#i always have to feel a twinge of shame while jamming to this because of a memory

[fearyandear]

*listening to Boy You Are So Kawaii by Neotokio3*

God I am so cringe, lol

[odelschwanky]

My Captain (Shunsui Kyoraku x OC Insert)

While I work on other stuff, here’s something I wrote back last year. My writing style is a lot better now, I promise.

Word Count: 3834

The wind was fierce in the Seireitei, my sleeves billowed violently. The beautiful sunset bled onto the cobbles of the walk, breathing life into the colorless walls around me. The sound of my sandals and the mellow clattering of my Zanpakuto was the only noise I created as I meandered along to my quarters. I had some briefing to do, but yet I was so tired. This was the fifth day with no sleep, the first two spent in the medical unit of Division 4. Since my last mission, I haven't been myself. I touched the bandages between my robes and my healing stomach. I was weak, and all I wanted to do was rest. 

The Research Institute was far from Division 8, and all this walking wasn’t ideal. I decided to take a shortcut through one of the courtyards. The peach blossoms were beautiful this time of year. They reminded me of where I used to live as a child.  Nobody ever came to appreciate them. I always hated that about this place, the Court Divisions. Hardly anyone seemed to appreciate anything. It was impossible for me not to. The blooms smelled so sweet, I could almost taste them on my tongue. One of the flowers floated down and I caught it in my palm. The delicate suede finish was so smooth on my fingers. I used to have these in my tea. 

“Hey.”

I jumped a little, turning my head toward the voice. “Don’t be scared.”

It was a strong voice: male, smooth, easy. I knew it very well.

“Captain.” I greeted him, regaining my composure.

“What are you doing out here?” He lay casually on a stone bench not too far away from me. His straw hat was over his face and it looked like he had been asleep, though he sounded like he had been awake a very long time. 

“With no disrespect, Captain, I could ask you the same thing.” It was pretty obvious though, what he was doing. It’s what he always did. To lounge around sleepily soaking up the good air and sun, occasionally stroll, those were his favorite pastimes. I’ve been part of his division for years and although most of the times we have spoken was for professional reasons only, there was a closeness between us that went undiscussed. It was something more than just a captain and his subordinate. I knew him so well, especially since it was part of my job. However, I really don’t know how much he knew me. We’ve never talked about it.

He chuckled a bit at my question, and I felt his soft smile, though I couldn’t see it. The wind tugged at both his kimono and his captain’s robe underneath. His chest was strong and sturdy, and the fine, dark hairs glinted in the waning sunlight. He sighed. “That’s fair. Are you in a hurry?” 

I shrugged. “Not particularly. I just have some briefing to do.” I really wanted to go, but this alone time with my Captain was very rare. I thought I might as well enjoy it, even if I’m tired. He relaxes me. 

“Then will you sit with me for a while?”

“Yes, Captain.”

There was no room on the bench, since he was laying on it, So I just sat cross legged in the grass beside it. It was silent for a while; I didn’t have it in me to talk.. I felt his breathing slow, as he presumably drifted back to sleep. I decided I should follow suit. The briefing could wait. This was nice.

My eyes slowly closed. My fatigue was getting the better of me. I hadn’t been this calm since my mission. Being near my Captain eased my nerves. Enough that I could sleep. 

***

 “Anane!” 

I turned around and looked at him. “What, Ichinose? What could you have to say?”

My friend had a strange expression on his face. His eyebrows furrowed together in pleading. I couldn’t see any life in his black eyes. His spiritual aura reeked of madness, despair and angst. Guilt was not one of the emotions. “You know why I can’t stay here!”

He seemed to be begging me for something. Understanding? I couldn’t. Forgiveness? Never. My blessing? Inconceivable. 

“I don’t care, Ichinose.” I said this turning away from him. I wiped my face with my sleeve, the tears streaking my uniform. My voice hardened. “Leave if that’s what you intend to do. I won’t stop you.” 

When Division 11’s captain was defeated and replaced by Kenpachi Zaraki, Ichinose fell apart. I had tried to be there for him, but he shut me out. Days had gone by without me seeing him. Then I overhear gossip between some unseated scum that he was to leave Seireitei, and the Soul Society… and me.

“Anane, please. Look at me.”

My spiritual pressure began to rise as I looked at him. I could hardly bear to do it. We were in a wooded area here in Seireitei, a place we used to frequent together to train. The large trees swayed erratically in the stormy wind.  The rain that had started to fall made Ichinose’s robe and hair stick to him. It made him look sick. 

“You promised me you would be by my side forever! That we would always be friends!” I yelled at him as he came closer to me. I thought my words would keep him back.  “Your Captain was beat fair and square, and you can’t seem to accept that!”

He issued a defensive response. “Zaraki has no honour! My captain did! How could I let this stand?”

I jammed my finger into his chest because we were close now. “You let it stand because that is required of your honour.” 

We stared at each other. “Ichinose. I can’t stand to look at you.” 

“Don’t call me that. You haven’t called me that in a long time, Anane.” 

I used his surname. He didn’t deserve me to call him anything else. He wasn’t Maki to me anymore. He was a stranger. 

 “We are Shinigami. We have a code, we have rules, we have our justice. If you cannot see that, maybe you shouldn’t be a Soul Reaper.”

An expression of hurt flashed across his face, enough to almost phase me. He didn’t understand. He didn’t understand how much he hurt me. I would never forgive him. 

“Goodbye.” 

I said this with finality. I could hear his cries, trying to get me to come back and talk to him. It was a waste. I had nothing else to say. I started back to my room, where I could let it all sink in. How my best friend chose his twisted sense of justice over me. 

His voice changed. It changed into something twisted and demonic. I turned around to see what used to be my friend, arms bent an ungodly way, neck almost broken. His eyes were black gaps, without content. His teeth became sharp blades. Ichinose was no more. 

The creature bounded forward, lodging its arm into my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel any pain. All I felt was emptiness. 

***

I awoke with a retch. I sat gasping for air, hunched over, gripping my stomach in pain. Such a sudden movement sent twinges of sharp pain into my healing wound. I felt nauseous and my head began to pound. “Tch,” I let out a wince. 

“Anane. Are you all right?”

I forgot where I was. I turned toward my Captain who had sat up in concern. His hat had fallen to the ground and his kimono lay half on the bench, as it slid off his shoulders. This was the first time he had called me by my first name. It was unusual. 

“I’m fine.” I quickly say. I never show weakness. The last time I had was when Ichinose…

“You didn’t tell me you were hurt,” said Captain Kyoraku, peeling back some of my robe to reveal my bandages. He touched them with a strong, yet tentative hand. His fingers were gentle on me. A strong rouge flushed my face and neck at the contact. I pushed his hand away and covered myself again, trying to hide my embarrassment. In any other circumstance, this would have been highly inappropriate. But since we were alone… I guess it didn’t matter. 

“I said I was fine, Captain.” I came across rather hostile, which I hadn’t intended. I wanted to apologize, but decided not to say anything. 

“Is this from the mission?”

I nodded slowly. I didn’t want to tell him. I was injured by a Bount, and I didn’t want him to think I couldn’t handle my duties. I was 3rd seat, for God’s sake. I should be able to handle that.. 

“That’s why you haven’t briefed yet, isn’t it.”

“Yes. Captain. I-”

“Anane, it’s okay.”

 I stopped talking. He had grabbed my hand now, and held it in his large one. I choked. He must feel my spiritual pressure. He has to know how nervous I am. 

“I sent you because I knew you were the most capable in the Division. We don’t know that much about the Bounts, so it was dangerous. I knew that. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let you go.”

I scoffed. I dedicated my life to doing this job. To think he believed I couldn’t handle myself was insulting.

“Well I went. And I took care of what you needed, so there’s nothing else to consider. Me being hurt is nothing you should make concern about. You’re my Captain, not my caretaker.” Loyalty and duty was at the utmost importance to me. This was my job and I loved it. He didn’t need to babysit me. He helped me to my feet after he saw I had some difficulty. Still holding my hands, he stared down into my eyes and I could see my reflection in his. 

“Yes. I’m your Captain, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

A twinge of red crawled up Kyoraku’s neck, into his stubble. I pulled my hand away gently. I would expect this from him with Lieutenant Ise, because they have always seemed close. But to think he would say this to me…

“Don’t worry about the briefing. But I want to know what happened to you.”

I didn’t really want to talk about it. It wasn’t a good experience and it was frightening. Fear is something I do not embrace. I swallowed a feeling of shame and defeat.

“I will tell you another time, Captain. If that’s okay with you. I don’t feel well and it’s something  I’d rather not talk about…”

“Okay.” He said, placing his hand on my arm. “I’ll walk you to your quarters.”

Kyoraku grabbed his hat and Kimono, not putting them on and started with me toward where I stayed. We walked in silence. I staggered a little, the stitched hole in my stomach growing hot with pain. He let me lean on him a bit, his large form holding me up. He wrapped a hand around my hip to stabilize me. I was so thankful to him. 

“So am I the one who needs to say it?” 

I looked at him, confused. “Say what?”

He sighed and laughed. “You know… In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never loosened up.”

I shook my head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about Captain.”

“See, that right there. You’re almost as bad as Nanao.” 

My eyes caught fire as I glared at him. I didn’t want him to compare me to her. I’m sure her devotion to him was the same, but my feelings were so much more different. I was sure of that.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Mhm.”

“I was kidding.”

“No you weren’t.”

It was silent for a while longer. As we approached the barracks, more and more people could be seen walking about. A few people stared at the sight of Kyoraku’s arm around me, and it didn’t help that his bright pink kimono was the definition of subtle. “Captain, I should be able to walk on my own.” I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea.

“Are you sure, Anane?”

I hid my smile. I loved the way he said my name. “Yes, Captain.”

“Well alright. I'm letting you go now.”

His hold loosened on me and he let me stand on my own.

“Captain Kyoraku, sir.”

We both turn to see Matsumoto in her usual elegance. Her long strawberry blonde hair fell down her back in waves. Her mouth was twisted into a pout. She looked concerned. “My Captain was looking for you. He said he needed to talk to you about something.” She arrived at the perfect time. Instead of studying me and the Captain, most of everyone stood slack jawed, staring at Matsumoto like usual. She glanced between Kyoraku and me, but then dismissed any intrusive accusations. 

“Oh… Alright. I’ll be sure to go and see him. I just have something to do here. Thank you.”

With that, Matsumoto was dismissed and turned on her heel to go. I watched as a few men chased her, trying to talk to her, the others just patiently looking. 

“Captain, go. It’s probably important. I’m f-” 

“If I hear you say that you’re fine one more time, I might actually use my bankai on you.”

That was such an utterly poor joke, I laughed a little. I couldn’t help it. But I was curious, what could Captain Hitsugaya have to talk to my Captain about. I hope it wasn’t the Bounts. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.

“I won’t say that, then. But I am. You know I can take care of myself. You don’t have to stay with me any longer.”

Kyoraku put his hand behind his neck and gave me an exasperated sigh. He swung his hat in his hand and shook his head in dismay. “It’s almost like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

So… it was almost like he was trying to stay. 

We had arrived at my private quarters now, he was lingering right outside my door. 

“Well, technically I couldn’t. Since you’re my Captain. I just don’t want you to worry about me.”

He smiled and stared at me for a long time. I couldn’t help but blush in embarrassment. 

“Do you remember when I asked you to be part of Division 8?”

I do remember. It was probably the best day of my life.

***

The coursework at Shinō Academy was scheduled to be completed in 6 years, but I had finished in half that time. I wasn’t quite as talented or ingenious as a few captains who had graduated in two years or even one, but my dedication and relentless training to become a Shinigami still impressed the Captains of the Gotei 13. I graduated as an expert in Zanjutsu and Kido, and had even more promise in the likes of Hakuda, my preferred fighting style. I had applied to Division 11, since in my academy years I was recruited to go on missions with them to test the waters. I believed it would be the most difficult to get into, and fighting there would be the utmost privilege and an opportunity to demonstrate my skill. Not only that, but I wanted to be in the same division as Ichinose. While my application was being processed, I was approached by Captain Kyoraku at the training grounds of the academy where I spent my downtime. 

