#i dreamt of a blue butterfly au

[howi99]

I dreamt of a blue butterfly 4

(i'm changing back to the normal way of writing dialogue, since i think people prefer it that way on tumblr.)

Ruby: So, uh... Cardin, right?

Cardin: *sigh* Yes.

Ruby: Where are you from?

Cardin: Vale... What about you?

Ruby: Patch. My dad and uncle are teachers in signal. They taught me everything i know!

Cardin: i see...

Ruby: You uh... You ok?

Cardin: *look at Ruby* honestly? I wanted to be in a team with my friends. I didn't expect a little girl to crash into me at Mach 3.

Ruby: Hey! I'm good enough to be here! I'm not too young or-

Cardin: I meant your height.

Ruby: .... Well i wasn't expecting to crash into a giant in armor either, but here we are.

Cardin: ...

Ruby: ...

Both: *thinking* (God this is so awkward)

________

Yang: Wait, you never trained!? How did you enter Beacon!?!

Jaune: I signed a contract? Didn't you do the same?

Yang: No! I- Holy shit, you could have died! You should have died! And that explains your lack of aura...

Jaune: W-well, i'm here aren't i? Alive and-

Yang: Dude! Do you know how dangerous your situation is!?! I wasn't trained to protect a civy yet!

Jaune: I got a sword... And a shield?

Yang: *sarcastically* Congratulations! You have a twig and a sheet of paper, for all the good it would make. *Sigh* I guess i should activate your aura, uh? It should give you some protection, at least.... Give me your hand, VB.

Jaune: already back with that nickname?

Yang: You lost your name privilege when i learned you were an absolute moron. *Taking his hand* Now, hold still and... Uh...

Jaune: What's wrong?

Yang: ... That can't be... VB, you are 100% sure you didn't get your aura unlocked?

Jaune: Yang, i didn't even know what aura WAS 10 minutes ago.

Yang: Well... Uh... It seems like it's already unlocked... That would explain why you survived but... Why didn't it activate when that branch slapped you in the face and why were you unconscious? You should have been fine...

Jaune: *looking behind yang* Uh... Yang?

Yang: *not really listening, thinking about the strange condition Jaune has* Hm?

Jaune: What does a grimm look like?

Yang: An animal with plaque armor, why?

Jaune: So uh... Not a floating pumpkin with a lantern?

Yang: ...What?

Jaune: *pointing behind her* because i see at least 3 looking at us.

[abovetheground]

،، › ࣪˖ ⌕ 📃 𖦹 ! ﹫abovetheground ࣭͘ ⭑ุ 𝁼 𔓕 . · 𖣠 ˖ 𖥨៹

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ [user] is writing ... ₎

˙˖𓏲 ִֶָ 𔒌

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Blues

When Alice dreamt, she dreamt about Krat. The hotel, the blue fairy, the beauty and pain of a grotesque land that fit her like a fairytale

When Carlo dreamt, he dreamt about Wonderland. The perfect vivid work of fantasy, where the Red Queen ruled and he was truly, a real boy.

While living in their own fantasies, and dreaming across the lands of their imaginations, Carlo experiences the dreamland of Alice’s imagination. As she wondered about the adventures she could live with the Red Fox and the Black Cat once the sun faded away and she could dive on her sleep. One follows his blue butterfly, and the other runs with the snow collored rabbit

But Carlo wasn’t a real boy anymore, and Alice can’t reach Wonderland…

Or so she thought.

୨ authors note ୧

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

This is somewhat a WIP, somewhat an experiment. I had this idea from a fanart of both of the characters (P and Alice from Alice Madness Returns) with their og versions

II love a good fairytale retelling and I have a serious crush in both characters so I said: Why Not? To myself and decided to work it out with little we have from both their personalities. Also in this sort of AU there is no puppet frenesi or Simon trying to play Jesus. Alice's universe is something in between American McGee's (80%), Tim Burton's(1%) and Lewis Carol's (19%) versions of Wonderland. Carlo died from petrification like someone dies from a natural plague, both his and Alice's lives are pretty much normal aside from Ergo, Puppets, the 1800s, british people, italians and the pure existence of Wonderland and talking animals (also all the magic)

(also I love writing clothes so there will be descriptions of clothing from Alice Asylum and other ideas, like for example of like: the bargaining suit, sleeping gown, denial dress, after credits and etc)

I hope I actually get to work on it~

this could be somewhat a self insert because my name is also alice

[fluffysucker]

We paint the town blue

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Boxer/Biker! Bucky Barnes x Chef! Reader.

Part of the Miss Americana & The heartbreak Prince universe AKA Bucky and his princess.

ALL ONESHOTS COULD BE READ AS STAND-ALONE

Your first I love you.

Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female. Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated.

Main Masterlist

It was as cliche as movies. To say your first I love during your first fight.

