tear-streaked face to the TV still lighting up with Steve’s face, he didn’t have to.

Peter could feel she was on the edge of full-blown panic just from watching her face suddenly blanch. Her jaw was hanging open slightly, but she wasn’t able to speak. Only small, barely audible squeaks left her lips.

So Peter pulled her away, before Tony and Pepper could even notice. He hauled her back into the safety of her room, closing the door silently behind him. When he turned back around, she was facing away from him, her head hung slightly and her shoulders slumped over.

All she could do was just...stand there. The tears streaming down her cheeks didn’t even register with her, and at this point, she couldn’t even tell if she was breathing or not.

But that was because she wasn’t.

Peter stepped forward until his chest was mere inches from her back, his hands coming up to gently press against her shoulders. He stroked her there, his fingers grazing against the skin of her upper arms.

Suddenly, she collapsed into him, a weak whimper escaping her lips as she finally breathed out, and he had to catch her in his arms before she crumbled to the ground. He sank down with her, clutching her to his chest, one hand coming up to press against her head.

“I know,” he whispered, trying to keep the tears at bay. Charlie wracked with sobs, her throat aching from being so dry. Barely any tears were there anymore, but that did nothing to lessen her cries.

“I know. I’m here - it’s alright. You’re gonna be alright.”

As she sat there clutching at Peter’s shirt, Charlie felt his palms press against her back so she was flush against him, his warmth radiating through her. And she thought, maybe for a second, that as long as Peter was there, she would be alright. But then her heart sagged in her chest, and she crumbled further into darkness. It felt like Peter’s chest wasn’t even there anymore. He was trying as hard as he could to hold her together, and she knew that.

But to Charlie, it seemed that even Peter couldn’t stop the never-ending darkness from trying to swallow her whole.

Taglist: @parrkerspeters @starksparker @madmadmilk @gottaletgopete @hollandroos @parkerpuffwrites @dontmindthefangirling @sunshinehollandd @hollandsosterfield @thewinterslut @aestheticgaybish @eeyore101247 @underoossss @bringmethehorizonandpizza @robbmestarklord @tomthwips @noswagswag @-thatgirloverthere- @thefallenbibliophilequote @marvellousparkerpeter @rosywaifu @maybemona @eridanuswave @deansbbysblog @nellyjan-th

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jksangelic · 6 years ago

Text

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: romance, angst, dry humor, smut, undergroundrapper!yoongi (don’t be fooled, yoongi is a soft lover in this), one-shot (divided for the sake of a functioning mobile tumblr)

↳ pairing: yoongi x reader

↳ parts: 1 | 2 | 3

↳ word count: 2.8k

↳ a/n: here’s the first part! second part comes tmro, and third comes the next day, both releasing at 10PM PST! please look forward to them heehehehe.

this part does not contain smut, only light swearing and maybe some sensual themes? i don’t remember lol. it’s also not very edited hehe i’ll come back to it.

*each squiggly divider represents a flashback, straight divider represents current time*

Yoongi preferred the heat set to exactly eighty degrees Fahrenheit, which was utterly ridiculous. It caused you to toss and turn in a pool of unattractive, and possibly foul-smelling, sweat all throughout the night. Even more so, he trapped you with his own limbs, protecting you like that stupid dog from Tom and Jerry protected that awfully large and awfully raw steak. You’ve fallen in and out of consciousness because of it, surely waking up every thirty minutes while the man slept like a log.

But it was wonderful.

You open your eyes for the umpteenth time, assuring he’s still attached to the hip and planting a kiss on his forehead sleepily. What a dream it would be to stay like this forever, you think, tossing the idea away as quickly as it came. It was punishing as is and you dare not tie the noose around your own neck.

You scan the room, curtains drawn closed and tv silently flicking through commercials, casting a dim width of light onto the bed. It must still be pretty early in the morning, you assume, a bittersweet realization.

Enjoy the moment, you correct yourself, be happy that you were able to have this. So you peer down at him through foggy vision, his eyes closed and mean, twitching a bit enough that you suppose he’s dreaming of something himself. Nudging your face into his hair, which smelled faintly of smoke and peaches, you force yourself back into slumber.

For the first time tonight, you sleep deeply.

Wondering how the hell anyone was permitted admission after the venue breached occupancy threefold, you rub at the aching spot of your ribs that your neighbor unintentionally keeps jabbing. You attempt to peer over the sea of heads anyway, looking for that goddamned girl that dragged you here in the first place. Where was she? Why was she so short? Why did you wear heels to a concert?

Never did you suspect you would be pushed against barricade at 11PM on a Thursday, waiting for an artist you have never heard. The sweat that accumulates, quite frankly, everywhere was probably starting to stain your clothes at this point. The beauty of public outings.

“Y/N! Y/N! Right here!” screams the woman of your nightmares, waving maniacally more towards the middle of the crowd than you but nevertheless farther than you would like to travel in this density. You make your trek, apologizing profusely as full-grown adults glare at you for moving, oh help them all.

“I will have your head for this,” you yell into her ear, gripping the divider to ease the stinging pain stemming from your toes.

“Lighten up, you’re at a concert that you got into for free, for heaven’s sake,” Chungha pouts, bopping her head happily to whatever DJ was opening for her beloved. “I think you’ll like these guys, anyway. Really good rappers, up-and-coming and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, if they even show up. This poor dude has been playing for over an hour. Do you suppose his fingers hurt from pressing all those buttons?” She rolls her eyes in a way that says, please stop already. You really just want to know.

If this DJ had any influence of what the main act would be, you would rather just leave, plain and simple. This wasn’t really your thing in the first place, Overwatch and Red Dead Redemption (not one, but TWO!) sounding much more appealing than listening to EDM’s Worst Hits. But Chungha was a sweetheart who you’d marry in an instant, and when she asked you to come and claimed she already got you a ticket because she knew you couldn’t possibly say no to her, well, you couldn’t possibly say no to her.