“Nakamura, is it?”

I sheathed my zanpakuto and stood at attention. The first sight of that bright pink kimono on that giant of a man was exhilarating. The way his robes shifted when he walked emitted such a regal air.  My heart slammed against the inside of my chest and my tongue turned to sandpaper. I was being approached by a Captain! This was the first time I was spoken to by one outside of my academy classes. 

“Yes sir. Anane Nakamura, sir.”

Captain Kyoraku looked at me closely, and squinted in puzzlement. “That’s an unusual name, especially for a girl.”

I nodded. It was typical. I was the fourth born child of my parents, and I was supposed to be a boy. I had disappointed them before I could even prove myself to them. My name was forever a reflection of that. 

“Are you training?” He casually asked me this, looking at my hands, gripped tightly still on the hilt of my sword. The sun made his skin shine, and his then shaven face glowed.

“Yes sir.”

Kyoraku took a few steps away from me to a grassy area under a tree. Sitting down cross legged  “Well don’t let me stop you. I didn't mean to interrupt. Go ahead.”

He spoke to me in such a familiar way, taking me by surprise. I had known he had a laid back personality, but to speak to a subordinate with such familiarity? Not to mention, how was I supposed to train with a Captain watching me? He must’ve seen me hesitate. 

“It’s alright. Just pretend like I’m not here. I won’t say a thing.”

I turned away, my back to the Captain and stared at my shadow on the ground in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I unsheath my sword. I completed the patterns, once, twice and over again. After I had done them all, I did them again. The day passed as the sun had come around to face me, it’s sinking, scarlet rays making the sweat on my face and arms glisten. My flushed cheeks shimmered in the light, the glistening hair from my twin braids plastering them. The fine hairs that fell out of my short twin braids clung to my cheeks, which were flushed with the effort. I stood, heaving ragged breaths. my breathing laboured and sharp. When I trained. I trained for hours with little rest. I was only ever finished when my body would be on the verge of collapse, never sooner. My hands always had callouses from gripping my sword for so long. My spiritual pressure had dropped to almost nothing. I had finished. 

When I turned to leave, I half expected Captain Kyoraku to not be there. Maybe he would’ve been bored watching me run myself into the ground, doing the same patterns over and over in the hot sun like that. He sat, not asleep, but attentively watching me as I put away my sword and put my socks and waraji back on. I always trained barefoot. 

Footsteps approached me slowly, and I was afraid to hear what the Captain had to say. I knew the vast extent of my abilities even then but I had always felt, for some reason, it was never enough. Like a beautiful girl who would be ashamed to show her face, I was insecure and lacked confidence. My insecurity was why I trained so much. I could never be good enough.

“Nakamura.”

“Yes sir?”

I scrambled off the ground and stood tall to face Kyoraku. I was nearly half his size. I was in the late stages of my adolescence, nearly finished blooming into a young woman. I wanted to impress him so much, along with the other captains. 

“I’ve sat here and have watched you train for hours. Your dedication is admirable. Your talent is even better.”

I beamed with pride, but held myself together. “Thank you sir.”

“I know you applied for Division 11.”

“I did, sir.”

“Well, I don’t want to discourage you...” He looked deeply into my eyes, and I noticed the slight wrinkles around his, even though he was very young. “But I feel like you wouldn’t fit in there. So. Will you be in Division 8?”

My eyes began to water immediately. I held my head up to face the Captain. Kyoraku-san had asked me personally to be a part of his Division. 

“Yes. I would be honoured.”

***

“Yes. What about it?”

He shook his head, smiling. A pleasing expression came to his tanned, handsome face. 

“I’m just thinking about how much you’ve grown since then. Looking at you now, you’ve really turned out to be one of the finest Shinigami I know..”

I looked at my Captain. To hear him say that meant the world to me. Those words alone were the reason I’ve trained countless hours to become a legendary warrior and servant of the Gotei 13. I have dedicated my life to Kyoraku, the very day I entered his division. I had fallen in love with protecting him, serving him, and being a part of him.  His words now were the embodiment of validation I have been looking for my whole life.  He really did see how much I cared. I looked up to Kyoraku, idolized him. Other Captains have called him a lazy, irresponsible, nonchalant, ladies’ man, dumping all of his work onto his Lieutenant. Sure he was a bit laid back and he did love to flirt, but knowing him for so long, I saw something different. I saw passion, vision and love from him. I knew he would always do the right thing. He wanted good for the world. I wanted to support him in any way I could. 

I wanted to cry. It was like that moment, years ago, I felt the exact same way. I don’t know if he knew. He made me so happy. He was the reason I was living. 

“You’re embarrassing me,” I say, keeping my cool composure and smirking just a little. I was excellent in holding back my feelings. 

He calmly reached out and placed his hand on the top of my head. He ruffled my hair a little, and pet me. 

 “Sorry. I couldn't help it… Get some rest, Anane.”

“Thank you, Captain… for everything.” I say this, appreciating his kind words of praise. He didn’t know how much they lifted my spirits. He slowly turned to go, not taking his eyes off of me for a little while. I finally relaxed when he turned the corner of the hall, letting my tears fall freely. I opened the door to my room and went to collapse onto my bed right away. My body felt so heavy and numb and my stomach throbbed in pain. My sleeve still smelled like Kyoraku. 

My Captain.

[border-spam]

- Mid COV - 

She could make out the muffled conversation through the pounding in her head just enough to know he was pissed, and the medic team were very worried. She couldn’t understand what they were discussing exactly, but the rapid muttering of what they were sharing with Troy as they surrounded his towering silhouette said enough.

The whole thing was stupid, she was fine. She’d been fine yesterday, she’d been fine 8 hours ago, and she was still fine now. Just tired… and maybe it was just a little hard to move.. or breath… but she was still fine, there wasn’t any need for any of this pointless babying. There were projects to run, engineers waiting for their next orders, she should be in the Mechanicum and not lazing around here on this clinic bed. She was fine.

The medics must have finished reporting to the fuzzy shape of Troy, because she heard him growl something distinctly threatening, followed by the obvious scurry of multiple people trying to leave a room all at once while pretending to be completely calm, probably jamming together in the doorway in their hurry.

She’d laugh if she could watch, but it was hard to see what was happening right now when everything was so… wiggly. Shame, she thought, futilely trying to blink the blur out of her eyes as the room swam around his approaching outline. As he got close enough to come into focus, her feverish brain managed to recognise how bad a sign it was to see him in public wearing his glasses and a dark tank top with baggy pants, instead of his costume.

Lowering to a crouch beside the bed, he hunkered down till they were almost at eye level, and she’d really rather he didn’t look at her that way. Grim. Angry. A little sad. Pity never suited Seifa, and helplessness straight up clashed with her.

“T-this is pointless..” she wheezed, throat burning. “I’m f-fine Troy, it’s a flu.. this is a waste of everyone’s time.”

“Yellow flu” he replied, emotionless in tone as his eyes moved down her shivering outline under the blanket, laying on her side as she faced him. “Yellow flu, you stupid, stubborn bitch.”

She felt a pulse of righteous anger at that and stirred to insult him straight back, but a wave of nausea decided to close her mouth instead. Grimacing against the churning pain in her stomach, she comforted herself that she’d slap him if she wasn’t so tired… and maybe if he didn’t sound so worried.

Sei coughed weakly, attempting to strike up the barter again. “It’s nothing serious enough for all this, people get flu every year, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” he countered, turning to squint at the bag of saline hanging next to the machinery at the side of her bed, wrinkling his nose at the steady drops of the drip counter. Her fevered mind logically concluded he was angry at med equipment. He’d always been an idiot, it was an inanimate object. She’d have to remember to tell him he was stupid later, when it was easier to think and she could move her arms again.

“For God’s sake” she groaned, wishing she could muster a little more intimidation in the voice she was trying to argue him down with, hard to fake confidence when your tongue refused to work right. “There’s too m-much that needs doing, Troy”. He ignored her, still quietly considering the line leading from the saline to the back of the open hand laying in front of her. “There’s that new shipment of titani-”

“Ersh and Kiera are on it” he cut her off, turning back to meet her eyes in calm challenge.

She felt like a scolded child, furious, even as the spike in her blood pressure made both the room spin around her and Troy suddenly blend into the cool shadows lurking behind his back. Time to pull her ace in the hole, desperate times called for desperate measures.

“T.. Tyreen. Tyreen wants.. that .. recall of the..”

“Seifa” he hushed, leaning forwards and resting his elbow on the edge of the bed as his mech arm trailed below it “… I’ll handle Tyreen”.

That, that shocked her. It dawned then that this was serious. That was very unexpected, she wasn’t sure what the next move was for once. He’d swept her legs out from under her, and she felt like she was stumbling forwards in the dark now. He wasn’t just talking shit or trying to argue with her out of stubbornness like usual, it wasn’t one of their stupid games… was it. This was real then, and the rising fear in her chest crushed it even tighter as she panicked, coughing hard against the pull in her lungs. He waited with her for it to pass, brushing sweaty hair out of her face as she heaved in air between shuddering hacks.

“Sei” he whispered when she was able to breathe again, watching her bruised eyelids flutter closed in exhaustion. “What do I do? You’re not meant to ever be sick, or hurt... I don’t know how to fix you…”

If she caught the crack in his voice, she didn’t show it, too lost in the fever and breathing heavily, hoping the deep lung-fulls of cool air would help quell the burning in her chest. “Tell me... about Nekrotafeyo..” she finally managed to rasp through what felt like layers of sand grinding in her throat.

Too worn out to open her eyes, she didn’t get to see how his face lit up or how the worry lines melted away at that request, but she did get to feel the bed shift a moment later as he carefully climbed onto it to sit next to her, and the sudden burst of embarrassment that jolted through her confused brain as the cold steel of his mech arm slipped under the sheet and lay flat against the sticky skin of her burning hot back and side.

A twinge of surviving logic reminded her he couldn’t feel anything he was touching, that there was no reason to be embarrassed by the gesture regardless of if she was pretty sure she was currently naked, and she should focus on the pleasant chill instead. On how much of the biting heat running through her bones was extinguished by the metal he was pressing along the length of her aching body.  A crooked smile played across her chapped lips as the prosthetic’s blessedly cool fingers curved across her bare hip under the thin covers, and he rumbled a quiet laugh at the relief on her face. “Is that better then?”

”… yeah..“ she whispered gratefully, pressing her forehead against the side of his thigh. He smelled like dirt and sandalwood, fresh sweat and gun oil. She could sleep here, she reassured herself. It was fine. It was safe to let herself be weak, just for a little while. No one else would know.

"Well..” he sighed, resting his head against the wall behind the bed as he removed his glasses, folding them in his lap.

“The first thing you gotta understand about Nekrotafeyo, is it was very, very boring…”

[teamfreehoodies]

Soft- Geraskefer Week

Title:  if we’ll never be more than this (let me know so i can let it be) Day/Prompt: Day 3: Soft Source Material: Netflix Word Count: 2,014 (2k) Warnings: Angst!! Anxiety Attack Summary:  A continuation of my entry for pining, but make it worse before it gets better. Jask has an anxiety attack and then Geralt and Yenn make it better.