It had been some time since your fantastic first date, and it had been wonderful ever since. You went on lots of other dates, and each one was more breathtaking than the previous. From beach days, picnics, fancy places, movies to staying over at the restaurant and midnight walks, everything was perfect. Bucky was perfect.

You found what people say about him, claiming him to be very bizarre. A big lie. He was the sweetest person.

He loved astrology and space. He loved the army's stories and knew everything about World War Two. He loved reading. He loved the 40th music. He loved to slow dance. He loved to take long walks around and outside the city. He loved to go to museums and exhibitions. He loved having deep conversations.

He was funny. He was caring. He was fiercely loyal. He was a family man. He was smart. He was passionate. He was compassionate. He was kind. He was good-hearted.

He was everything good. And he was yours. Your perfect boyfriend.

It didn't take him long to ask you to be his girl officially. Couple dates and he was attached. He couldn't imagine going another day where you weren't his girl.

After an amazing date, with his leather jacket draped over your shoulder, his hands wrapped around your waist, one of your hands around his neck and the other holding the flowers that he insisted to buy you mid-date, your lips connected in the most gentle loving kiss, he knew this was the moment. He wanted to stay like this forever. This was the heaven he read about and dreamt of

You broke away, your eyes never leaving each other, your sweet-tasting lipgloss lingering on his lips, your soft smile big on your face. Like everything with you, he let his heart take over. Words fell from him, unplanned.

"Please, be my girl"

Your smile got bigger, your eyes had a different shine, your heartbeats could be heard from afar, butterflies ran in your stomch, and your mind screamed one word over and over.

With your red cheeks, you stood on your highest tiptoe, kissing Bucky, your boyfriend.

And just like that, you were dating Bucky Barnes.

You understood a bit by bit why people thought that of him. He didn't show that side with anyone. The side he ofter let you saw was only for eyes.

When he would tell you about his day in more than three words. When he would respond to your childhood stories with little glimpses of his. When he would spend the night, his head resting on your chest, his body above yours without crushing you. When he would let you run your fingers through his hair. When he would listen to your talking for hours nonstop. When he would make you laugh and smile. When he would send you texts through the day, checking on you, despite being a wall apart most days. When he would walk you home every night. When he would wait for you at the restaurant's door so he would see your face first thing in the morning. When he would lay soft kisses on your hands when you served him and the guys whenever they stopped by.

All stuff that was reserved to you. All the efforts he put for you. Looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. Treating you like a princess.

When your relationship became known to other people, especially those surrounding the gym and restaurant, people would warn you about how dangerous Bucky was, how he was to ruin your life, how bad he was for. You wanted to laugh out loud.

You had been on your own most of your life. You had known bad. You had seen bad. And Bucky was the farthest away from bad. The 6'1 "foot long muscular boxer made you feel safe. He made you feel loved and protected.

Yes, you were worlds different, but he had nothing to do with you. The sweet girl with colourful dresses next door. If he didn't want you, then he wouldn't be with you. So you didn't listen to people's words. You never let it affect.

You and Bucky were doing fine. So fine.

Until one day, you weren't.

You were storming to your apartment, Bucky following behind. You weren't going to have this conversation in front of anyone. You opened your apartment's door, throwing the keys aside.

"I'm still trying to understand why you're upset." Bucky was the first to start talking, closing the door.

You turned to him as you took off your shoes and cardigan, leaving you in your tank top and skirt.

"How would you feel if you saw a picture of me on social media with three men that you don't know at all, kissing my cheeks, when I told you I was at work."

You didn't expect the turn your day was taking when you decided to have a little break since business was slow today. You checked your phone and saw that Sam posted a story to his account. You pressed on it and regretted it immediately.

There was your boyfriend, surrounded by three very beautiful women, all laying kisses to his face. And he had a little smile on his face.

You could swear you heard the knife that went through your heart. Of course, you trusted Bucky. But this was too much. Too much for anyone. Too much for you.

"I was at work." Bucky tried to justify.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know your work as a boxer involved being showered with kisses by different women." Your voice almost broke. The anger and sadness running through your body mixed together.

You had no idea how to handle this. What to do?What to say? You were clueless. All you knew was that you hated how this picture made you feel.

"These are my friends. They were joking. They stopped by and stayed for a bit. They decided to joke around." Bucky didn't like the sight of you sad and angry. Because of him. He absolutely despised it.

"I swear to you, doll. There is nothing going on. They are just my friends." He added. When he saw that you still had doubts in your eyes, he walked towards you slowly.

"Okay, look." He said as he stayed a bit further from you than normal. He hated it so much, but he was trying to figure how to handle a situation when you were upset.

He brought his phone out, unlocking it and opening the story to see the picture. He had to admit the picture was questionable. If it was reserved, he would be very anrgy. He would've messed stuff up before trying to talk.