You even dressed up for the occasion, a mix of Instagram baddie and Tumblr aesthetic (a sum of words you’d never like to use again) smooshed into one oddly cute outfit, if you did say so yourself.

It wasn’t worth your time.

But then the music starts changing pace, lights changing colors and dimming and smoke machines going ham and you suppose it’s finally starting. Three men walk out, one with orange hair and a long but pretty nose, heart mouth showcasing the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen on a human being, the second slightly shorter, bleached hair styled messily and the hand holding his mic covered in rings, the final with a smirking dimple, leading them out and hyping up the crowd with a few welcoming words that you don’t quite make out.

“There’s three,” you state dumbly.

“Great job counting! Remind me to give you a cookie later,” Chungha retorts halfheartedly, much more intrigued by seeing these men in person, “The guy in front is RM, he’s their leader. Blonde is Suga. J-Hope is the sexy one—HOSEOK OPPA!” She screams as if she’s been struck with a spatula, eyes wide and focusing.

You like their style, you’ll give them that. RM starts the song strong, lyrics so quick and diction so clear that it sounds as if he’s rapping directly to you. They all bounce around the stage, people at barricade, including your friend, reaching out and bobbing along in synchronization. J-Hope follows suit, stage presence oddly intimidating and seductive concurrently, his body more fluid and powerful than any dancer you’ve seen before. You can see why he would be the ladies’ man, lying to yourself if you said your eyes haven’t focused on his hips more often than not.

And without warning, Suga bursts into his own lines, atmosphere changing almost immediately when he brings the mic to his mouth. It’s hypnotic, his words continuously stringing out without break, without a single beat missed. You watch in fear. As the crowd around you screams and attempts to chime in, Suga steps closer and closer to them, squatting down right in front of where you stand and finishing his part with a deep, breathy note. He sits there as both men and women (and Chunga) paw at him and for the smallest of moments, do you think, his eyes lock on you.

It sets you on fire.

Yoongi always made it a point to study the faces of his fans out of appreciation. It would be foolish to say he’d be able to recognize each and every person he’s ever encountered, but he knows you were one to sketch into the archives of his mind. It doesn’t help that you are the only one, mouth slightly agape and teeth biting the inside of your cheek, completely still and studying. For the first time in a while, he feels intimidated; self-conscious even. More than a listener amongst the energetic mob, you look more like a critic.

It makes him shiver.

I would be his groupie in a heartbeat, you think, no doubt that he too is infamous around women wherever he goes. Whatever the matter, seeing this enigma of a man was worth your whole night’s experience.

I love, I love, I love myself! The audience screams, bass intensifying as the other two reach for water bottles propped on the stage. I love, I love, I love myself!

J-Hope throws in some ad-libs, sipping from his water before chucking the lid entirely, Namjoon putting a hand to his ear to egg everyone on and holding his own water above. You still stand in place, astonished how ethereal someone can look on stage and you instantaneously understand why people barricade. Suga catches you again, still squatted in the same position, possibly too lazy to get a water for himself but lets his brothers do what they must, and grins subtly.

You must look absolutely moronic gaping at this man, tongue-in-cheek impressed and hands barely gripped around the bars while everyone else around strains to be closer to the stars of the night.

I love, I love, I love myself! Y’all player hater, you should love yourself!

And that’s when you get—at least, half of a water bottle’s worth of water thrown at your direction. Right in front of the newfound man of your dreams. Everyone else screams madly, acting like these gods have blessed their parched souls with water after days on end, while you now look a little like a wet dog dressed in a hoochie skirt. You shrug, wiping at whatever was worth attempting to dry and thanking the gods that your makeup wasn’t running.

“Oh my god, your shirt is soaked!” Chungha lately notices, head whipping back and forth from the boys to you, back to the boys just in case she was missing something important.

“I would sell myself for that man,” you deadpan, not even blinking towards her.

“Suga? I bet he would accept if you managed to offer it to him.”

“I would easily give him all of the money in my savings right now.”

“You don’t have a savings. Pay attention.”

So you did.

You relished in every part Suga had, finally gathering up enough brain cells to at least rock with everyone else. Every song was like a lucid dream, the concert high really resonating with you. Either that, or you were literally high off of how much smoke there was. Gotta love rap concerts.

Perhaps it was the luck of the opening song, but Suga didn’t make eye contact with you again, a beaten disappointment gurgling in your stomach. But instead of behaving as a kicked puppy and moping about losing every possible chance that the blonde devil would bring you atop the stage and dedicate his serenade of sorts strictly to your face in front of hundreds of people--well, the chances were nearly zero. We're not all winners.

Suga continues on, trying not to focus on the girl with the sharp eyes that makes him clammy to the point where his throat threatens to constrict on him, which isn't optimal. He finishes song after song with his brothers, taking long enough breaks in between to catch his breath and focus on the bigger picture: that there was an entire crowd to please and not just you. Besides, there would always be a pretty or handsome face no matter where he went, he was Suga, goddammit, he wasn't a high school horndog ready to pounce on every intriguing entity he just casually glanced at. That role was a style more befitting for his brothers.

Upon your cognizance that this group was downright brilliant, the concert ends much sooner than you would have liked it. And just like that, the three send their love and are ushered behind the stage. It takes a while for the swarm to dissipate, interlacing your fingers with Chungha's to insure you don't lose her again.

"So, I take it you liked them," she giggles, forehead sheen with sweat because holy shit it's so fucking hot in here.

"They are really... talented. I award proper recognition when it's truly deserved." Tired of waiting, you practically shove your way past the bodies, dragging your poor friend behind you and bee-lining for the entrance.

"Wait! Do you want to get merch?" You twitch your nose, not entirely opposing the idea.