He has to laugh, he thinks, wiping his tears from his face, because this is just like him isn’t it, to be so distraught after what was by all accounts a wildly pleasurable evening. Only he could turn something so good, so bad with just a few seconds of thinking too hard. He tosses the rag aside, slightly grossed out now to still be holding it, and then slips his clothes back on, quietly, because if he’s going to break down and have a proper cry about his traitorous broken heart he’s certainly not going to do it naked. He’s short of breath and there’s a horrid keening wail trapped in his throat and he’s a fucking actual functioning adult he should not be going into a fit of histrionics because— because what? Because he’s unloveable? Because he’s mortal and pathetic and small and fucking stupid and he should have known better, because Geralt hadn’t even wanted him as a traveling companion and because Yennefer hadn’t ever even tried to hide how little she thought of him. The world is blurry through his tears and he only just makes it to the door before the first sob bursts free and he’s not as quiet as he should be when he leaves, but he just hopes it was silent enough to offer him a clean break. By the time he descends the stairs he’s running because he can’t be here. This is embarrassing, is so far beyond embarrassing that’s he’s come out the other side and he wants to die with the shame of it all.

(This is not the first of these attacks, where a wild sadness comes up and steals his reason, makes him weak and pathetic and useless, unable to be calmed down— but it’s the first in a while, in such a long time he’s forgotten how bad they could be and he hates it because he knows, very distantly in the part of his brain that isn’t functioning right now, that he’s overreacting. He knows that these thoughts aren’t true, but they feel real and he can do little else but ride it out until it’s gone and hope no one finds him in the meantime.)

He stumbles into the stables, wanting to be alone but also desperate for a corner to put his back against: it’s early enough in the pre-dawn hours now that the stable hands are all gone, so it’s just him and the horses. He fumbles with the latch for Roach’s stall door, still keening noiselessly because he doesn’t actually have enough air to make any sound at all right now and because it’s early and he doesn’t want to wake anyone and because he needs to hide until this passes, and his hands are shaking too much to get the metal bolt to slide out, and what the fuck kind of door is this anyways it’s not like a stall door needs a complicated bolt mechanism it’s just keeping fucking horses in place it’s not protecting anything fucking important— he kicks the door, utterly suddenly furious and then he punches it too, just once rabbit quick with clenched fists and Roach screams, startled and scared of him and gods he’s ruining everything.

He can’t be here— he shouldn’t be here, “I’m sorry, Roach” he means to whisper but it’s a garbled mess around the sobbing breaths his body is shaking apart around and then, because the universe hates him and exists to laugh at his pain, he runs face first into Geralt as he’s trying to leave. 

He’d been so quiet, and then he’d ruined it, scaring Roach and of course Geralt was here to check on her, because he loved Roach and he loved Yennefer and he hated Jaskier, could barely tolerate him, just let him follow him around because it was easier and he was too nice to tell him off. Geralt was sleep-rumpled still, and he’d pulled on trousers but no shirt, just his stupid witcher’s medallion sitting again this bare chest (the bare chest that Jaskier has just bounced off of, and that he’d spent several long glorious minutes exploring with his tongue last night) and his misery is renewed again as Geralt rubs one hand across his eyes and then notices Jaskier finally.

“Jask?” He asks, and Jaskier has one shining moment of hope where he thinks maybe Geralt hasn’t noticed and then Geralt has both hands on his shoulders and is trying to meet his eyes even as Jaskier looks away. “Jaskier, what’s wrong.”  He shakes his head, pushing his lips together to try and hold back everything. He can’t speak can’t admit to the truth of how fucking stupid he is, and now that he’s been found he feels even stupider, that he couldn’t just— hold it in long enough to hide it. He shakes his head, and then keeps shaking it, even as Geralt pulls him into his chest. He’s warm and broad and Jaskier doesn’t deserve this, but he needs it too so he lets himself fall apart in Geralt’s arms. It’s not like Geralt can think any less of him, he thinks slightly hysterically. 

He starts laughing, and then he can’t stop, a series of hiccoughing sobs the Geralt just shushes him through. “Jask, what’s wrong?” Geralt asks again, and the ‘nothing’ gets trapped in his throat so he’s so glad when Geralt just pushes his face into his shoulder and then picks him up. Geralt is taking him back to the inn, back to Yennefer and he can think of few things more immediately humiliating than letting Yennefer see him like this, so he tries to synch his breathing to Geralt’s. One of the better effects of being a witcher is that Geralt’s breathing is steady as a metronome, and Jaskier has used it to keep time while practicing out in the woods more than once. 

He hides his head in Geralt’s shoulder as they enter the room again, and he’s stopped crying, has calmed down from the worst of it just through proximity, (because Geralt makes him feel safe, like nothing else does, and if he can’t feel cherished at least he can feel that). He thinks, inanely, that if he just... keeps hiding he can survive this with some measure of dignity intact. Maybe Yennefer is still asleep, and Geralt will lie down between them and he can just... pretend this didn’t happen in the morning. He holds onto that thought all the way up until Geralt actually sets him down on the bed, and then Yennefer is suddenly all over him. She rolls him over so he’s on his stomach, and he’s half afraid of what she’s going to do, but all she does is climb on top of him so her weight is distributed across as much of him as possible. She’s smaller, but there’s still a whole human laying across his back and her breasts leave a soft cushion across his shoulders, her knees just pressing this side of uncomfortable into the back of his thighs. She’s still mostly naked, but he can feel that she’s wearing Geralt’s shirt, the extra fabric wrinkling oddly against his back. He shoves his head into the mattress, but then one of Yennefer’s hands is gliding through his hair, petting against the grain, and he shivers with the pleasure of her touch. Geralt sits next to them, and he’s... there’s no word for what he’s doing except petting, rubbing his rough hands up and down Jaskier’s shins, pressing in just enough to smooth the tension out of his muscles. 

He’s melting under their ministrations, and he’s half-asleep when Yennefer drops a kiss against his cheek. “What’s wrong, bardling?” she whispers and its not even really a pet name, but it’s the softest she’s ever been with him, and he shudders roughly, pushing through the instant flush of embarrassment because he thinks he owes them some explanation doesn’t he. “I-” he cuts himself off, because how does he put this into words that don’t make him sound ungrateful? “I just.. got scared.” he says, half a whisper because he can’t say it any louder. 

“Oh, it’s okay, little bardling,” Yennefer croons in his ear, and it should be humiliating to have her call him small, to be using such a voice, yet it does nothing but soothe him further, her weight across his back, the soft petting from both her and Geralt, the silent steadiness of Geralt sitting next to them. Geralt stretches out to lie with them, and he reaches out one hand to tap gently at Jaskier’s cheek until he opens his eyes enough to meet his golden gaze. 

“What were you scared of?” he asks, and god what a gut-punch of a question that he is. They’ve trapped him in their embrace and he won’t be able to wriggle out without answering. He can’t deflect here, and he thinks, perhaps uncharitably, that this has Yennefer written all over it. 

“I didn’t--” he can’t say, physically can’t make the words leave his mouth, but Yennefer must be using magic to read what he means to say anyways because she tuts, lowly, and then kisses the back of his neck, nuzzling into his nape. He gasps with the sudden pleasure, and then Geralt leans forward to steal a kiss from his lips (and the angle is weird and it should be uncomfortable for both of them but it’s so godsdmaned good because its them, because its always good between them). Yennefer and Geralt pull back at the same time, and then Yennefer has his chin in one hand and she too drops a kiss against his mouth, (this angle is even more awkward, but the slight twinge in his neck is worth it for how fucking sweet she tastes, like gooseberry jam and burnt sugar and just that hint of Chaos, swirling around everything she does. 

“I love you,” she says, when she pulls back, and he blinks, absolutely stunned by the bareness of it. She’s not holding anything back and he wants to revel in the feeling of it, but its so sudden he-- “Hey,” she says, cutting off his thoughts. “Don’t do that. I love you, and if you think you’ve been hiding how much you love us, you clearly don’t listen to your songs.” she smirks at him as he gapes at her because what a bald-faced insult, doesn’t listen to his own songs, what a load of cock, he knows exactly how obvious he’s been in his lyrics, he just rather hadn’t thought they were listening close enough to know. Geralt laughs, a rough sound that sends a low thrum of arousal straight to the base of him, and then he presses a gentle kiss to Jaskier’s temple and oh gods that’ so gentle he’s so gentle with him and Jaskier wants to cry all over again, but this time from happiness. 

“I love you too, Jask,” he whispers and then, smirking, because he is above all else a right fucking bastard, he reaches around Yennefer to slap Jaskier’s ass. “Go the fuck to sleep now, I’m tired.”Jaskier gasps, scandalized, but then Yennefer is sliding off him laughing also, and she crowds up against his back, pushing him into Geralt’s arms.

“Cuddle your witcher, bard. You made him all sad earlier when you left. You’ve gotta fix him now.” Yennefer says, pushing him with both arms into Geralt’s embrace. Geralt nods, very seriously, and Jaskier goes easily enough, laughing the whole time. 

“Oh what a burden I bear,” he says, letting both of them wind their limbs around him. “Do you feel cured, witcher?” he asks, smiling against Geralt’s collar bone. 

“With you two in my bed?” Geralt rumbles, releasing one hand from Jaskier’s waist to wind his fingers together with Yennefer’s. Their joined hands pull tight against Jaskier’s hip and he feels held by both of them, cocooned between their bodies and safe and welcome the way he’s always craved. “How could I ever be anything else?”

____

@geraskeferweek

[chimmy-joos]

The Proposal part 5 |M|

Description: You’re tired of being alone for years without a boyfriend so you propose a deal to Jimin. Little did you know your little affair will unfold to be more than secret kisses at night.

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 12.2K

Tags: angst, smut, fluff, swearing, slight sub!Jimin, masturbation, slight cum play, oral sex

Part 1 2 3 4

A/N: for starters, I apologize for the long wait. I had a hard time planning this chapter out and put myself in a rut because of it. Word of advice, don’t think about it too much. Just write. I know a lot of you have been asking about this update and I regret how long it took, but in any case, I hope you enjoy this chapter and im sorry please don’t kill me

Three Months. It had been three whole months since the last time Jimin had spoken to you.

To be more exact, it had been two months and twenty seven days, but Jimin didn’t count the days where you walked into class during the middle of a lecture because you didn't look at him—not even bothering to acknowledge his existence. To a degree, Jimin respected the way you exhibited pride. So much so that he might call himself a masochist for wishing you would glance at him just once, even if it was a glare. At least you still knew he existed. Other than that, there was absolutely no contact. He wondered if you blocked him, or worse, deleted his number. The last thing you had said to him was, 'let's end this' and to top it off, it wasn't even in person. Jimin reread his messages with you over and over again as his mind thought of millions of ways to once again say hello.

Jimin knew he was at fault, but he couldn't muster up the courage to apologize because… What would you say? You were too strong and independent of a woman to give into his apology so easily, but at the same time you were so sweet and merciful, it gave Jimin all the more hope to believe that you would forgive him.

It was a shameful thing for Jimin to admit that he spent the beginning of summer vacation moping around his apartment when he should be out enjoying the little window of freedom he had, but his motivation to do anything was at a new low. He didn't know how to feel, frankly. It was the first time Jimin had ever felt this way towards a girl, dealing with these foreign heart twinges and clammy hands like a middle schooler trying to whoo his crush.

It had only been three months, but there wasn't a day Jimin didn't think of you.

—

“Jimin, you have to stop this.” Taehyung snapped at Jimin as he stood wit his hands crossed over his chest. Taehyung was blocking Jimin’s view of late night re-runs of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and he wasn’t very appreciative of the new view in front of him: Taehyung’s light blue striped boxers. Well, in all fairness, Jimin had no right to complain when he too was wearing bright red Calvin Klein briefs. When three college boys live in a small apartment with no women coming in or out of here, there really isn’t a reason to dress to impress anyone.

“Get your dick out of my face.” Jimin glared menacingly at his best friend. Taehyung stood his ground and even had the audacity to stick his hips out.

“Not until you get off of this couch. If you sit here any longer, your ass will get flat and nobody will want to take you on a date.” Taehyung snickered. Jimin knew he was simply trying to get under his skin and he wasn’t going to allow it. He stood up and shoved Taehyung in the chest with his arm with enough force for him to lean back. Jimin glared him from the same eye-level now.