"This is Wanda. She is married to Vision. A nice British guy. This is Natasha. She had a sex only relationship with Steve until she met Bruce and fell in love with him. This is Yelena. She is asexual." Bucky explained to you as he pointed to each one in the picture.

"And they know I hate physical touch and affection. They thought it would be a funny way to mess me." You turned to look at Bucky as he talked.

"Except from you." He said quickly, pulling a small smile from you.

"It's all platonic. They are like sisters to me." Bucky let out a breath of relief when your face softened.

"I trust you, Bucky. But seeing this." You didn't know how to phrase your thoughts.

"I understand, doll. You had every right. I'm sorry." Bucky knew he was in the wrongs. Apologising seemed the right way to go.

Bucky was happy as he saw you nod your head as an acceptance of his apology. But his happiness was short lived as you spoke your next words.

"You know. All of this would have been avoided if you had introduced me to them."

"Not this again."

This was a topic you often found yourself disagreeing about. You felt you were going steady enough for you to meet the rest of his friends. You already met some of them. You got along very well with Sam and Steve. Along with the others who frequented the gym sometimes. How bad the rest could be? But Bucky turned the suggestion down immediately.

For Bucky, meeting the rest meant meeting the real him. The team knew him too well. They knew what he was capable of. What he could do. But they weren't so innocent either. They understood each other. That's what made them family.

You, on the other hand, didn't belong there. You were the sweet soul in his tortured world. You, who filled his days with your colours. You, who made him feel like a teenage boy with a crush. You, who guided him through the darkness. You, the sunshine of his life.

You had nothing to do near them. He was feeling guilty enough for being with you. You deserved better. But he chose to be selfish. He couldn't live without you. But that didn't mean tinting you more.

"Yes again and again. Until you tell me why you don't want me to meet them." You may be able to forgive the whole picture thing. But this, no. You needed answers.

"You have nothing in common. Why do you even want to meet them?" He knew why. Because you were so caring that you wanted to know everything about him. You wanted to be involved in the things he likes and loves. Because nobody cared about him like you.

"Because I should meet the people that my boyfriend spends most of his time with."

"And I said I don't want you to."

"Why? Are you ashamed of me or something?"

The question should have slowed things down, but it only made him more frustrated. You think he would be ashamed of you? Sometimes, he had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. That you were really his girl.

You weren't always thinking like this. However, when your boyfriend refuses to let you meet the people, he calls family, every single time. Your mind wonders.

"My god, that's what you think? That I'm ashamed of you. "

"Are you?"

"Of course not. How do you even think of this?"

"Then why are you so insistent that I never even have a chance to meet them?"

"Because I love you."

Silence filled the room for seconds. Both of you looking at each other.

"You love me?" The whisper left you as moved back towards Bucky.

"Yes, I love you. I'm so in love with you that I can't believe it sometimes. I'm so in love with you that I would give up my life for you in heartbeat."

"Which is why I don't want you to meet the others. This means letting you see that side of me. The boxer who beats people with no mercy. Who spills blood without looking back. And I can't."

"Bucky..."

"You won't look at me again. You won't want to be in the same room with me. You will run away."

"Bucky.."

"And I can't let you go. God knows I tried. I couldn't. You are the best thing in my life. I can't handle you hating me."

"Bucky.."

"So let me have this. The time I have with you before you realise the big mistake you're making. Before you realise you deserve a better man. Before you leave me..."

The feeling of your lips smashing against his wasn't something Bucky expecting. You kissed him with force. With purpose.

"Would you stop talking, please?" You said, your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"I love you, Bucky."

For this first time in his life, Bucky felt his heart drop from happiness. Nothing made him want to shed happy tear up to this moment.

"I love you so much that nothing can ever make me hate. Nothing you say or show me will change it. I love you."

"You are all I have, Bucky. Nobody ever made me feel so happy, safe, and appreciated. For me, this is forever. I want you to be my forever. So, don't ever think there's a part of you that I wouldn't love."

This time, it was Bucky who leaned to kiss you. The kiss was deep. He was trying to pour all his love for you into it. To tell you how nobody mattered like you.

He moved his hands to your hips, lifting you to wrap your legs around his waist, still kissing you.

"I love you. I love you so much, princess." Bucky spoke quickly, still trying to catch his breath.

"I love you too, Bucky." You tightened your arms around his neck, nuzzling into his neck, wrapping yourself around him while he laid kisses on your hair

There was nothing like this

[mirrorofliterature]

fic author interview

stealing this from @glorious-spoon because it looks fun - essentially a q&a for fanfic writers. tagging @elisedonut, @broomsticks, @felixantares, @certifiedbisexualdisaster and whoever else feels like doing it!

How many works do you have on AO3?

75.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

254,450 words.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Mostly my Percy stuff with my most popular shadowhunters work thrown into the mix.

a study of cracked gold (1662)

everything not black and blue (1311)

whispers got nothing on the truth (1058)

why do i care at all (495)

falling from dusk into dawn (408)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Ideally, I would love to respond to comments, but practically I don't because they pile up, I get busy and stressed. It's often a choice between replying and writing - I normally chose writing. But I do read and appreciate all my (non-rude) comments.