"Are you sure you don't want to just hop in? I'll pay for you!" Chungha cries, halfway into her Uber.

"Sis, I live down the street, I promise I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get home."

"That's so far!"

"I'm walking away now. Go home."

She harrumphs once for effect before waving goodbye, Prius soundlessly whooshing away while your best friend sticks her tongue out at you in the back window. You laugh at her foolishness before spinning on your heel and making your way.

It was just the right amount of chilly, breeze cooling you down a notch. You bet your ass you would remember this night forever, writing a mental note to check out the group on every social platform there was when you got home.

You skirt down a corner of the building, aiming for the route of your apartment--or, at least, where you think it is? "Sense of direction" surely wasn't the best trait on your resume. Walking down the dim street, you notice a few trickling souls walking in and out of the building, probably help from the venue closing up. It's when you see Suga, attempting to light his cigarette and leaning against a black van that you stop like a deer in headlights.

"Suga!" you point and exclaim like a child.

"... Wanna say that any louder, toots?" He chuckles, though, seemingly pleased rather than offended. He scoffs at his empty lighter, tucking the thing in his pocket and leaving his cigarette unlit on his lips.

"S-Sorry. My bad. Do you, uh, need a light?" you offer apologetically, digging through your purse to grab your lucky lighter, an embarrassing bright pink thing with Betty Boop floating in the middle.

"Thanks," he smiles, grabbing the lighter from your hand and flicking it to life as he takes a drag. "Do you smoke?"

"Not cigarettes. Honestly, I already regret offering that to you. That's a bad habit to kick," you sigh, taking it back when he hands it to you.

"Don't I know it." He glances up at your face when he returns your lighter, showing a regretful smirk but studying your face in the process. Well, hell, if it wasn't for the barricade critic.

"I recognize you," he continues, "you were up front, right?"

"Oh, god, I can't believe you remember that."

His heart skips at the match, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth and pushing himself off the van. "You, uh, looked unimpressed. Got me worried that I lost my game for a bit."

"No! I wasn't unimpressed at all. I'm just a new fan, I guess. My friend brought me. I think I was just in awe, if anything. I even got this hood--"

You quite literally bite your tongue, wishing you could slap your face at the outburst, realization running over you like a train.

"You got what?" he presses, a sly curiousness brimming.

"N-Nothing. You were good. That's all."

"'That's all'? Geez, you're really putting me down over here, toots." He throws the butt and stomps it out, "Those eyes of yours really made me nervous."

Your eyes? How smooth of him. "Oh, I doubt that. You seemed just fine to me."

He hesitates to respond; what exactly are you trying to get at here? Sweet and sour, he supposes. It's interesting to him compared to the countless amount of substance-less gals that suck up to him to simply suck him. New fans certainly were feisty, he supposes.

"Do you live around here?" he asks.

"Are you going to stalk me? Yes."

"Well, if I was, you probably shouldn't have said yes before I answered. But luckily, no." He sticks out his hand, clad with rings of, you're sure of, soaring prices beyond what you can imagine for jewelry, "I'm Min Yoongi. But I guess everyone kinda just calls me Suga now. You can call me Yoongi, if you'd like. Can I ask for your name?"

You take his hand softly, hoping he doesn't notice the way you shrink in it because heavens that near-zero chance of meeting Suga certainly did skyrocket. "It's Y/N."

"Mm, pretty," he comments surely. "Well, Y/N. We're actually going to be here for a while, just finished a few shows here and there and decided to take a break until we can figure out bigger plans," he's talking too much, "Anyway, would you want to hang out sometime?"

You shiver in astonishment, what was happening here? What kind of lucky star flew over your head for this? Your goosebumps had goosebumps.

"That... Yeah, that would be great! Do you... Do you want my number?"

"Would love it," he declares, taking his phone out and setting up your contact without delay.

"Do you do this much? Snag a girl's number after a show?" you joke as you type in your number. Yoongi snorts.

"Girls don't necessarily talk to me in a well-respected manner, let alone offer me a light."

"Well, don't expect that last bit anymore. Smoking really is a pet-peeve of mine," you warn. Who were you to warn him of something you didn't like? Idiot!

"Yes, ma'am. I'll shoot you a text sometime. Was nice meeting you," he says, watching you nod and smile and wave goodbye as you continue on home, Suga's name printed enormously on the back of the new sweatshirt you bought from the merch stand. He bites back a snicker, picking at the hair on his neck before walking back inside.

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kaisooficrec · 6 years ago

Note

Hi mods, thanks for opening up the Ask box! It's my first time doing this :/ hope I do it right… Can I ask for recs of long fics (say more than 50k? can be chaptered/one-shot) that the mods like but think are underrated? They can be any genre, and they can be from any writers (even some of the older ones who wrote more before 2017?) Thank you!!

Hi lovely anon! You rang the right bell because we have TONS of long fics to rec!! There are old fics but also a lot of recent ones, many different AUs and they’re all above 50k! ! we also made sure to rec fics that are underrated and need more recognition. It will probably take a long time to read all of those so TAKE YOUR TIME AND ENJOY

Amuse-Bouche - hehe this was recced not too long ago but its place on this list still stands! Chefs AU, very unique fic and extremely realistic! a true gem. (139k words)

Legends: The Chosen Twelve - this is an oldie! it was recced back in 2014 but still is pretty underrated and such an amazing fic! it’s ot12, MAMA AU. enjoy ^^ (151k words)

All is Said and Done - another oldie! BFFs!kaisoo that fall in love. it’s angsty c: (70k words)

Common Ground - also from 2014, this is a fantasy/ghost AU that doesn’t disappoint! (84k words)

Start Over - High School AU, lots of drama :’) originally posted in 2012, deserves so much more recognition! (65k words)