“Don’t spite me, Tae. I’m not in the mood.” He snarled. Taehyung, with a smile on his lips, gently lowered Jimin’s arm and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I don’t mean any harm, brother,” he said. Jimin scoffed and whipped around. He turned off the t.v. and retreated to his room, Taehyung trudging shortly behind, still casually shirtless with his hands shoved in his boxers. (At the sides, of course.) Jimin fell onto his desk chair and let it swirl him around while Taehyung jumped on his bed, messing up the blankets more than it already was. “You need to stop this, dude.”

“I literally haven’t done anything, what are you talking about?” Jimin threw his hands up in distress.

“That’s exactly it!” Taehyung straightened his back and clasped his hands together, as if he was about to drop some real shit. “You’ve been dragging your depressed ass around this apartment and it feels like someone died in here every time I come home! What you need to do is get out of this house—maybe go on a drive or go to the gym.”

“Which I do very often,” Jimin intervened, pointing to his car keys on top of his desk. Jimin stretched his arm out and gestured at his muscular bicep. “Just because I sit at home more often now doesn’t mean that I’m neglecting other shit. At least I’m still paying rent.”

“Jimin, as your roommate, I couldn’t care less about what you do as long as you’re contributing, but as your best friend, I can’t stand seeing you like this. You can’t forget who you are just because of some girl.”

Again, Jimin glared. “She’s not just some girl.”

“Oh really? Then why haven’t I seem her in last three months?” Taehyung raised a brow and that immediately shut Jimin up. "I've known you since high school and I know how you are with girls that you like. You always find a way to fuck shit up with them."

Jimin couldn't even begin to argue because if anyone could prove him wrong, it was Taehyung, the one man who actually knew Jimin. Feeling content with Jimin's silence, Taehyung continued.

"Remember what happened with Soo Rin?"

Jimin rolled his eyes and groaned; his neck rolled around. "Soo Rin was talking to like, 50 guys at once."

"True, but that's not my point. My point is how you stopped talking to her because your pathetic ass felt too insecure about her not liking you and what happened afterwards? You found out that she was waiting for you to ask her out."

"And then I found out that she was talking to 50 guys."

"Yeah, but would Y/N really do that?" Again, Jimin kept silent and Taehyung knew he was right. Then, he straightened up abruptly.

"Okay fine, lets say I make up with Y/N. Then what? Things won't be the same." Jimin shook his head, remembering his own faulty actions. Taehyung shrugged at him, lips stretched into a linear smile.

“You start over. Make things right with her, actually create a connection with her. You know, friends without benefits.” Taehyung suggested. Little did he know that that common ground had already been established by long phone calls that lasted throughout the night where you spilled more than what you should’ve. Jimin didn’t mind in the slightest. He was more or less thankful that you were such an open book. It saved him the effort and hardship of breaking down your trust walls.

Jimin tilted his head, looking at Taehyung with big, beady eyes. “Do you really think that’s going to work?” He asked with a sliver of hope in his voice.

Taehyung shrugged his broad shoulders. “It’s better than sitting on your ass all day blasting old school R&B slow jams, don’t you think?” He suggested and he crossed his legs. “Can I ask you a serious question?”

Jimin didn’t answer, but instead wrinkled his brows in a skeptical way, as if to say, what are you up to this time?

“Do you love her?” Taehyung asked. The word love sounded so childish and foreign to him, but then again it was Jimin who couldn’t comprehend the concept of love. He had never felt this way about anybody before and it threw him in for a loop. He sighed deeply, and rubbed his face with his hands and raked them through his hair.

“I don’t know anything about love, dude.” Jimin laughed at himself and shook his head in disbelief.

“No ones an expert. I say, take my advice because she’s a really great girl. Like—a thousand times better than any other girls you’ve dated.”

Jimin scoffed. “Yeah, I know.”

Of course he knew. He knew more than anyone about how you can completely change the room’s atmosphere with a single jingle of your laughter. He hasn’t met a single person—a single soul in the world much like yours. You see the world differently, but you’re so accepting of everything. You’re truly a saint and Jimin can’t help but feel his encounter with you was a trial to test his capabilities to cherish someone. And he even managed to fuck that up. Then again, these infatuated thoughts of you that muddled his brain were only affecting him. He knew neither Taehyung nor Jungkook—not a single person could possibly understand what he was going through and how much Jimin wanted to rip out his own heart and toss it into the trash, promptly setting it on fire so he would never have to go through this pain ever again.

But the pain Jimin felt in his chest every morning when he woke up, weighing his body down like a dark energy clung to him, whispering everyday into his ear—tormenting him. He was a sorry excuse for a man who couldn’t even come to terms with his own feelings.

Taehyung noticed Jimin turn stiflingly silent. He had never seen Jimin like this and it pained him to watch his best friend look so... depressed. He was never like this, but then again, Jimin had also never been in love with someone. Well, Jimin argued over whether or not he was in love, but Taehyung was perceptive enough to notice the change in Jimin’s spirit. It was as if he was an entirely new person from high school and even his early years in college. He was bubblier, smiled more and although Jimin was rarely home nowadays, Taehyung had a hunch that he was spending his time valuably.

Taehyung clapped his hands loudly, jolting Jimin out of his silence. “Alright! I have a surprise for you, brother! Tonight, I am taking you to a party. Nothing too serious, it’ll just be our close friends.” He proposed, grinning enthusiastically. Jimin quirked his rectangular eyes as a series of emotions passed through him.

“Tae... I don’t know if I’m ready to do something like that yet.” He replied honestly; Jimin’s voice was soft and quivered on edge. His hands were sewed tightly together and he was bent over, elbows resting on his exposed thighs.

“It’s just a suggestion. I won’t force you or anything, but I’m inviting you as your best friend. I can’t stand seeing you like this anymore,” Taehyung said sincerely. Jimin stole a glance at him as he stood from the bed and headed to the door. Taehyung stopped in the middle of the doorway, grasping the wooden frame and craned his neck back. “Feel better, okay?” He reassured and softly clicked the door shut behind him.

-

Later that night, Taehyung texted Jimin the address of the party with an attached message that wrote, “just in case you’re feeling up to it”. He was so grateful to have someone like Taehyung in his life and he knew for a fact that he wasn’t deserving of someone as caring as him. Taehyung put in so much effort to pull Jimin off his ass and here he still sat the morning of the party with dark bags that hung from his droopy eyes and greasy, messy hair. God, he was a hot mess.

“Aren’t you coming with?” Jungkook asked as he pushed open the door to Jimin’s room. He was dressed up in a black v-neck with an equally dark jacket thrown over and green, army pants. Jungkook was running his fingers through his permed hair to style it.

Jimin on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged in his swivel chair with headphones around his neck and was playing The Weeknd’s Wasted Times on full volume. At this point, it might’ve jumped up to his most played song. Jimin lowered the volume to hear Jungkook better.

“If you get ready now, you can still make it to the pre-game.” The younger boy taunted as he straightens his collar. Taehyung had left earlier in order to help prepare for the party considering he was on alcohol duty. Jimin’s lips formed a straight line. First it was Taehyung, now Jungkook needed to stick his nose into his business? How low had Jimin sunken?

“Be honest with me, Jungkook. Do you think it’s best for me to be going to a party right now?” He gestured to his face and down to his disorderly attire.

“Yes,” Jungkook replied bluntly. “I’m not like Taehyung either. I’m not going to baby you and let you do as you wish forever.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin sharpened his tone.

“You let an amazing woman slip through your fingers and now you’re facing the consequences—which you should be. You’ve respectfully atoned for your mistakes, but it’s time to turn yourself around. I know Y/N would hate seeing you like this.”

“Which is exactly why I have been avoiding her at all costs.”

“Is it? Or is it the other way around?” Jungkook snapped back. Jimin didn’t respond. “Either way, I can’t bear seeing you like this. Come out for a drive sometime.” Jungkook said and closed the door behind him. Jimin waited until he heard the front door open and shut, meaning that Jungkook had left.

Both Taehyung and Jungkook were right. Everything they said, be it comforting or not, was just to encourage Jimin to look past his faults, his insecurities, and that damned possessive mindset that was the quintessential factor towards his downfall. He knew he had to change, but was he capable of doing so? Was he able to pull himself out of this dark, negative pit that prevented him from seeing the light of a future that in his ideal world, promised you?

It was an entirely new experience for Jimin to be standing in front of the bathroom mirror, smoothing down his navy green long sleeve repetitively. It was as if his thin silver chain was never centered correctly and there was always a strand of hair that was out of place. Had he always been this nit-picky about his appearance?

Nonetheless, he had put in this much effort to look like this and he wasn’t the type of man to give up halfway. He had to go to to this party now. Jimin told himself that if the party was anything near terrible, he’d find the closest exit and leave while snatching a bottle of alcohol to drink in the security of his room walls. He also decided to take an Uber because he had no idea how much he would be drinking tonight. Jimin could feel his anxiety rise in his stomach as he approached the house. He had never been in this neighborhood before, but he could tell he was near because the cars along the sidewalk were increasing. He took a deep breath as the driver pulled to a halt.

“Alright man, this is it,” the driver said and gave Jimin a concerned look. “You good, man?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Thanks.” He replied back hastily and got out of the car. Once the Uber car drove off, Jimin was left to his own devices. He walked towards the house with heavy steps and it felt like eternity before Jimin reached the front door; he simply stared at the doorknob. Why was he so nervous? This might’ve been the hundredth party he’s attended so it shouldn’t even be a big deal. Were you feeling these nerves every time Jimin asked you to come to a party? And how you were always reluctant to go? God, it was like he was being reminded of how big of a dick he was every single day.

Jimin bundled up his nerves and pushed his way through the door; loud hip-hop music vibrated through Jimin’s skull. He scanned the foyer of the house and took in his new surroundings. The interior was definitely fancier than he had expected.

“Just our close friends, my ass...” Jimin muttered under his breath. Perhaps he had been too nervous to notice the posh neighborhood he had entered. Redwood laminated floors were laid all throughout the house and pristine white walls reached to the high ceiling. It was a bit overwhelming so Jimin maneuvered through the clusters of people to find a beer or some Hennessy. Anything would suffice.

Jimin stumbled into the kitchen area and managed to find a cold beer in the fridge. He cracked it open and gulped the bittersweet nectar until it was half empty. The taste lingered on his tongue and he smacked his lips. It was like being reminded of his partying days. Jimin roamed the house idly with a drink in his hand to keep himself occupied. He searched for Jungkook or Taehyung since they were not there to greet him at the door which meant they were deeper inside the house possibly already drunk off their asses. Jimin turned the corner and entered the living room, fashionably furnished with black leather couches and even a fireplace topped with family photos framed in elegant frames. Luckily, he saw Jungkook sitting in the center of one couch; Jimin perked up brightly.

“Jungko—“ he called out and stopped himself short, his voice caught in the middle of his throat. Sitting on the end of the couch rolling a glass of wine in her hand was you. Your hair was braided and there was a small, flowery pin tucked behind your ear. You wore a tight, black dress with gold accents along the waist and thin straps that rest over your small shoulders. You wore a long gold necklace with a small charm at the end that dipped into the crevice of your breasts. Your smooth legs were pointed downward as you sat on the edge of the couch; red bottom heels shaped your feet and added a sexy flare to your outfit. Jimin stood frozen in place—his eyes wider than they’ve ever been as the room slowed down. You were the center of his attention and suddenly, it felt at that moment, Jimin wasn’t surrounded by swarms of people. At that moment, it was like the first time he had ever laid eyes on you and fell in love all over again. You were so close—literally just a few feet away from him, yet it felt like you were worlds away.