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

the storm howls, and everything turns to ashes is absolutely brutal malec MCD I wrote for Shadowhunters Ficlet Instruments in 2019.

On par with this is:

Imelda finding her husband's dead body: if i fall

Magnus forgetting Alec: i miss all the times we had

All the Blacks dying: dreaming of a happy ending

Writing stories with tragic endings is fun!

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

A lot of my fics sit in the grey area of happy endings but not like, butterflies and rainbow. It's hard to say.

If pushed, I would say i just want to be wanted. It's a relatively light pining get-together malec fic at ~3.7k that ends with them getting together. I say it's my happiest because it has a clean, tidy resolution, without lingering existential angst.

7. Do you write a cross-overs?

I have written cross-overs. I have day-dreamt about cross-overs. I have not yet published any.

Mishmashing different fandoms is really fun. The Old Guard x Shadowhunters fic with Magnus running into the immortals in 17th century England and saving Quynh with his magical skills... I love the idea. Be great to write at someday.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not outright death-threats or the like, but I've had weird, entitled comments.

The most akin to a hate comment was someone disliking my fic because I made a disparaging comment about 1984 in it. That was weird.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No. Just not my thing.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

12. Have you co-written a fic before?

Also no.

13. What's your all time favourite ship?

I do not have one, overall. The perils of having multiple fandoms.

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but think you never will?

My malec wwii AU. It's 42k and contains some really good writining, but it would take so much effort to make it publishable.

Also, that is the angstiest ending I've ever written. I wrote a lot just for that ending.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I am very good at generating ideas and writing introspection, particularly of the existential nature. This helps a lot when writing character studies!

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. And long plotty stuff. Fuck dialogue, it always feels so... stilted and awkward.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in fic?

If it is small phrases like si, senora, ciao, that's fine. I write a little Spanish in my Coco fic, following the style of the movie. But I'm not going to go into full blown sentences - the characters in my Coco fics are definitely speaking Spanish, but my grasp of Spanish is not good enough + it's generally confusing for most readers.

18. What's the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? Harry Potter in 2017, buried at the back of my AO3 page. Written? Total Drama. It exists, somewhere.

19. What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The Old Guard! Feels like a fun sandbox to explore and I think the fandom is cool (all the drama had boiled off before I watched the movie last year).

20. What's your favourite fic that you've written?

falling from dusk into dawn because it's my longest published fic, it was a labour of love, and I'm really proud of its construction.

[detective-luca-montoya]

Miraculous/CCE AU

A drabble based off of a random idea I thought of! In this AU, Lawrence is Hawk Moth, mourning the loss of his wife, the former wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous. When Marshall accidentally becomes the new holder of the Ladybug Miraculous, Lawrence becomes obsessed with capturing it (and him) in order to wish his wife back to life and have the perfect family. Along with Nathan (Black Cat) and Sadie (Pigella), Marshall defends the city from harm while staying one step ahead of his villainous "father". In this crossover, Luca is a sentibeing created by the Peacock Miraculous as a surrogate daughter for Lawrence. Might write more if the mood strikes me!

Lawrence belongs to @montammil, Luca belongs to me!

"Duusu, spread my feathers."

The transformation is nearly instantaneous, his Lawrence Agreste veneer melting away to be replaced by the sleek purple suit of Shadow Moth, the peacock Miraculous now sitting neatly at the nape of his neck. An extravagant feathered fan materializes into one hand, the jeweled staff of Nooroo in the other. He throws it aside; it's not what he needs.

He instead plucks a single snow-white feather from the fan, cradling it gently in his palm as if it might blow away at the slightest sudden movement. He folds his fingers over it, murmuring not just to his kwami, but to the very universe itself. "Rise, my beautiful amok..."

A flicker of blue light, beautiful and fragile like a candle flame, shivers into existence in his clenched fist. His guilt and rage and pain pours forth, pooling in the feather and turning it that particular shade of dark indigo. His voice turns hard, authoritative, ringing across the cavernous room with the desperation of a man who has nothing left to lose. The voice of a future monarch. "Take shape and bring my creation to life!"

The shapeless cloud of butterflies takes human form without a second thought. He's imagined, dreamt, planned this for so long, pored over Nadia's portrait and saw each and every detail in his mind's eye. His nose. Nadia's eyes, her smile. His wit, her kindness. Old enough to not need constant supervision, but far from an independent adult. Intelligent, loyal, perfect.

The energy of emotion, all of his will and grief and pain, placed into the symbols of their everlasting union. Unending even in death. He puts his wedding ring back on his finger.

"I am your father, Lawrence Agreste."