Lapis Lazuli - Fantasy + (School of) Magic AU, originally written for the exordium fest in 2015! ot12 although Kaisoo are one of the main pairings. There are adventures and action, it’s very entertaining, a good read c: (55k words)

If Only for Tonight - College AU, pretty angsty (warnings: violence, character death). Police officer Kyungsoo meets gangster jongin :-) (56k words)

French Lilac - Artist AU, jongin loves kyungsoo’s voice, but he’s already married. angst + smut. (50k words)

Trust You The Most - Cat Hybrids AU!! we need more of those . Soo ran a shelter for hybrids and he ends up (accidentally) keeping one for himself. (52k words)

Dear You - Kyungsoo really, really tries to get over Jongin. It’s not that easy. (sorry for all the angst o/) (59k words)

EXODUS - Supernatural AU, Kyungsoo meets a creature that makes him feel safe and cherished (55k words)

Beautiful Butterfly - CEO!Jongin and HS student!Soo, nini tries dealing with all the confessions thrown his way. Read on AFF. (63k words)

hearts and bones - High School AU, swimmer!jongin and photographer!soo meet, and the unexpected happens. (68k words)

Mixed Feelings - College AU, soo has a crush on his straight roommate jongin. pretty fluffy (50k words)

Fly With Me - Fantasy and Fae AU, jongin wanted an escape from reality but he didn’t intend to meet a bunch of men with wings on their backs. (warnings: slight gore, character death) (50k words)

Moon-Child - Fantasy AU, Kaisoo find themselves caught in a fairy tale. (warnings: character death). smutty too (51k words)

Save Yourself - Fantasy & Magic AU, Hybrids AU, War AU. Jongin is a cat hybrid and Kyungsoo’s just trying to make the spell that could save them all work. (68k)

The Stars, Our Saviour - Space AU (+ Royalty AU) + Bounty Hunter AU. Very impressive and unique fic! also smutty ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (77k words)

Close To Home - a kai-centric fic, kaixeveryone but mainly/endgame kaisoo. Soulmates AU + Aliens AU. very smutty. (warnings: alien dicks?? alien sex, tentacles and knotting) (53k words)

Across - Assasins + Hitman AU, dark themes. (WARNINGS!: mental illness, mental instability, blood, violence, gore, murder, unhealthy relationship, mental and physical abuse.) Jongin has a crush on hitman!soo. Things don’t turn out as he planned. If you like freaky stuff, this is for you. (69k words)

Ghost of You - Future + Robots AU. Robots VS Humans. Kaisoo. A love story. (59k words)

Monster - VAMPIRE AU YES!!!! I can’t believe this isn’t as popular as it should be! one of my absolute favorites, it’s vampires VS vampire hunters, a fic where jongin realizes vampires aren’t all bad (especially kyungsoo). OT12 and definitely underrated. (115k words) (warnings: unhealthy to healthy relationships, blood (obviously), murder, psychopath killer, attempted rape)

Bugs and Space Elves - LOVE LOVE LOVE! !! this was originally posted for the happyendingexo fest, but the author decided to rewrite some old parts and continue with the story and i’ve never been more thankful. IT’S SO UNIQUE AND WELL WRITTEN AND MINDBLOWING! i really love this. Fantasy, Sci-Fi and Space AU, human kyungsoo helps elf jongin on his quest to save the universe! worth the read, i promise. (96k words)

The Gates of Horn and Ivory - married!kaisoo are taken into a world of darkness that they probably should’ve avoided. Dark fairy tale elements. (135k words)

The Boy Next Door - kyungsoo finds out his neighbour is a pornstar ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) very funny, fluffy and smutty. PERFECT TRIO! (53k words)

The War. (226k words) + The One After Ten Years. (149k words, on-going) (sequel) - WHERE DO I EVEN START? these are MONSTER fics! OT12, High School AU and Slice of Life AU in the sequel, but also includes their powers from MAMA era. Kaisoo is one of the two main pairings and honestly, these two fics gave me so much feels. It’s not underrated per se but has been only recced once on the blog and i wanted to fix this!

Kim Jongin’s Must Kiss List - College AU, kyungsoo embarrassed himself in front of nini a few years back and he’s still bitter and hateful about it, but jongin won’t stop running after him. (66k words)

2088 - Sci-Fi + Dystopia AU, kyungsoo has a mission to find a mutant boy after the war, but he realizes too late that they’re all just pawns part of a bigger plan. THIS IS HIGHLY UNDERRATED! (122k words)

I Feel Awake (This Time) - Hotel manager jongin and detective kyungsoo : truly a concept! the story of how jongin did his best to win the love of do kyungsoo. THIS FIC DESERVES SO MUCH LOVE! (57k words)

Being Brave - Non AU + Slice of Life AU. cute and smutty stories of kaisoo :-) (95k words)

Perfection - College AU, ballet dancer!jongin is going through a rough time. will singer!kyungsoo be able to save him and give him hope? (53k words)

Through Fire and Ashes - this was originally posted for the exoggedon fest but deserves so much more recognition!! Post-apocalyptic AU + Zombies AU. Basically humans VS zombies, established!kaisoo are ready to help defend their town. (warnings: blood, gore, side character death, PTSD) - ALSO MY FAVE - J

BITE - Vampire + Werewolf AU, both species are rivals (kind of like a twilight parody). Kaisoo and Chanbaek are both the main pairings, Baeksoo are vampires who find their soulmates in werewolves Chankai. Very interesting story! ! worth a shot :D (50k words, on-going)

Admin Macaroon at your service 💜

Mirrors - Youtuber AU, College AU, 132k and ongoing!!! kyungsoo makes covers a popular songs on yt and his fans get into a fight with fans of an idol named kai. it’s minty-pixie whew!