Your bright laughter yanked Jimin from his thoughts and he frantically retreated behind a small group of people and then slowly hid behind a wall. Why he was hiding was entirely unknown to him. It wasn’t like this was your party or he was avoiding you. He simply thought… it would be best if you didn’t see him in his lowest state. But as Jimin closed his eyes, he could still very vividly make out the curvatures of your dress and your exposed collarbone, the light but beautiful makeup that matched so elegantly with your dress—

Jimin’s jaw slacked and he looked down at his crotch; his cock was semi-hard in his jeans and he could just make out the outline of his erection. Jimin’s hand flew to pull his shirt down and cover his erection and looked around for the nearest vacant bathroom. Unfortunately, the first floor of the house was so cluttered with people, Jimin fled upstairs in hopes of finding a bathroom up there. He climbed the stairs with long strides, shouldering through the people blocking the top of the stairs. Jimin saw a door that was slightly ajar and he ran for it, slamming the door open. There was a couple inside; the girl was perched on the counter while the man stood between her legs with his arms wrapped around her waist as they kissed. When Jimin entered, the two pulled away in shock.

“Get out.” He huffed with a crazed look in his eye. The couple was reluctant at first and gave each other a strange look. “Now.” He growled and the two then hurriedly gathered themselves and fled the bathroom which Jimin locked on their way out. He fell back against the door and rest his head against the wood while raising his shirt with trembling hands. He peered down at his erection that wasn’t going away. Jimin cursed under his breath and breathed heavily. He couldn’t walk out there with his dick half hard in his jeans, but there was no other way of getting rid of it besides taking a cold shower, which was entirely out of the question.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck me.” Jimin cursed at himself and gnawed on his lower lip as he daintily traced the outline of his cock through his jeans with the pads of his fingers. His breathe hitched as he moved his way to the tip, swirling small circles around it. Jimin suppressed a moan in his throat and allowed his eyes to close. He imagined you in your black dress again and how your ass looked in that tight, black satin. In his formulated fantasy, you were slowly sliding the dress up your thighs until he saw a black thong—god, your ass looked so plump he wanted to caress it and pinch it.

Jimin unbuttoned his jeans with nimble fingers and reached into his underwear to cup his balls that had made his underwear hot and sweaty. He fondled them in his hands before sliding his hand along his hard shaft, slowly tracing out the veins. Jimin pinched the swollen head of his cock and whimpered, lurching forward from the sudden pleasure that jolted through him. He inhaled deeply and took his cock from out of his underwear; a thin string of precum had dampened a spot in his clothes. He swiped his thumb through it and smeared the liquid over the red tip.

Jimin bit down hard on his lip to keep from making any noises as he started to massage his cock slowly with just the pressure of his fingers. He pulled the skin around his cock down to the base before sliding back up to the tip. The slow movements were just enough to pump more blood into his cock, but Jimin loved the teasing pleasure he was giving himself.

“A-Ahh… Y/N…” he moaned your name in a raspy voice; one hand slipping under his shirt to touch his abdomen. He started moving faster and wrapped his entire hand around his cock to give it more elongated motions. Jimin hissed when he enveloped the reddened head and pulled downward. His hips would jerk forward every time he reached the base and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting his hips into his own hand. His moans were harder to silence and came out as broken grunts of pleasure.

He nestled his head against the door and he could feel the back of his hair get tangled from the friction. He had spent so much time styling it to perfection and now he couldn’t care less as he was preoccupied stroking his dick in one hand while the other grazed the skin of his stomach. He recalled the night he last was able to see you, to caress your moonlit skin. It had been so long, but he could still remember the allure of your honey voice and how you beckoned for him. He remembered tracing his gentle hand over the blades of your shoulder and down the valley of your back; your gorgeous, plump breasts that he grasped in his hands while rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Jimin slid his fingers down his bare naval to cup his scrotum, giving his balls a firm squeeze. An involuntary loud grunt broke though his lips and he started stroking his cock in a faster pace; the prominent squelching sounds caused by his energetic movements filled Jimin’s head, evoking more memories of his after-dusk affairs that he shared with you. He imagined sliding his length over your tight, wet slit while staring into your starry eyes. Your lips—he couldn’t believe such a beautiful smile could utter such sinful words and oh, how he loved kissing them. He loved holding your face in his hand, brushing your hair behind your ears while your nose squished against his by how passionate you would get.

He wrapped his slippery hand around the end of his penis and snapped his hips wildly while gripping the base of his shaft. He pierced the skin of his bottom lip from his teeth but Jimin, in that moment of ecstasy, didn’t feel any pain. Only the blinding white pleasure that flashed behind his eyes. He called out your name once more in a trembling, needy breath before spurts of white, hot cum unleashed from his urethra. Jimin cupped his hand over the tip, but his energetic cum flew past his open fingers. His chest heaved and his whole body twitched from the aftermath, but he didn’t dare open his mouth to release the moans of pleasure.

Jimin slowly blinked his eyes open and adjusted to the light of the bathroom from the darkness behind his eyelids that he were squeezing so tightly shut. He glanced down at the mess he made—milky spunk coated his palms, darkened his jeans and he even managed to get it on the tiled bathroom floor.

“Shit!” He spat and pulled his drawers up with his clean hand before grabbing sheets of toilet paper and wiped his cum shamefully. After flushing the remnants in the toilet, Jimin washed his hands once, maybe three times simply because of the guilt that settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He had never, not once been able to cum by just thinking about someone. Masturbating to visual stimulation was easy and sure, everyone watched porn, but to be able to get hard by seeing you in a dress and cumming by fantasizing about holding you again was different. He felt wrong, despite how good it felt. Jimin splashed freezing cold water on his face to cleanse him of the sinful feeling and scrubbed the tiled floor so hard he got a cramp in his hand.

He left the bathroom with his head hung low so he wouldn’t be noticed and fled downstairs. He didn’t want to stay any longer because Jimin was sure his face was beet red. However, as soon as he reached the bottom of the staircase, he bumped into someone. He stumbled forward and muttered a “my bad” over his shoulder, but barely stayed to sincerely apologize. He set his eyes on the door and his feet led him outside.

-

[Reader’s POV]

You stood on the tips of your heels to look over the crowds’ head, eyes darting around frantically. You were shoved by the people around you because of your small stature, but you still hunted for that familiar head of jet black hair. Could it be him? Could it be the man that appeared in your thoughts like a runaway dream? Or perhaps you were just chasing the ghost of a man that you used to know.

Eventually, you gave up on trying to find Jimin as you lost track of all the black hair in the mass of people. You were sure—almost positive that it was Jimin. There was no mistaking the familiar tone. You listened to his velvety voice nearly everyday and you could pick him out blindfolded by his breathing.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration, but there was no mistaking what you heard. You didn’t have much confidence despite the beautiful dress that you humbly modeled tonight, but you were confident that the voice belonged to Jimin.

You found your way back to the living room where a group of your friends were in the middle of a game of Mafia. You had already been killed off as a civilian so you went to refill your glass of wine. You rest your bum on the arm of the couch and sipped your drink while you waited for the game to finish. Jungkook, who had also been killed off in the beginning of the game because he was “too suspicious” (he was innocent by the way), slid into the seat next to you and looked up at you with beady eyes.

“How are you enjoying your night, Miss?” He asked. You gave a curt nod and sloshed your wine around in your glass.

“The night is still young and this is my fourth glass of wine, I’d say it’s going pretty well.” You replied. Jungkook laughed and rest his arm on your thigh. His large hand cupped your kneecap and he squeezed. Your eyes darted to his subtle hand that he laid on you.

“Then won’t you come home with me afterwards?” He said in a sultry voice. You tried not to visibly cringe at his words. Jungkook had been hitting on you on and off ever since you stopped talking to Jimin and you hated the fact that he was so quick to jump in front of the line. Jungkook was hot and you knew you should feel lucky that he was trying to impress you so hard, but you didn’t feel a single ounce of attraction towards Jungkook. And you weren’t petty enough to sleep with Jungkook to get revenge on Jimin. You couldn’t imagine going back into the same apartment where everything started.

You brushed his hand off and strained a soft smile. “I’m sorry, Jungkook, but you know I can’t do that.”

He pouted and if he had puppy dog ears, they would be wilted. “So it can’t be me? No matter how hard I try?”

“I’d be lying if I said I never gave it a thought, but I don’t think I’ll be looking for a relationship anytime soon.”

“Or at least, not with me, right?” He asked and you gave Jungkook a puzzled look. “Is it because of Jimin?”

You glared at the younger man. “Me being single has absolutely nothing to do with anyone and I would appreciate it if you didn’t associate my happiness with being in a relationship. I am perfectly fine by myself.” You snapped while clenching your wine glass in silent rage. Jungkook backed away with his hands up in defense.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I just thought I’d have a chance and shoot for it.” He apologized and you huffed.

“Well, as long as you understand,” you sipped your wine. “I don’t mean to be that girl, but how is he?”

“Jimin? Hah, that man hasn’t left his room in the longest time.” Jungkook scoffed while thinking back to earlier today when he tried to pry Jimin off his ass. “I invited him and I’m sure Taehyung did too, but who knows? That man hasn’t been willing to do anything with us lately.”

“Is that so?”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but it must’ve been pretty bad,” Jungkook said and stopped himself short, giving you a side glance. “Sorry, too soon?”

“Not at all,” you shrugged and gulped down your glass of wine. You jumped off the arm of the couch and pulled down your dress over your ass. “I think I’m going to go.”

“So soon? But it’s so early.” Jungkook pouted as he watched you leave.

“Yes, well, if you must know I’ve never been one to stay long at parties.”

You hitched a ride with one of your friends that just so happened to be leaving at the same time. She dropped you off back home at your apartment and you took your time unwinding, stripping off your dress and throwing it on your chair to hang it up later. You undid your hair from its tight braid and let it fall loosely, the strong scent of shampoo emanated from your wavy locks. You wiped your makeup off and hopped into the shower because being in an extremely crowded area made you feel unnecessarily more sweatier than usual.

After showering, you were finally able to relax in bed, but even as you hugged your throw pillow and propped yourself up to finish the latest season of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, your mind wandered elsewhere. What if Jimin had come to the party? What if you two had crossed paths without either of you knowing? And even if he did show, why would that matter to you?

How many times had you cried yourself to sleep in the past month? You forced yourself to stay awake thinking about what your life would be like if you hadn’t met Jimin. You’d probably end up alone—probably forever, still chasing a fantasy where you met the love of your life and lived happily ever after. You couldn’t sleep, because you knew that would never come true. Jimin didn’t know this, but he was able to give you hope. He made you believe you could chase your dreams and he stood there—right by your side, supporting you. How could you ever ask for anything more? How could you let such a supportive and caring man slip through your grasp so carelessly? If only you were a little more assertive or had a lot more faith in yourself, you could’ve told him how much he meant to you and how much you regretted hearing him leave. He was the only person that had ever shown you a single ounce of love, but of course you had to fuck it up. You fucked everything up. Maybe you were cashing in on the karma that you’ve complied over your lifetime. Maybe things will get better. Maybe in another life, you’d find another Jimin. Someone else that would make you feel as happy and wholesome as he did.

But in this life, you felt it was all over for you. You never had any luck in love and this was yet another example as to why you should never fall for someone again. It was a set up for disaster and you were bound to get hurt. So save the tears and hardships and the effort in making yourself feel pretty for someone else and bending your back for them to notice you. You were done with it.

Nonetheless, it was impossible to forget how gentle Jimin touched you—the first person to ever lay their hands on you and he held you like a fragile gem. You can still remember his touch and how it left a fiery trail on your skin. It’s almost impossible to get over the fact that the two of you, were at some point in time, more than friends. Behind those closed curtains and slow, rocking music, the two of you were lovers. You had to apologize in some way. Although you weren’t completely at fault for your separation, you felt ashamed for not being able to tell Jimin your true feelings and if you had... maybe none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have spent three months taking extra shifts at your job just to distract your mind from your problems.

At that moment, interrupting your television show was a knock at the door. It was soft and almost too quiet so you were unsure that you even heard it at all. You wondered if it was your roommate since she wasn’t home, but she had no reason to knock. She lived here, for goodness sake. So who else could it be?