Threading Nadia's ring onto a thin silver chain, he fastens it around the being- child's- neck. It stares at him, blinking slowly, uncomprehending expression slowly gaining sapience. Lawrence steps back.

"You will be the perfect child Nadia and I have always wanted."

Cold, blank eyes turn warm and familiar. The child- his child- looks up at him, and smiles.

"Yes, Father."

[stahlop]

Oh man @stahlop ! How do I choose which ones to ask about? I love your “Ready to Run” fic, so I will always happily hear more about it. But I am also curious about the ones titled “FWB pregnancy”, “Bodyguard AU” (yes please!!!), “Emma figured out Graham’s death”, and “Waitress AU”. I know that’s probably too many, so just take your pick and tell me about whichever one you would like! 😍

Unfortunately, I don't have anything else written for Ready to Run yet. But I'm very much looking forward to the scene where after the engagement party where Killian calls Emma a lost girl and she tells him he's a lost boy. That was one of my main reasons why I thought this movie would work so well for them.

FWB Pregnancy is totally written, I just need to revise and edit, and then find a beta. But here is a snippet.

“How did I not know you went to college in New York?” Liam says, shaking his head. “My brother went to college out there too.” It’s at this point that Emma becomes acutely aware that besides the fact that Liam has never once informed her he has a brother, that he has also never mentioned said brother’s name, and the hairs on the back of her neck start prickling. How many British Jones could have been in college at the same time as her? And now that she looks at him, Liam could have a resemblance to Killian, or maybe she’s just projecting.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Ah, that must be, Killian,” Liam says heading over towards the door.

Shit!

Exactly how many British Killian Jones’ went to college in New York?

“This is my apartment, Liam.” Emma hisses as she elbows him out of the way. There are butterflies in her stomach and she almost feels like she might throw up. It’s been 10 years since she’s seen Killian. What the hell is she supposed to say to him?

Emma throws open the door ready to meet Killian’s beautiful, blue eyes, and she does, only they’re on a small child who looks like he was getting ready to knock again, his hand held frozen in the air. He pauses, slightly taken aback, and Emma notices his dark, unruly hair and one eyebrow raised in a familiar pose. “Are you Emma Swan?” The boy asks.

The Bodyguard AU came to me in the shower one day. I can't even tell you the last time I watched the movie, yet I couldn't get it out of head. It's only a summary and ideas right now, and I can only give you the barest pieces of the summary because otherwise I'll give away too much plot.

Emma is a pop singer, Killian her bodyguard. Henry was conceived when she was 17 with Neal when he was 23 and it had to be swept under the rug as she was up and coming and he was the head of the music studio's son. She left Gold Records and went to Robin Hood Records.

For Emma figuring out Graham's death, I literally only have the first few lines written. It's been rattling around in my head for awhile.

It was after they finished kissing in the hallway. After they had raced into his room at Granny’s. After they had made love for the first time (and the second time), and after they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, it finally hit Emma. She woke up with a start, the weight of what her dream had revealed to her on her chest. Not a dream, but a memory.

She’d dreamt of Graham.

I literally have nothing for the Waitress AU except who I want to play which characters. And, of course, it would have a happier ending for Emma and Killian instead of Emma leaving him and him being married like in the movie.

[bobbys-naughty-corner]

My very first fluff

Bokuto x reader (college au)

Warnings: fluff. Just something I dreamt of.

Why was it so hard to keep his eyes off you? It frustrated him so much to watch you. Looking at you dance, laugh and have fun with friends. Why did he even care about you anyways? Bokuto sipped the liquor from his cup and looked away. He could hear your distinct laughter over the music and large chattering crowd. He shouldn’t even be looking at other girls. But you, boy oh boy, you were... ugh! Bokuto hated that he even liked you. Hated when he’d stutter, blush or even laugh at random times if you even said a word to him. He hated that he even compared you to his girlfriend. The girl he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with. Someone he didn’t have to worry about while in separate school. But now he questioned if he loved her or thought it was easier to date someone just to fill in the romance in his life. He wasn’t looking for someone then but when she had asked him he said yes. See he didn’t get the same butterflies he did with you. He didn’t even blush when she flirted. It honestly felt like a forced relationship that was tearing down. He loved his girlfriend. He did! He prioritized her just like she wanted, did anything for her, treated her like a Queen. She was his queen, but why did his heart throb when he smelt your perfume? Why did he break out in sweat any time you approached? It was weird. So weird. Wasn’t that supposed to happen with his girlfriend? No, no maybe he just wasn’t seeing her the way he should. Maybe it’s the long distance. The time apart, the arguing, the ghosting. Yeah that could be it. Bokuto chugged the rest of his drink and disappeared into the party.