Horizon - 63k. one of the less known works of jongnugget imo! they have soo many fics over 50k wow :’) jongin is a new student at his hs and meets boy that changes his life

Kiss and Cry - 93k, figure skating au. jongnugget did it again

Enamoured - 96k. age gap with teacher soo and bad boy jongin, who is a lot younger than soo. soo always helps him and jongin likes him but they can’t be together for many reasons obvi. happy ending!

Bus Rides & Sleepy Misses - 133k, ot12 with main kaisoo ;) both meet on a bus ride and immediately catch each other’s attention! soft and fluffy :)

Two Sugars / AO3 - 57k, ongoing jfjsjf this is so good ;) a lot of smut, fluff, comfort a bit drama whew! fashion editor soo falls in love with a cute barista by day, sexy dancer by night jongin and when they are together it’s very…cute and sexy :p

Lackadaisical Blue + White Night of Silence- 53k and 61k, kingsman au, with spy exo, also ofc there’s kaisoo too, and this is absolutely well-written!!! if you know And the Rose Said to Me, you’ll understand the quality of these stories!!

Growing Seasons: A Universe of Us - Farmer AU, farmer jongin finds an unknown bloodied man passed out in his cabbage field and decides to take care of him, not knowing this man will change his life forever. (warnings: blood, PTSD, mentions of murder) (77k words) - Adm. Ginger

- Admin J

#kaisoo #kadi #fic request #admin macaroon #j #r:longfic

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garyofrivia · 6 years ago

Text

For They Shall Be Satisfied

Arthur Morgan x OC Chapter 3

(masterlist in bio)

A/N: yeehaw, some soft moments finally!! more where that came from hehe ;;))

Warnings/Categories: Violence, Angst

(WC: 4,356)

Back at camp, things were more lively than usual. The night before, the girls were in town working the saloon so they hadn’t had a chance to celebrate the success of the caravan robbery. Hosea and Pearson had brought in a wagonload full of beer and whiskey and they all had plans to get drunk out of their minds.

Annie had done her best to avoid Dutch when Arthur went to go talk with him and Hosea. She didn’t have the capacity to deal with any more politics that day, Dutch’s mind games included, and elected to go pass out for a few hours to make up for not sleeping the night before. It helped some, but she feared that the heavy feeling of her anxiety wouldn’t be put to rest by anything other than alcohol.

“You better slow down there,” Tilly said as Annie ravenously shoveled another spoonful of stew into her mouth. The pair of them were eating at the poker table and she realized that this was her first full meal in three days. “You might end up eatin’ the bowl!”

“So be it,” Annie said, chewing loudly.

“Good Lord, you’re no better than the men, Annie!” she said as she laughed and made a face.

“That’s not news, my friend. How’ve things been?”

“They’re better. Karen’s pleased that we’ll all be drinkin’ tonight since she won’t be the only one.”

“I’d imagine so,” Annie said. Mary-Beth and Karen took a seat next to them at the table, giggling and chatting between themselves.

“How are ya, Annie?” Mary-Beth asked in a sing-song voice as she ripped a chunk of bread into four parts to share with the rest of them.

“Never better. You’re a ray of sunshine today.”

Mary-Beth grinned. “I got this new journal in town yesterday. It has a pretty white leather binding and a clasp and everything!”

Annie smiled at her. “Sounds nice, I’m glad for you.”

“I told her she’d better not get too distracted or ole Grimshaw’s gonna throw it in the campfire,” Karen said.

They all tried not to make eye contact with Susan from across camp as they laughed. “You’re not kiddin’,” Tilly said.

“I’m upset I missed out on killin’ them O’Driscolls yesterday,” Karen said to Annie with a fascinated tone in her voice. “Sean told me you dropped ten of the bastards yourself!”

Annie shook her head and smirked. “Nah, only six.”

“Six! Now, that sounds like a party!”

“How are things around here?” Annie said, changing the subject.

“They’re fine, no thanks to you. You, missy, are lucky Miss Grimshaw’s been cuttin’ us all some slack with the chores as of recently. I’m not entirely sure why, but hey, I’m not complainin’.”

“I think she’s been gettin’… ya know… relieved of stress.” Mary-Beth said, low enough so that only the they could hear.

“Mary-Beth!” Tilly gasped. “No, there’s no way.”

Karen cackled hysterically. “Yes, there is no way.”

“I’m serious! Think about it. She’s spent an awful lot of time in Blackwater the past few days.”

Annie swallowed a stew-soaked bite of bread and chuckled. “Oh, if only life were as simple as those romance stories you read, Mary-Beth.”

“A girl can dream.”

Letting her mind wander away from the conversation, Annie looked out at all the familiar faces, friendly and unfriendly. Lenny, Charles, Swanson, Uncle, the Callander brothers, and Javier were all gathered around Sean at the campfire laughing hysterically at whatever story he was telling. Hosea and Arthur were standing at the opening of Dutch’s tent with Molly just inside, all having a quiet drink and smiling together. Micah and Bill were trash talking each other at the five-finger-fillet table and it was starting to get heated. Susan and Strauss were sitting peacefully near the medicine wagon, looking off over the ridge and the river. Abigail was playing with Jack near their tent, John just a few feet away watching them with sad eyes. The pair of them had just finished arguing about god knows what, but a few words thrown at John from Arthur ended it quicker than it started.

For a moment, it suddenly occurred to her what it all meant- and what it would really mean to lose all of it. If the bank shipment robbery was a success, that’d everything she needed to disappear and start over on her own. The thought made her stomach churn.

“Annie?” Karen’s voice snapped her back to reality.

The three girls at the table had a rare warmness about them. Their soft, carefree faces gave her he reminder she needed to put aside her troubles for the time being. It was not the night to think about what would be lost. That night would come soon enough.

“Want another drink? I was about to get a round for us.”

She smiled. “Sure, thanks, Karen.”