You slowly stepped towards the door with light steps and stood on your toes to peer into the peephole. Your eyes widened upon seeing a head of black hair tucked underneath a grey hoodie. You planted your feet on the ground and pressed your fingertips against the door. What were you going to do? What was he doing here in front of your apartment? Were you ready to face him?

Another knock startled you and the vibrations on the door only made his presence that much more real. How long had it been since he was this close to you? A single piece of wood separated the two of you and if you opened it, you could see him. You could close the distance that had grown so, so far in the past three months.

“Y/N?” Jimin called out from behind the door. You gasped; the familiarity of your name rolling off his tongue reminded of how he whispered your name in your ear while your bodies were pressed together under the sheets. “Damn it, I knew she wasn’t home.” You heard him shift and panic overcame you.

“Wait!” You exclaimed through the door. “Don’t go!”

“Y/N? Is that you?” Jimin voice was louder now, as if he were standing right in front of you. You bumped your forehead against the door and curled your fingers inward.

“Yes, Jimin.”

Jimin’s breath stuttered. You were right behind that door—the courage he mustered hadn’t been in vain and he finally took the first step that would lead him to a better future, hopefully. “I—I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly. Do you have a moment? Can… we talk?”

Silence fell behind the door and he was afraid you had turned and left him speaking to himself. But your soft voice saved him.

“Sure. But the door stays closed.”

“That’s fine, I just wanted to get something off my chest.” Jimin inhaled deeply and ran his hand over the cold, hard wood. “I am… so sorry for everything I did and—and said that night. I was overreacting and scared that… you were going to be taken from me by some dick like Jungkook. But I realized that I was just being selfish and stupid and I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve told you earlier how much I care for you and how much you mean to me—I should’ve never let you cry and remembering that night keeps me up every night because I know everything was my fault and I just—I’m so… so sorry.” Jimin nestled his forehead against the door. His voice was so… weak. Like a cracked glass vase that would shatter any second. It trembled as if he were on the verge of tears.

You bit down on your quivering lip as a small whimper escaped. You had say it now, or your words were never going to see the light of day.

“I-I’m going to be honest with you, since we’re already on the subject.” You said through the door, your hand trembling in fright. “You’re quite immature for someone your age, Park Jimin. I can’t believe you could possibly think that I would do something as heartless as two-timing you, even though we weren’t explicit. How much faith do you have in me? I have never—ever considered any one else beside you!” You reached for the door handle with shaking hands and unlocked the door as you spoke the last words; the fluorescent lights in the hallway blinded you, but you opened it widely. Jimin stood there, frozen as he took in your words. When you opened the door, his wide eyes glistened with the sparkle of tears and darted to you. Your eyes were also lined with tears and you stood in the door way, breathing heavily.

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi.” You replied, one hand gripped the door handle tightly. Jimin’s eyes fell to his feet and he shifted from side to side.

“You know, you don’t have any reason to apologize. It was completely my fault.” He said in a serious tone. You shook your head and stepped towards him.

“No. I said some things I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” You said as Jimin raised his head, a small smile formed over his thick lips.

“You’re too nice for your own good, you know?” His voice was softer than you’ve ever heard it and he spoke from his heart. He closed the gap and you were reminded of how broad Jimin was. He smelled of soap and the earthiness of rain and interestingly enough, pine. “So, can I take this as forgiveness?” He asked as traced your arm with his fingers. You softened your gaze and your lips stretched into a smile.

“Hmm, I think I need more than a few words.” You hummed. Jimin’s eyebrow rose playfully.

“Oh? Is that how it is?” He cradled your face in his hands and traced your soft cheeks with his thumbs. His eyes darted around your face and took in all of your features. The hair that fell over your eyes, the way your lashes fluttered against your cheeks and how they shaped your glittering eyes.

“I know the order is all messed up and this was the first thing that should’ve come out my mouth the minute I started feeling this way,” Jimin ran his thumb over your bitten bottom lip and the imprinted the velvety texture into his brain. He looked deep into your eyes; his hands felt hot and sweaty and his throat threatened to close on him, but he had to get the words out. “Will you go out with me, Y/N?” Jimin asked as his eyebrows furrowed adorably. You inhaled sharply and your nose stung from the urge to cry right then. You nodded eagerly and grabbed his face, pulling him in and kissing him with such passion you almost knocked him backwards. You tasted like vanilla lip balm and your lips were unbelievably soft. He pulled you closer—the taste of your mouth was so intoxicating and addictive, he wanted to taste your lips forever. You gripped Jimin’s grey hoodie and deepened the kiss; you parted Jimin’s mouth and lapped at his tongue. Your breathy moans dripped into Jimin’s mouth and he drowned your sound out.

“I was so—“ he kissed you.

“—afraid—” another kiss.

“Of losing you.” Jimin said in between smooches and moved forward until your back hit the wall. You gasped and Jimin shut your lips with his again. His fingers were tangled in your hair the more intimate the kiss became.

“Jimin, we’re outside.” You moaned the moment you felt his fingers slide underneath your shirt, his touch burned your bare skin. Jimin nibbled on your lip before his hands slithered around your waist. His face fell into the crook of your neck and he stayed in that position, nuzzling his nose into your sweet smelling skin. Your hands found their way to his back and you pulled him closer, breathing in his scent.

“Can we go inside?” He mumbled just centimeters away from your ear, sending shivers through your body. Your grip on his hoodie tightened and you nodded shyly. You slipped your hand into his and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind him. You gathered his hoodie in your hand, balling it together and yanked Jimin down and crashed your lips into his. Jimin slammed his back into the door and grunted into your mouth, but the pain was quickly forgotten as soon as your tongue slipped back into his mouth.

“Mm, fiesty.” He mumbled and you felt his hands slither down the sides of your hips. He moved slowly and you swore he was trying to feel each and every one of your ribs.  He grazed right over the curve of your ass and pressed his finger under your ass, cupping it with his digits. You kissed the side of his mouth and stood on your toes so your nose was hovering over his.

“Let me do everything tonight.”

Jimin’s eyes shot open. “But I—“

“No buts.” You trailed your hand over Jimin’s chest, ghosting your fingertips over his nipple. His chest jumped as he gasped, but he made no action to stop you. “I want all of you.” You said as you dropped to your knees, running your hands over his stomach. His abs weren’t as solid as you remembered and you swore you felt his sternum through his clothes. Had he been eating anything in the last time you’d seen him? It felt like he lost so much weight. Nonetheless, you slid his sweatpants just enough so his semi-hard dick slipped from the waistband. You peeked through your eyelashes at Jimin, his neck strained with a prominent vein raised through his skin and disappeared into his jawline.

You glided your hand over his cock, just grazing the surface with the lightest touch of your fingertips. Jimin sighed shakily and hunched over; his hands were balled into fists against the door.

“Y/N, please…” he moaned and closed his eyes. He traveled back in time to when he was in the bathroom of the party committing such a sinful act and was able to cum just by thinking about you. That was nothing compared to this. It was worlds better; stroking him with the lightest touch enough to drive him insane. But in little to no time, Jimin’s cock was fully erect from your teasing stimulation.

“Missed me much?” You licked a long strip up the underside of his cock. Jimin’s jaw fell.

“Too much, aah.” He sang. You cupped Jimin’s balls and while working your way to the tip, you lapped around his girth with your tongue and tasted the faint saltiness of his cock. You tickled his frenulum with the tip of your tongue and Jimin’s knees shuddered and his hand rose to possibly grab the back of your head, but fell when you enveloped his tip in your warm mouth.

“Fuh-fuck, your mouth is so hot.” He hissed. You hummed, satisfied with the compliment. You wrapped your tongue around his swollen head, the rough texture of the muscle was a new sensation for Jimin. His moans were getting much louder and you thought the neighbors would hear and come complain. Well, then you’d get your revenge for that night Jimin exposed you in front of his friend. That jerk.

You took him deeper down your mouth until he reached the back of your throat. Jimin legs felt weak from the pleasure and he could barely hold himself up without bending his knees. He huffed heavily, chest shaking as he took rapid breaths.

“Ahh, deeper.” He pleaded in a gruff voice. You glanced up and pulled back, focusing your tongue towards the tip. Jimin whimpered and his whines switched on something dark in you, desiring nothing more than to make him fall apart from your touch. “Christ, Y/N, just let me cum.”

Jimin’s thick cock fell from your mouth with a wet pop and you stroked him off with your hand. “Let you cum? But I’m just getting started.” You pouted, lips pursed against his pink head lathered in your saliva. Jimin groaned in frustration and his hips shuddered forward, unable to sustain your teasing.

“I can’t help it—ugh. Your lips are so soft,” he balled his hoodie in his fist as a guttural moan spouted from his parted lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and sucked him deeper into your mouth. “And your... throat is so ungodly tight.”

You hummed playfully, his cock sliding down your throat. Jimin gasped and squeezed his eyes shut; his length throbbing against your tongue as you swirled it around his thickness. He looked as if he were about to cum any second so you bobbed your head up and down.

“F-Fu—oh god. Just like that, don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop.” He moaned as his eyes were closed in concentration to stay afloat or else his body would float away in pleasure.

Just then, breaking Jimin out of his state of bliss were a pair of footsteps that were approaching. Jimin’s hands flew to your head and attempted to push you off of his dick.

“Y/N, there’s someone—“ He stammered, but you ignored him, his desperation only made you move faster and sucked harder. “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, stop, I’m gonna—“ Jimin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you bottomed out, your chin rest against his twitching balls and his cock shoved down your throat as you gulped down his hot cum. Jimin jerked you forward, pushing your face into his stomach as his entire body doubled over in pleasure. He didn’t utter a sound and you heard the footsteps stop in front of the apartment across the hall; the door opening and promptly shutting in a span of seconds. You waited obediently for Jimin’s dick to soften before slowly releasing your restrains around him, lips still wrapped tightly to collect all of your saliva and his cum. You leaned back and swallowed, wiping the sides of your mouth and chin for excess juices and sucked your fingers clean.

“Demon.” Jimin panted, hair matted to his sweaty forehead and his eyes darkened with lust.

“Am not.” You said with a pout. Jimin yanked you upward by your bicep and you let out a surprised yelp. Your body slammed against him and Jimin latched his lips onto your collar and sucked hard. You let out a high-pitched moan and melted under his touch. That is, until you felt his teeth sink in and pain quickly overcame the pleasure.

“Ow!” You winced. Jimin licked at his teeth indentations that surrounded the blotchy red mark like a crown. “Who’s the demon again?” You scrunch your nose, making Jimin laugh coldly.

“Oh, I am going to mess you up.” He purred and whipped you around so you were now pressed against the door. Jimin’s lips were on yours in an instant and his hands were just as quick to reach under your drenched panties. His fingers moved nimbly as he rubbed small circles over your clit. A shudder ran up your spine and you jerked forward to meet his hands. However, Jimin was just as devilish and petty as you were and pulled his fingers away as soon as he saw you were feeling the slightest pleasure. You whined.

“Don’t you dare cry, not after what you did to me.” His voice was husky against your ear. Jimin yanked your panties down and you finished it off by slipping your legs through and kicking them aside. He gripped your right thigh and raised it, exposing your sex and lined his cock against your entrance.

“Let me hear you say it.” He said, leaving your neck with wet kisses. He rubbed his cock, already hard and raring to go, against your slit and lining it with your juices. You felt him prodding against your hole and it took so much willpower not to lower yourself onto his cock and have him slide all the way in. Your mouth watered at the thought.

“Jimin, fuck me, please. I’ve been waiting for this for too long, I think I’m going to go crazy.” You pleaded desperately. Without another word of argument, Jimin slid his cock in. The stretch was so amazing and fulfilling your toes curled as he pushed deeper. His raw cock scraped your walls intimately and his rod radiated heat, sending your mind into a frenzy. Your walls were so tight and constructed around him so tightly, enveloping his entire length in a hot vice. He buried his face into your neck and you let out a loud and spirited moan.