Your pov

I was having a blast. College parties were fun but it did feel a bit uncomfortable. I felt like someone was watching me. My friends hand me a small shot glass and I raised my brow at the small solo cup. “It’s plastic.” I said. “Girl whatever just take the shot and then find some blue bin to put it in.” My roommate rolled her eyes. I swallowed the shot and shivered as the hard liquor rolled down my throat. It stung and tasted horrible. I hated flavored liquor and I’m sure she gave me just that. I handed her the cup and she put another in my hand. “Again?” I complained but still took it. “Yeah we all have two!” She said taking hers. I tossed the drink back and scrunched my face. “Yuck!” I said aloud, smacking my lips. “Now let’s go!” My roommate put the cups on some random table and dragged the whole group deeper into the party.

I stumbled around the frat trying to find an exit. It was late, I was tired, hungry and drunk. I don’t even know how I’m going to make it to my dorm. I tripped over someone’s foot and hit someone with my head. “I’m sorry!” I said rubbing my head. When the person turned around I could barely make out their face. The light, intoxication and music distorted everything. “Y-YN?” The voice was very familiar. “Yeah. Who’reyou?” I asked trying to stand still but I could feel my body moving around as if my feet weren’t flat on the ground. “Are you okay?” They ignored my question. But I did too. “I think I had too much to drink.” I admitted. “Trying to get to my bed so I could sleep. It’s like 2 am.” I looked at my imaginary watch and then back to the person. I squinted my eyes hoping my vision would clear up. I vaguely made out the yellow eyes, spiked hair, and bleached tips. They were tall. My mind tried to remember who was built like them. “Bokuto! That’s your name right?” I said aloud. “Yeah, I sit behind you in Psychology.” I nodded finally remembering everything I knew about him. Which wasn’t much since we barely spoke to one another. “Well I guess I’ll see you in class Tuesday.” I tried walking pass him but he stopped me. Using his arm to block my path. “I-I’ll walk you back.” He offered. Well more like he stated. I looked up at him and nodded. I grabbed his hand, “okay walking buddy, lead the way.” I said. His fingers squeezed my hand and tried to let go. Not happening. If I let go and blink he’ll be gone. Bokuto stayed still and I groaned. I pulled him to the exit and weaved pass bodies. Holding his hand tightly so he wouldn’t get separated.

I swung our arms back and forth as I damn near skipped beside him. “Did you have fun?” I asked him. “Uh, y-yeah I guess.” He said. Avoiding any eye contact with me. “Oh really. I know you was hugging that wall. You didn’t even look comfortable. I guess that why you want to walk back to the dorms. Well lucky for you, I’m here to take you back safely.” I cheered. “Actually I’m walking you back. And I guess I’m just out of it tonight.” He confessed. “Oh boohoo. You’re in college, your fun is finally here. I’ve seen how you act around your friends all loud and energetic. You were supposed to be the main one swinging from that ugly ass chandelier.” I said to him. I heard him chuckle and smiled at him. “But seriously you shouldn’t drown your feelings with alcohol. Let’s talk about it. We got a bit of a walk.” I moved closer to him and hugged his arm. Bokuto stayed silent though until he sighed. “I, I have, I haven’t been doing too well in class.” He dropped his head. “Oh come on! That can’t be it. Everyone in there is probably failing a class. I’m failing math but that shit is super hard and I didn’t buy textbook. I think I know what it is.” I poked his arm and pressed my body against him more. Bokuto blushed and tried to hold up my weight and walk at the same time. “Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked. I pulled away from him and waited on his answer. He nodded his head. “Is she here?” I continued to ask simple questions leading into more detailed questions.

“Do you talk everyday?”

“She’s not talking to me right now.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.

“Do you still love her?”

“Yes... maybe. Idk it’s like the feels are going away.” There it was. He began to rant. “When we both started college everything was great. We’d talk everyday, shared our schedules, even had online dates. But now she barely replies back, says she’s in class even after school hours. Last month she ghosted me for a week and said that her phone got hacked and she lost my number. How could you lose my number when you made me remember yours. Ugh! She drives me crazy. I want to love her but I’m stuck. It’s like there’s nothing to love. She slipped from my hands and I have no clue where she’s going.” He concluded. Wow. That’s tough. I rubbed his back and tried to encourage him. “Oh don’t worry. Give her time if you think she’s worth the wait. Every woman has her own struggle.” I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I don’t think that she is. And I don’t want to think I used her. I thought she was perfect for me. Then someone else came along and she started to drift, I don’t know.” Wait, someone else? “As in some guy came into her life?” I asked but he shook his head. “Oooooh you like someone. Juicy. Would you like to hear my advice?” I asked. I made us stop so he could listen. “I think, this could be the liquor talking but I think you should break up. If you still feel a connection then wait for the right time to fix that relationship. But if your heart says something else then you should listen to yourself. No knows you better than you, and your body wouldn’t put itself in harms way.” I rubbed his arms and looked into his eyes. He didn’t look drunk. But how could I tell, I’m so close to just dropping to the ground. “I’ve never been in a relationship though and I don’t know your situation all that well but I know when my heart tells me something I don’t always have to listen. But sometimes the heart wants what it wants. Plus most relationships don’t last when people enter college anyway. Just a fact.” I told him. I wish I had my glasses, I could see better with them on.