Soon enough, everyone was dancing, laughing, and talking around the big campfire. Hosea told one of his tall tales about his journeys out west. Dutch eventually put on his phonograph when everyone’d had plenty to drink. Arthur was even dancing with Karen and although he was terrible, swinging her all sorts of directions and swaying entirely off beat, she seemed to be enjoying it.

“My lady,” a lively voice broke through Annie’s mild buzz. Hosea held out a hand for her, inviting her to join the party instead of just observe it. “May I have this dance?”

“Why, yes sir, you may,” she said with a wide grin. She tossed her hat on her chair as he led her to a clear spot.

He led well and even flourished her a bit, careful to keep it subtle so she didn't feel like she was embarrassing herself. Though, to her dismay, she stumbled on a loose rock which prompted a comment about how she was better with using gun than she was with using her own two feet. She hadn’t seen him laugh this much in a long time. Since Bessie died, he’d grown a bit distant and bitter, but he never lost his wit. It was nice to see the rare occasion where he was enjoying himself.

“Have you given any thought to what we talked about?” he said, still smiling.

“I-, um, yeah. A bit,” she said, looking down to watch their feet move in sync.

“Good. Don’t worry, we don’t have to talk about it. You seemed… deep in thought earlier. I just hope that wasn’t my doing.”

“No, just today was a bit…”

“Chaotic?”

She chuckled. “Yes. To say the least.”

“Arthur told Dutch and I about the girl and the O’Driscolls. And that fella Benson. Why is it always the smooth talkin’, city-folk that are so slippery? Trelawny is the same way. More myth than man.”

“It’s not just city folk, it’s mountain men, too. And prairie girls. Let us not forget what you and I do.”

“Oh, I’d never,” Hosea said, laughing. “It takes one to know one, that’s for sure.”

Annie noticed that Sean had cut in to dance with Karen and Arthur was seated on a crate near Pearson’s wagon, whiskey in hand.

Hosea winked at her and called out to him. “Arthur! Get over here and take over, my back is killing me.”

“I’m good, Hosea,” Arthur said, smiling and raising his hands in defeat.

“You’re going to abandon a lady just like that, then?”

“Fine, fine, I’m comin’.” He reluctantly set his drink down and walked over to the pair of them.

“Thank you for a lovely dance, Miss Bolton,” Hosea said, bowing as he spoke. “I fear I must retire myself for this young fella here.”

“You were the one that called me over.”

“It’s fine if you want to cut in Arthur,” Annie nudged.

Arthur rolled his eyes and shooed Hosea away with a flick of his hand. “Get outta here, old man.”

“You kids and your entitled attitudes!” Hosea teased as he slinked off to get another drink for himself. “Got no respect for your elders!”

Arthur took over for Hosea, his strong, calloused hands replacing Hosea’s warm, weathered ones. He seemed a bit uncomfortable which made Annie blush slightly, but he eased into her stride. They were standing close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck, sending a chill down her spine. Neither of them enjoyed physical closeness, but for Annie, it never felt uncomfortable when it was with Arthur for some reason. She briefly wondered if he felt the same.

“How are you doin’?” he finally asked, breaking a silence she didn’t even realize was there before.

“Better, now that I’ve had a few beers.”

“Ain’t that how it always goes?”

“Indeed it is. He seems to be enjoying himself,” she said, nodding towards a seemingly very drunk Pearson who was dancing by himself, completely out of time with his arms outstretched as if he was holding a partner.

“That’s the most he’s gotten in months,” Arthur said, giggling like a kid.

She grinned at his goofy laugh and gave him a look of surprise. “Mister Morgan, are you drunk?”

“I think I may be gettin’ there, Miss Bolton.”

As she laughed, she looked into his soft, ocean colored eyes. They glistened with the light of the fire, like a sunset over a lake. “I’m not.”

“Well, then why the hell are we dancin’? Let’s get some whiskey in you.” He took her hand and led her over near Pearson’s wagon and handed her a small bottle of liquor from the box. “Drink up.”

She took a few large gulps which an impressed eyebrow raise from Arthur. He pulled up a second stool and they both sank into their seats, silently agreeing to keep all future partner dancing to a minimum.

“Cheers,” Arthur said and they they clinked their bottles together. “So, Dutch says he wants to go for the Benson job. Hosea on the other hand wasn’t too excited for it when I told him how things went down.”

She glanced at him for a hint of an expression, but his face was unchanged. “Did you actually tell them how it went?”

“Yes, I did. Hey, you had the opportunity to be there if you wanted to. But you have... other plans."

She furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a look that half asked him to keep quiet while in the middle of camp and the other asking him if he was still angry about her plan to leave.

He laughed lightly. "Relax, I won't get on you for that no more. Well, not tonight, anyways."

She sighed and shook her head. “It’s just a bad idea.”

“I agree, but we need the money. There’ll be close to a hundred thousand dollars on that shipment. Half that is a good take for us. Better than good.”

“Yeah, well…”

She couldn’t argue with him there, though she doubted this would be the end of that conversation. If it ended up being a trap, she figured they’d likely been in worse situations before. Hopefully, it’d be nothing they couldn’t handle.

She took in the sounds of the party for a moment- the laughing, singing, Javier’s guitar now playing instead of the phonograph. It felt like Christmas.

“Hey, Arthur,” she said, suddenly feeling the liquor creeping up on her. “What’s the best Christmas gift you ever got?”

“What?”

“Christmas! Don’t tell me you’ve never gotten a Christmas present before.”

“I have.”

“Well, what was it then?”

He thought for a moment. “Well, my pa and I rarely ever did anything like that. Dutch bought me my first horse, though. I suppose that’s somethin’.”

“Shit, a horse?”

“Yup. Buttercup. I was sixteen and still couldn’t come up with a better name for a palomino pony than that.” He chuckled at the thought.