“Oh god, please move. You feel so good.” You cried. Jimin’s fingers dug into your thigh and began thrusting fervently right away. Given your position, Jimin was able to reach deep inside of you with each thrust and slammed into your sweet spot. You moaned every time you felt him poke at the entrance of your uterus but his vigor and roughness was all the more sexy and visually captivating to watch as sweat dribbled down the side of his face while his hips moved wildly.

“So tight, ‘s like you’re sucking me in.” He grunted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. Jimin hips moved faster and his hips slammed into you, the squelching sound of your pussy coincided and melded with your moans that drowned into Jimin’s mouth. It had been so long since you had his cock and it felt so good, so electrifyingly good you couldn’t keep hold of your mind as it floated off into a plane of bliss.

His hips snapped into you rapidly and your juices were smearing all over your inner thighs and Jimin’s hips, making your stick to Jimin’s skin. He licked along your neck, savoring the saltiness of your sweat and ground his hips into you, the soft hairs along his naval tickled your clit, but he was so deep inside of you your body was too frozen from the rapture of Jimin’s raw cock inside of you to care about anything else besides him.

You tangled your hands in Jimin’s hair and moaned into his mouth as you tightened around him. You weren’t able to give him a word of precaution before you body twitched and climaxed with his cock still thrusting inside of you; your eyes rolling back from the intensity of your orgasm. Jimin felt how your walls squeeze around him and he slowed his movements, allowing you to ride out your orgasm to the fullest. And even though he had just cum a while ago, the urge was back in no time and heat swirled in his lower region.

“You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” He grunted, bucking his hips into you. You hovered over his lips.

“Cum for me. I want all of you.” You said and watched Jimin’s melt from your words. He lifted your other leg up and slammed deep into you, only able to put in a few more thrust before you felt his hot cum paint your walls. He kissed you while he drained himself in you and you gladly took all of him, holding him close to you. He slipped his cock out, slowly pulling away from your tight walls and as soon as it was out, a stream of white spunk dripped out of your hole and pooled at the floor. You slowly lowered your trembling legs to the ground and cupped your sex so the mess wouldn’t increase.

“Sorry, I got carried away.” He panted and watched you slide your finger through your slit, coating it in his cum which was oddly arousing.

“I can’t believe you just did that.” Your shoulders shook from your light-hearted laugh. Jimin managed a smile and picked his sweats from the ground and slipped into them.

“Should I go get...” he started and let his sentence trail off upon seeing you lick his cum off your fingers in a kittenish manner. You glanced at him, a hint of seduction behind your gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just never get tired of seeing you do that. It’s so hot.” He ran his fingers through his hair in disbelief. You lined your lips with your tongue when you were done. You picked your crumpled panties from off the ground, straightened them out and shimmied into them, adjusting the area around your butt.

“You should get going. My roommate will be home any minute and I still have to remove all the evidence of us having sex from here.” You smiled softly.

“Damn, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“No?”

“Not at all. I was thinking about you and before I knew it, my feet brought me here.”

“You ran here?” You sounded uneasy. Jimin stepped forward so he was facing you, just inches away. His mouth twisted into a silly smile and he bonked the space between your eyebrows with his knuckle, knocking you back.

“It was a joke, silly.” His squeaky giggle lifted your soul and you couldn’t help but grin. Jimin stroked your hair, sweeping it away from your eyes. He looked at you with such endearment and a longing gaze as he held your cheek in his palm gently. His eyes fell to your lips, then back at your eyes. “Thank you for listening. I’ll let you sleep now.” He leaned in and pecked your lips.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

-

Taehyung and Jungkook had woken up late the next day due to their partying the night before. They stumbled out of their rooms with droopy faces and aching headaches and huddled in the kitchen like zombies to fix themselves a quick breakfast. Jungkook poured himself a bowl of Frosted Flakes while Taehyung opted for a package of untoasted strawberry-flavored Pop-Tarts.

“You have fun last night?” Taehyung asked mid-bite in his groggy, morning voice. He was leaning back in one of the chairs in the kitchen while Jungkook stood with his feet spread. Jungkook was too busy munching on his cereal to answer him right away, but he gave a short nod; his brown fringe brushing over his tired eyes.

“Like always.” He said and smirked. Taehyung snorted and the two tapped fists. Just then, Jimin burst out of his room full dressed in a sky blue tee and ripped denim jeans. He sported a slightly darker blue baseball cap over his hair—which didn’t look like a tumbleweed for once—and was rummaging around the living room, throwing couch cushions and throw pillows over his shoulder. He whipped around to his two roommates.

“Have either of you seen my keys?” He panted. Jungkook shrugged absentmindedly, not even raising his eyes from his bowl of cereal.

“Have you checked your pockets?” Taehyung asked as Jimin patted his legs down to no luck. “Maybe they’re in your room?”

Jimin fled to his room and both Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged a confused look before Jimin walked back out of his room with his keys dangling from his fingers.

“Where were they? I bet they were in your pocket, huh?” Taehyung chortled and tossed a piece of Pop-Tart into the air and catching it in his mouth. Jimin slipped the keys into his pocket and fixed his hat over his head.

“No, it was in my jacket. I guess I must’ve left it there last night.” He replied. Jungkook glanced up from bowl of cereal and his gaze sharpened at Jimin.

“Last night? Where were you last night?”

Jimin raised his eyes and noticed Jungkook’s narrow eyes. “I… went to the party.”

Taehyung’s expression lit up. “You did?! I’m so proud of you, dude!” He exclaimed brightly. Jungkook poked the inside of his cheek and quirked an eyebrow.

“I see.” Jungkook said under his breath. A part of Jungkook was glad that Jimin had finally gotten out of the house after being holed up in his room for the longest time, but Jungkook couldn’t help but feel bitter thinking back to last night before you left. It felt like, no matter how hard he tried, he would never appear as attractive or heroic as Jimin did in your eyes. It wasn’t that Jungkook wasn’t glad that Jimin was so happy, but seeing his spirits so lifted was a clear sign that something happened last night. That fact alone ticked Jungkook off.

“That’s great man, but why didn’t I see you? Why didn’t you tell us?” Taehyung asked curiously.

“Well, I didn’t stay for a long time anyway. I just stopped by and… had a drink.” Jimin said and raised his arm to check his watch. “Shit, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you guys later!” Jimin waved to his roommates before heading out the front door and slamming it shut behind him.

“Look at him, something good must’ve happened. Do you think he and Y/N made up?” Taehyung sat back with a smile on his face. Jungkook finished off his bowl and set it in the sink.

“Seems like it, doesn’t it?”he muttered under his breath while brushing past Taehyung, a sour expression plastered on his face.

Jimin jumped into his car and wrestled with his keys to start his engine. After everything you said last night, the first Jimin wanted to do drive over to your apartment and see you again, to kiss you and hold you in his arms tighter so you wouldn’t slip through his careless fingers. He couldn’t forget the kiss last night and he touched his lips to remind himself of your kiss that sparked like fireworks. He could only think of what would happen if he hadn’t gone to see you last night. How long would it have taken him to muster up the courage and talk to you? How lucky had he been to have his words come across and resonate with you? He feared what would happen if things had taken a wrong turn. You could’ve cursed him out—chased him away from your door and never to be heard from again.

But now Jimin had to prove to himself to be a better man, someone that would cherish you and never make you feel the slightest insecure again. You told him over and over again how you had never been in love before and that it was all a faraway fantasy that happened in movies and broadway shows. True love wasn’t real in your opinion, but it was Jimin’s sole purpose now to prove that wrong. Although he wasn’t any different from you; he had never been in love nor did he believe he could fall for someone this hard, but in the short time that he knew you, you only showed him the better things in life. You changed him. You pulled him straight out of his boring and bare lifestyle, seeing the same views—the same people dancing hypnotically to the same music. It was like being surrounded by sheep that only knew what they’ve been exposed to. It began to feel so repetitive and Jimin woke up some days wondering if going to school was going to change anything because those days too felt as unchanging as the rest. That is, until you appeared and changed everything.

Would he be able to make you as happy as you made him?

-

You dragged your heavy feet all the way from the parking lot of your complex and were surprised to even make it to the elevator which gave you about a 20-second grace period where you could rest your feet. Although you loved your job and wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world (besides a six-figure paying job, but when would an opportunity like that come around?), but you were starting to wonder if these extra long shifts were worth the calluses that formed on your heels after being on your feet for hours on end. At this point, you were yearning for the end of the day where you could relax in a hot bath with a glass of wine to melt your stress away.

You swung the door to your apartment open and instantly slung your heels to the wall, sighing in relief. Your roommate, Ji Soo, poked her head from the kitchen at the sound of the door opening; her hair was done up in a messy bun and she wore an oversized men’s t-shirt.

“Someone’s had a hard day at work.” She pointed out, a small pint of cookie dough ice cream in her hand. She spooned some into her mouth as used her eyes to gesture to the table. “Someone also has a secret admirer.” She giggled.

You looked to the coffee table and was slowly captivated by the crown of ruby foliage that decorated your table, casting a red glow around the room. You walked to the table with hypnotized steps and picked up the heavy bouquet, turning it side to side to capture more of the roses’ essence.

“Who…” you began, your vocabulary was empty upon casting your eyes on the flowers. Your hand touched something on the back of the bouquet and you pulled it out, revealing a piece of card stock lined with gold foil. On the back was engraved in the same gold foil:

I never stop thinking about you

The fancy, gold embroidery didn’t take away from the message that was written and how deeply it struck you. You traced over each word with your finger and soon a goofy, love-struck smile curled at the corners of your lips.

“Who is it from?” Ji Soo asked and rest her bottom on the corner of the kitchen table. You pressed your lips together to contain your smile.

“My secret admirer.” You said slyly.

You kept the bouquet of roses on your desk where the light from the moon cast a white glow on the petals. You could stare at them forever and never get tired of them. You knew they would eventually wither and dry into brittle pieces, but until then you kept them on display.

[11:39 PM] you: the flowers are beautiful [11:39 PM] you: thank you

[11:40 PM] Jimin: I have no idea what you’re talking about

For a second, you thought your assumptions about your secret admirer were wrong, until Jimin sent another text.

[11:40 PM] Jimin: kidding [11:40 PM] Jimin: I know you love roses

[11:41 PM] you: you seem to know a lot about me

[11:41 PM] Jimin: you aren’t exactly the most discreet [11:41 PM] Jimin: but thats not exactly a bad thing [11:42 PM] Jimin: I can learn a lot from you

Was Jimin finally willing to open up about himself? The one thing you wanted the most was to know the real Jimin and maybe, just maybe it was possible.

[11:43 PM] you: I don’t have anything to teach you

[11:44 PM] Jimin: or so you think [11:44 PM] Jimin: when can I see you again

You blushed thinking to your intense makeup session with Jimin right outside of your door and you too couldn’t wait to kiss him again. You imagined his intense kisses that he left on your body and how tenderly he touched you, like a fragile doll that he was afraid of breaking again. It was a shame that he had to leave during the night because it wouldn’t be so bad to wake up next to him.

[11:45 PM] you: this weekend [11:45 PM] you: lets have dinner

You wanted to see him as soon as possible and what could be better than a dinner date? Yeah, sure, it was a cliche among all cliches, but this was what you wanted to do. You were the ruler of your own world and from now on, you were going to play your cards right.

[11:46 PM] Jimin: a dinner huh? [11:46 PM] Jimin: sounds great [11:46 PM] Jimin: will you let me plan this one out? I want to show you a good time

[11:47 PM] you: well if you insist then I won’t argue

[11:47 PM] Jimin: then its a date

A date. Finally, a real fucking date. One with someone you actually cared for and harbored true feelings for. How different would it be? How were you supposed to act now that you were in a relationship and how long could you maintain it before your karma got the worst of you and snatched your happiness from you right when you got it.