At the dorm I literally remembered that I didn’t bring my key or ID. “Sooo, I actually can’t get to my room...” I said, partially embarrassed. “You can stay in my dorm. I have a single room.” He offered. My eyes lit up and my smile spread across my face. I just wanted to lay down. He led me to another dorm building and let me in. His room was on the 4th floor all the way at the end. Inside was neat. Although his volleyball obsession was very clear from the posters all over his wall. When my eyes landed on his bed I immediately jumped on it. The bed was high, he must’ve done that because he was tall. Bokuto sat on the other side and kicks his shoes off. Mine fell off my feet when I jumped. “I’m going to shower.” He said. My body shot up. I wanted to shower too. Ugh I wish I was in my room! Bokuto looked at me surprised that I got up so quickly. “Do you want to take a shower after me? I can give you clean clothes.” He got off the bed and looked through his Chester to find something for me. “You’re so nice!” I said rolling around his large bed.

Bokuto pov

What was I doing?! GFN would kill me if she knew I had a girl in my room. I can’t tell her. No one knows. I’m sure YN would even forget being in here. I pulled out a sweatshirt and shorts I practice in. When I turned back YN was standing at my mirror, making faces. How could she be so cute? “Did you dance with anyone?” She asked me. “No. Here wear this. You can shower before or after. I have extra towels.” She ignored what I said and shook her ass in the mirror. My eyes glued to her butt. Watching her dress rise up showing the colorful panty she wore. Fuck! It was hard to look away. It was hard to stop getting hard. You stood up and came over to me. I held the clothes out to you and you took it but put it down. You entangled your hand in mine and spun yourself into my chest. Moving you hips against my crotch. “Dance with me.” You said twirling around like a drunk. You were drunk. “I have a girlfriend.” I said without thinking. You frowned but then smiled. “See that. Loyalty. You should try calling her. Probably before your shower.” You dropped my hand and walked to the bed. You looked sad and disappointed.

Your pov

Who was I kidding? He has a girlfriend which you told him to break up with. Fucking Dumbass.

It was quiet and awkward after we both showered. No one spoke. We laid far away from each other. Practically falling off the bed as we both slept at the edge. I kept the blanket on my legs since I wore a sweater. Bokuto wore a white shirt with shorts. He was probably asleep too. I moved around in the bed, vey uncomfortable and hot. The sweater smelled just like him, so did the bed and the whole room. I sat up and looked at Bokuto’s back. Don’t turn around. I quickly took the sweater off and fell back into the bed. I quickly got under the blanket before he turned over. “Are you okay?” He asked. I held the blanket under my neck leaving no room for him to see what I did. I nodded my head and turned around. What time is it? I swear I always tired earlier. Why am I not asleep now? Bokuto put his hand on the back of my neck and I shivered. “You’re cold.” He stated. His hand wrapped around my waist and pulled me back to him. I squeaked and blushed. He was most definitely warm and I most definitely didn’t have a top on. His body cuddled mine. Pressing against me and squeezing me. God, why did you let my life play out like this. “Can I tell you something?” He asked me. “Yeah. I’m listening.” I said still with my back to him. “I spoke to GFN. She explained why she wasn’t replying back.” His arm pulled me closer and I could literally hear the pain in his voice. Did she cheat? Are they over with? Why am so excited about this? “What did she say?” I wanted to hug him but I just rubbed the arm that wrapped around me. “She said she wanted to break up.” He paused. “Then she told me why. She’s pregnant. She’s been going to the hospital and that’s why she’s been avoiding me.” What a turn of events. I really wasn’t expecting that. I slowly turned around making sure I still covered my chest. I hugged him softly and he hugged back. “She doesn’t deserve you.” I said. “Maybe this the sign you need to listen to your heart. I’m sure the next person will treasure you.” I felt his hands on my back. They were so big, his fingers spread out but then they ball into a fist against by my skin. Bokuto quickly and smoothly puts me on my back and kisses me. I gasped and he put his tongue in my mouth. “Mmph!” His body was way too heavy for me to push off. His tongue tried to get mine to move but when I didn’t he pulled away. “I-I I’m sorry!” I was shocked. Too shocked to kiss back. “You’ve been so nice and understanding I just-“ I cut him off. “Sex with a stranger won’t lead to closure.” I told him. “To me you’re not a stranger. I like you. A lot. The moment I saw you in class my heart just wanted to be next to you. I didn’t feel the same way about my girlfriend. I thought about you more than her. You are so fun and goofy. I thought that it was your body and the separation but the more I gave it thought the more I realized I’m in love with you.” He confessed. What? Huh?