She shrugged. “It’s a nice name.”

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“What was the best gift you ever got for Christmas?”

“Hmm. The gift of friendship!”

He rolled his eyes. “No, no, I told you, now you gotta tell me.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, the stress from recent events, or a combination of the two, but she started speaking before she knew what it was that came over her.

“My daddy gave me a bracelet a long time ago. And my mama got me the matching necklace. They weren’t nothin’ expensive. I suppose it was all they could do.”

Arthur nodded and hummed softly, carefully taking in her words.

“I lost the pieces within a week, of course. Though, I sure wish I hadn’t.”

He paused for a moment, thoughtfully. “It’s funny, lookin’ back at things like that. You never know, in the moment, which things’ll have fond memories attached and which things just sorta... fade away.”

Remembering the flower on his bedside table next to the portrait of his mother, she knew he understood. The man beside her had known pain just as she had, or at least had known loss. For some reason it was a difficult thought, to know he’s lost so much, too. She almost wanted to push back the hair that had fallen over his forehead and ask about his life before Dutch and the outlaw life that didn’t really make sense anymore. About what his mother was like, or what his son was like- what everything was like for him back then. But a different question came to mind.

“What happens when all this is done with?” She asked suddenly. “Everything with the robbin’ and the killin’? If that job pulls through, that could be it.”

He sighed and looked to the stars twinkling overhead. “I haven’t really thought about that.”

Annie tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, you have.”

“Sure, but it’s all just in theory. No use in gettin’ anyone’s hopes up in case this ends up not workin’ out.”

“Then what do you hope for? Ideally?”

“I don’t know. To just live, I guess. Get a ranch like Dutch says. Free of the law and all the gangs tryina chase us. Maybe somewhere in the mountains out west. Those sunsets are incredible.”

Annie nodded, her vision slightly blurring with the movement, and she realized how truly intoxicated she was. “Well, that sure is somethin’, ain’t it?”

“What about you? You seem to have everything figured out.”

“I guess, I just hope I die old.”

Arthur laughed. “That’s it?”

“Sure. Folks don’t make a habit of livin’ very long in this line of work. I just wanna turn gray and wrinkly and fragile and die at home in my bed knowin’ that I did everything I could. What else is there, in the end?”

“I guess you have a point.”

“I always have a point, Arthur Morgan.”

She stood and started off go join the party again as the first of the drinking games commenced. But something in her paused, mid-stride. She turned to look back at Arthur as he watched her leave.

Smiling warmly and with a sincerity that hadn’t shown itself in a long time, she held his gaze. “I hope you get your mountain ranch.”

***

The morale boost that the party had faded quickly and Annie fell back into her routine of feeding the horses, cleaning guns, and hunting for camp, her low mood returning with the responsibility along with everyone else's. Talk of a new job had spurred impatience and restlessness. Maybe it was the dry air or the simple, lonesome town of Blackwater, but everyone seemed bored out of their minds.

Dutch sent Arthur to meet with Benson to give him an answer at the scheduled time and place and they were given three days to prepare until the convoy was set to arrive. Hosea was the one that had the idea to verify that there was a legitimate delivery. Karen volunteered to sweet talk the bank manager and sure enough, he confirmed it.

“He said that it’s more security on that those coaches than anything he’s ever heard of,” she told them.

Hosea rubbed his chin in thought but Dutch didn’t look worried. “We’ll have that diversion from Benson’s side. It shouldn’t be a problem, we’ve dealt with plenty of escorts before.”

“What exactly is the diversion?” Annie asked.

“He said he was still figurin’ out a few of the minor details, and that was apparently one of ‘em,” Arthur said.

“The diversion isn’t a minor detail,” she said. “It’s the one thing in this plan that’ll help it to not be a complete disaster.”

“I’d suggest we have a backup plan then,” Dutch said, a bit too harshly. “You’re so fond of coming up with those, so it shouldn’t be nothin’ that we need to worry about.”

“She’s right, Dutch,” Hosea said.

Annie looked between Dutch and Arthur expectantly, but neither said anything. The four of them, John, and Karen were gathered around Dutch’s tent. He was in a bad mood for some ungodly reason, so the conversation was a bit more difficult than it usually was.

“I know she’s right, Hosea, thank you,” Dutch snapped.

“Why don’t we do this another time?” John said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“We don’t have time, dumbass,” Arthur said.

“We’ll have a plan,” Dutch said. “Because Hosea and Annie are gonna handle this. Figure it out. Now, I have a few other things to attend to if you lot will kindly get the hell out of my tent.”

Annie rolled her eyes and looked to Hosea to say something. He sucked his teeth and looked up to meet her eyes. “We’ll take care of it, Dutch.”

Karen gave Annie a look of annoyance and snuck away from the rest of them as they headed towards the game table. Hosea spread out a map of the area with the delivery route traced by Benson.

“Here’s all we have. They want it to take place here,” he said, pointing to a spot a few miles north of Blackwater.

“Is no one gonna talk about Dutch?” John interjected.

“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” Arthur said a bit too quickly.

“Why’s he in one of his moods?”

“I don’t know, let it go.”

John looked up at Annie for a response but was only met with an icy glare. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “Alright.”

“What if we made our own diversion if they end up not comin’ through for us?” Arthur said.

“Why would they not come through with their end of the deal?” Annie droned. She had given up on trying to hide her frustration. “It’d give us a window to grab all the money, not just fifty percent. The trap would never be in the shipment or the ambush. If anything it’d be in the escape. A setup so they can take all the cash and then set the law on us for the bounty money. And they’d be sittin’ mighty pretty on that mountain of gold.”

Arthur leaned toward her, folding his hands on the table. Annie remained slouched with her arms crossed. “Did it occur to you to share that before now?”