[11:50 PM] Jimin: I’ll let you sleep princess [11:50 PM] Jimin: I love you

You flung your phone across the room and it smacked against the wall. You flipped over on your bed, grabbbing your pillow and stuffed your face in it and screamed. Your legs flailed around the bed and kicked up your blanket, messing up the sheets as well. You only stopped when your throat felt like it had been abused with sandpaper and you raised your head to breathe. The first time. It was the first time you had heard those words said to you in a romantic expression and Jimin had yet again taken one of your firsts from you.

You crawled off the bed and grabbed your phone, replying with ‘I love you too, goodnight’ before jumping back on your bed and rolling around, holding your phone to your chest. This was all so new to you; these tingling feelings that burst in your chest like firecrackers and made you feel light-headed with bliss. Was your heart able to handle Jimin if he was going to say such things so spontaneously?

It wasn’t hard for Jimin to come up with his date plans. He spent the last three months thinking about stuff like this and it was only a matter of choosing which one he wanted to do first. There were many to choose from: an aquarium date, a stroll in the park, or maybe he’d take you the carnival and drag you on the Mega Drop like he’d been wanting for the longest time. There were so many possibilities and he was positive he’d get to all of them, but there was only one place that he had in mind.

Jimin sent you flowers every day for the entire week leading up to your first date with him and each bouquet had its own message. You collected the cards and kept them safe in your drawer, with a red ribbon tied around the growing stack of gold embellished cards. Every night you would pull them out and read them over to yourself like a young maiden in love because technically that’s what you were. Although, as the number of flowers increased, the places to display them decreased drastically and soon your room had turned into a greenhouse of assorted flowers, blending to recreate a fresh, Spring-like scent through the apartment.

Finally, the awaited day had come. Jimin didn’t speak a word of his plans or where he was taking you. He simply told you to be ready at eight, so by law, you had to begin getting ready four hours ahead of time. You had already chosen your outfit, a pale pink summer dress that hugged your waist snuggly with a ribbon tied at the back. You accessorized with a long gold necklace that hung low as well as a matching bracelet. The shoes were perhaps the hardest to pick out as you had to decide between a neutral beige or a darker pink, both of which looked amazing with your outfit. You consulted Ji Soo and she said, and you quoted, that “the beige is sexy.” Going from that, of course you had to choose the beige.

You painted your face beautifully with makeup and even topped off your look with lip gloss, which Ji Soo complimented as well. You sat at the edge of your bed half an hour before Jimin was supposed to come pick you up and Ji Soo poked her head in to check on you.

“You look like a doll, I still can’t get over how cute you look!” She squealed and rest her cheek against door frame, admiring the way you sat on the bed in such a delicate manner with your knees poised.

“I feel like my face is going to melt off. I’ll probably come back looking like a hot mess.” You laughed and raised a compact mirror to fix your hair. Ji Soo eyes softened, like a mother sending her daughter off to a dance. You were her roommate for the majority of college and she couldn’t ask for a more lovely friend. Despite not being in a relationship and having no experience in that field whatsoever, you gave her the best love advice. And now she couldn’t be more proud to see you beaming and radiation happiness.

“I hope you have fun tonight.” Ji Soo winked before receding back to her room and you waited for Jimin’s call.

Meanwhile, Jimin had also spent his morning and for fact of the matter, the entire week preparing tonight’s event. More specifically, he stayed up late last night and made a complete mess in the kitchen. Everything had to be perfect and he wouldn’t accept anything less. Jimin had about seven outfits planned out in his head, but as soon as he tried them on none of them felt right. He switched up the outfits, mixing and matching garments together until he finally decided on a large black and white plaid flannel. He tucked the front flaps into his black jeans with a leather belt holding them in place. He fled his apartment in a flash and hopped into his car. Jimin took one glance at the backseat to double check if everything was in place, and with that assurance, he was on his way to see you, singing along and drumming his hands on the steering wheel to 88rising’s Peach Jam.

It happened in an instant. A streak of bright white light blinded Jimin and he ducked his head, slamming his foot on the breaks. His body lurched forward from the force, his seatbelt snapped on his chest and the next thing he knew, the windows had crashed and shattered around him while his body was being hurled around wildly in his seat. Shards of glass pierced his skin and Jimin must’ve slammed his head against the steering wheel and dashboard a dozen times before everything went still. His eyes struggled to stay open and he could hear the faint cars from the Main street driving by. Jimin fought to stay conscious, but his vision was wavering, blurring the starts in the sky and making them appear as bright city lights. His conscious was fleeting and Jimin shut his eyes, eventually gave into the serene monotonous ring in the back of his mind.

And you waited.

[misslongcep]

Histories Collide - an Uncharted fanfic...

Hi there! Thank you for choosing to read my uncharted fanfic! I absolutely love the Uncharted series, and ofc Sam Drake (who wouldn’t?) so I just had to write something. Please let me know what you think - likes/reblogs are much appreciated!

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Chapter 1

When Maggie Thyme got the news that her Grandmother Evelyn had died, she was beyond devastated.

Not only because her Grandmother had died, but she was the only person who made Maggie feel "normal". Like Evelyn, Maggie was a keen reader and historian. From a very young age, Maggie had always been interested in the old books gathering dust in her Grandmother's study, and she couldn't wait until she was old enough to go and research some of the ancient legends she had been told about as bed time stories. Maggie's own parents, and Evelyn's son and daughter-in-law, had been less than unsupportive about her interests, saying she had inherited her Grandmother's "obsession" and no good would come from it.

In fact, when Maggie expressed her wishes about pursuing her dream and studying History at college, her parents all but disowned her, and Maggie went to live with Evelyn in Boston instead, where she spent her childhood years soaking up her Grandmother's knowledge of all things ancient and legendary. Every school holiday, you would be sure to find Maggie at the Museum where her Grandmother and her team worked, following anybody who would listen, and filling their ears with questions and her own theories as to where these legends stemmed from.

Just before Maggie's 18th birthday, she had made plans with her Grandmother to visit some of the colleges she would be applying to; UCLA, Columbia and Berkeley. Maggie had wanted to attend Boston University, as it meant she could stay at home and keep an eye on Evelyn who, despite all of her protests, had begun to look a little unsteady on her feet.

Evelyn, however, had other ideas. "You can't put a price on a decent education, Maggie!" she would say. "If you're going to be like me, then you gotta go the distance to get there!". Maggie was never too sure what her Grandmother meant when she said things like that, but she knew better than to question them. Her Grandmother eventually agreed, however, that Maggie would go to any interviews on her own. She didn't want to be seen as "piggybacking" on Evelyn Thyme's reputation.

One spring evening, Maggie made the 3 and a half hour journey from Boston to New York in preparation for her school interview at Columbia University the next day. After getting stuck in traffic jams for the last third of the journey, stopping for a well needed coffee break, and then getting lost in the bustling New York Streets trying to find her hotel, Maggie collapsed exhausted on her hotel bed almost 3 hours later than she should have done. She was just about to doze off, when her hotel phone rang.

"Hello?" she answered sleepily.

"Good Evening, Miss Thyme. There is a call for you from a Mrs Evelyn Thyme, should I connect?" the receptionist asked.

"Sure, go ahead" Maggie replied almost unwillingly, adjusting her position in preparation for the audible onslaught her Grandmother was about to give her.

There was a click as the receptionist connected the call, and before Maggie could say hello, her Grandmother bellowed down the phone, "WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?! I have been calling and calling for you for the last 2 hours! I've been worried sick, anything could have happened! You should have called me the moment you got there!"

"Woah, calm down Gran! I've only just arrived!" Maggie interjected. "The traffic was ridiculous, and then I couldn't find my hotel!"

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN! I KNOW HOW LONG IT TAKES TO GET TO NEW YORK FROM HERE, AND IT DOES NOT TAKE...." Maggie rolled her oval brown eyes as she held the phone away from her ear, whilst she waited for her Grandmother to finish reading the riot act. There was no point even trying to reason with Evelyn when she was like this; Maggie was too similar to know it would be pointless.

"Better to just take the shouting, apologise and promise you will be more considerate in future" Maggie thought to herself.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, Evelyn seemed to remember why she was actually calling. "Oh, guess what came today!" She suddenly exclaimed excitedly.

"What?"

"Do you remember Cassandra Morgan, my number one researcher at the museum?" Evelyn asked.

"Vaguely" Maggie replied. "I only saw her a few times."

"Yes, you would have. She was extremely unwell, and nobody knew except me" Evelyn remembered, sadly. "Every day, she put on a brave face for her husband and her two young children, but she got to the point where she couldn't cope, and it was easier to end her pain."

"How sad," Maggie had no idea. She had only met Cassandra a few times when she was young, she was constantly flying from one expedition to another. Then one day, she just realised that she never saw her again. Maggie had never even given it a thought, and was instantly ashamed. She remembered Evelyn mentioning two children, and thought about how she'd feel if it was her Grandmother who had suddenly killed herself with no explanation. Maggie shuddered. "Her poor family," Maggie said, thoughtfully, "they must have been devastated."

"Well actually, that's why I'm calling," Evelyn answered, serious now. "After she died, her husband couldn't cope. He abandoned his boys to an orphanage, sold all of his belongings, and disappeared overnight. Never seen again." Maggie was shocked. "It was an awful shame, he was a pretty good explorer too, from what I remember. They'd collected all kinds of weird and wonderful things over the years, and he sold every last bit of it. AND within the belongings that he sold, was all of Cassandra's research," Evelyn went on, "Every note she had taken, every map she had drawn, Gone! It's taken me a while, but I've finally found it after all these years! It arrived today, so the moment you get back from Columbia, I want you going through every journal you can find, Maggie! This is a chance for us to prove Cassandra's dream come true, I owe her that much after all!" Maggie's Grandmother almost sang, she was so excited again.

Maggie chuckled, fondly. This is what she loved about her Grandmother, more than anything else in the world. Her passion. Here she was, almost 90 years old, and she was speaking as if she was a giddy schoolgirl. Maggie began to get excited herself, and smiled. "Okay, you got it, Gran" Maggie laughed, "anything else?"

"Just you be safe, young lady" Evelyn retorted, back to lovingly-overbearing Grandmother mode. "New York can be dangerous! Make sure you call me tomorrow!"

"I will, don't worry," Maggie sighed, "I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning before I leave for my interview, and I'll call you as soon as I'm back afterwards, deal?" Maggie asked with just a twinge of sarcasm she knew her Grandmother wouldn't miss.

"You best do, young lady, or there'll be hell to pay!" Evelyn growled, lovingly.

"Love you, Gran, Good Night!" Maggie laughed as she hung up the phone.

Maggie lay on the bed for a moment, thinking about what her Grandmother had just told her. She wondered what had happened to Cassandra's husband and their two kids, whether they ever saw each other again, and her thoughts flickered to her own mother. They had never been particularly close, seeing as Maggie's mother couldn't stand to have a daughter who refused to conform to the "normal" things girls should do. Maggie wondered if there was an underlying reason why her mother was so against her following her Grandmother's footsteps, which she didn't know about. Maggie promised to herself she would call her Mom once she got home, in an effort to make amends for the time they'd not spent together as she grew up.

Maggie shook her head, as if to shake off the looming thoughts threatening to ruin her Grandmother's good news. "This is it!" Maggie thought to herself excitedly. "I'm finally going to have my own research to study!" Maggie thought about the opportunities this could bring. Not only could she be potentially attending one of the oldest Colleges in America, but she could start her classes with a wealth of actual fieldwork experience! "This is unbelievable! Almost too good to be true!" Maggie squealed with excitement as she climbed under the crisp hotel bed sheets. As she settled down, she let her mind wander to great mounds of treasure, buried on an island far, far away waiting to be discovered and smiled lazily as she finally fell asleep, her dreams playing out behind her closed eyes.