“It didn’t come up before now,” she shrugged. “We don’t even know who these fools are, I told you my piece from the beginning.”

“I agree with you, but that don’t matter. We just gotta do what we gotta do.”

“And walk right into a trap is what we gotta do, then? Like we’re fuckin’ blind?”

“Can we focus on this and get at least some semblance of a plan so we can tell that pinhead over there something?” Hosea insisted. “You three can squabble about this later. If we plan for the worst, we’ll be prepared for the worst. It’s simple, really.”

Arthur and John nodded reluctantly and Annie decided to swallow her pride, at least for the moment. She turned her attention to the map and began running the scenarios through in her head, talking aloud as she thought it through.

“If the diversion doesn’t happen, though I’m bettin’ it will, we don’t move on it, simple as that,” she said. “Every move we make has to have some kinda signal. We split into three groups around the ambush point, two here and one here. One rider from each group hangs back to keep watch while the rest go in for the take. If they see somethin’ they’ll signal and we abort immediately. If it ends up bein’ clear all the way through, we secure our half before we make our getaway.”

“What if it’s just a bounty setup and it’s a bunch of lawmen expectin’ us?” John asked, making Arthur roll his eyes.

Annie scoffed. “Then we all die in a blaze of glory, I guess.”

Hosea sighed and shook his head. “Dutch thinks it’s a risk we need to take.”

“To hell with what Dutch thinks,” she blurted out before she realized what she was saying. Arthur and John stared at her and she couldn’t tell if they were surprised or angry. “I didn’t mean… All I’m sayin’ is… it’s a stupid idea. We shouldn’t just do it because Dutch says so.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened and his nostrils flared. Yep, he’s mad.

“Annie...” Hosea warned.

She paused for a moment and looked between the three of them, anger rising in her chest. Hosea was tense, Arthur angry, and John clearly exasperated.

“What’s your deal?” Arthur asked, shaking his head in frustration.

She huffed an shifted in her seat. “Nothin’, I guess.”

“Annie, you can take a minute to cool off,” Hosea said, calmly. “We can come back to this later.”

“Yeah, let’s waste precious time while we let everyone take a personal day,” Arthur muttered. “Wonderful idea.”

“C’mon, just calm down,” John pleaded. “Nothin’s gonna get done if we’re all at each other’s throats.”

“Shut up, Marston,” Arthur snapped. “You’re the one to lecture about ‘teamwork’, are you?”

Annie couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word, she jumped to her feet and stormed away from the table, nearly knocking her chair over in the process. It took all she had to not pummel Sean when he accidentally got in her way. She grabbed a carton of cigarettes and matches from her things and strode over to go sit on a log near the river. With shaky hands, she lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and plopped down on the dead slab of wood.

There were so many other ways to earn money, ways that didn’t involve trusting a conman. It didn’t make sense why Dutch was so adamant about this. Hosea tries his best, but even he can’t keep everyone’s ducks in a row all the time, though how could anyone? John was trying to be better, which she’d give him credit for, but Arthur was just… being Arthur. The angry son of a bitch that wouldn’t let up on the “loyalty” trip, even for a moment. They all sure argued like family and if nothing else, it was like living in a goddamn zoo.

“I know you’re upset,” a voice said from behind her.

Dutch’s sudden presence was surprising but she didn’t care to turn to face him. “Call it off, Dutch.”

She heard him sigh and he took a seat next to her on the log. “You’ve been right more often than you’ve been wrong, Annie, I will admit that. All I’m asking is for you to outsmart ‘em. You’ve done it before, with less.”

“Dutch…”

He looked sad. Desperate, almost. She suddenly couldn’t bring herself to argue with him.

He peered at her with tired, soulful eyes, thinking for a moment before he spoke again. “I met this man, Andrew Crawford, a few months ago. He told me to contact him if we even ran into a situation where we needed the law off our backs. When things got bad out west, I told him we needed his help and we’d be out near Blackwater. So he wrote me and said he’d come, asking to send someone to meet him to discuss the details. And well, you know the rest. I just… want this to be our final ticket outta here. It’s all we got left to do!”

She nodded her understanding. He was doing what thought he needed to keep the gang safe. That, she understood. She just had her own version of it. Dutch wasn’t a bad man, she knew that much. But his judgement had been misguided recently. Hosea sometimes couldn’t even get through to him.

“What would they do clear our names?”

“From my understanding, whoever he works for is close with the Marshal Service. They have a few boys that they pay off to do their bidding.”

“Why’d you use a fake name, then?”

He shrugged. “I had suspicions about the legitimacy of his offer, same as you. That’s why I sent Arthur and you to go verify that he was who he said he was. I need you to understand, Annie, my girl. I’m not doin’ this for the money. This could be it for us! We’d be free! If it’s a setup, so be it. We got a whole lot to gain and next to nothin’ left to lose. You get me?”

We got our lives to lose, she wanted to say. She exhaled another long stream of smoke. “I get you, Dutch.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, clapping a hand on her back.

“Did somethin’ happen this morning? With Molly? I saw she’s not in camp.”

Dutch sighed. “She told me she wanted to ‘go off and enjoy herself’, whatever the hell that means. Think she went to the saloon to quench that Irish thirst of hers. Now, I mean no offense by this, but women can be… well, you know.”

Annie chuckled. “I do?”

“Let me just say- love is a bumpy road. But if ya don’t get on the wagon, you can’t get thrown off.”

“I don’t think I know what the hell you’re talkin’ about.”

He laughed and and patted her shoulder once more. “I pray you never do, my dear.”

He left her alone with her thoughts, and once again, she wasn’t sure what to think about anything.

#rdr 2 fic #rdr 2 fanfic #red dead redemption fic #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fanfic #rdr oc #my oc #my fics #annie bolton #for they shall be satisfied #ftsbs

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