My blush wasn’t as visible as his but I was still flustered. This has to be one of the most awkward confessions I’ve ever got. But I just so happen to like him too. He’s handsome, funny, tall, Athletic, I mean come on. He has such an extraordinary quality about him that just makes people around him look up to him and admire him. He’s smart, social, caring, just an all around amazing person. His eyes trailed lower and his face turned red. Eyes wide and alert as he gazed at my chest. I quickly folded my arms and he looked back up. As if his brain rebooted he sat up and moved. “I’m sorry.” He apologized again. He got up and headed for his door. “W-where are you going?!” I said aloud. “To let you sleep.” He opened his door and nearly closed it before I could even finish my sentence. “I don’t want to sleep alone!” I yelled. The door cracked open and the light from the hallway peered in. “I like you too but-“ he opened the door wider and was crying. He ran and tackled me on his bed. Crushing my body under his.

Narrative pov

Bokuto didn’t care if he didn’t have anyone. He truly wanted someone to relate to, to laugh at his corny jokes, give him the time of day. He didn’t want to be an accessory or molded into the perfect boyfriend. You were right for him. He knew it, he felt it. You tapped his arm to let him know that you wanted him up. “Can I finish?” You asked covering your chest with the blanket. Bokuto nodded, he’d listen to anything you say like it was his favorite radio station. “I do like you too. Love is a strong word and I’ve told you I’ve never been in a relationship so as much as my heart flutters with joy and aches with excitement to hear you like me too, I have to at least have some time. Time to see how we’d work together, time to prepare myself, time to dedicate myself to you. You play volleyball, that may be in the way of having a relationship. So we can have a trial of one month and if things go smoothly then I would love to be your girlfriend. That is if you want to start dating. If you just want sex then Imma leave because I don’t tolerate drunk sex.” “YN if it takes a year for you to feel ready then I’ll be waiting the whole year.” He kissed the back of my hand and leaned in for a hug. “Can I get your number?” Bokuto asked you. He went to get his phone so you can put them digits in.

[bijvoorbeeldja]

Swimmer!Sander AU Part Three

Part 1/Part 2

......

Sander had been texting Robbe all weekend. 

He’d just gotten home after that first swim lesson, taking a quick shower to rinse the chlorine out of his hair. When he’d tiptoed back into his room (Jens was already asleep and Robbe could hear the low hum of his snores through their shared wall), Robbe’s phone lit up and buzzed on the bed. Rubbing the towel through his hair, Robbe opened the message.

Sander: Good work today. You’ll be beating me in no time! ;-)

Robbe had smiled, shaking his head. The whole evening hadn’t felt real somehow. But in his head, the images of Sander holding his hands, helping him patiently through the water….those were all too real. He couldn’t have dreamt them. 

His fingers hovered over his keys, trying to decide how fast to respond. He didn’t want to seem overeager. Even though...he was. He really was.

He started typing.

Robbe: Yeah, it doesn’t matter HOW many lessons you give me. I’ll never be as good as you! 

Almost immediately, Sander was typing back, the three dots dancing on his screen. Robbe waited, breathless. Then, a buzz.

Sander: It’s true! You’re a fast learner.

He was typing again.

Sander: But to be honest, I don’t want you to learn too fast…

Robbe swallowed, trying to coat the dryness in his throat and quell the butterflies leaping in his stomach.

Robbe: Why’s that?

Sander: You know why.

Robbe just sat down on his bed, holding the phone to his chest.

You know why.

……..

“Whoa, you look nice. You going out tonight?” Jens was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, leaning against the frame, watching as Robbe was patting down his hair, trying to tame the rogue strands into submission. 

Robbe smiled, embarrassed now. 

“It’s nothing,” Robbe said, but his voice betrayed him on the word, ensuring that he hoped it was going to be much more than nothing. “Just getting drinks.”

“With who?” Jens asked, enthusiastically curious now. 

Robbe hesitated. If he told Jens who it was, he’d have to explain about the swim lessons and he was not prepared for the level of teasing he knew would come. 

“Just somebody I met last week,” Robbe said nonchalantly, wetting his fingers under the faucet and going at his hair again. “We’ll see if it goes anywhere.”

“Hmmm,” Jens answered, smirking. “Okay, keep your new man a mystery. Just make sure you two...play it safe.” He winked at Robbe, who blushed crimson. 

“Jens!” Robbe whined at him as he turned and headed back to his room, still smiling. 

Glancing one more time at his reflection, he took a deep breath and pulled out his chat with Sander.

Robbe: Leaving now. See you in 10?

Sander responded quickly.

Sander: See you in 10. Can’t wait. 

…..

Outside the bar, Robbe locked his bike and wiped his clammy hands on his pants, trying to level his breathing. The closer he’d gotten to the bar, the more nervous he felt. But excited, too.

Heading to the entrance, he spotted Sander through the window, seated at a table. When he saw Robbe, his face lit up in a warm smile. God, he was just as cute with clothes on, Robbe thought before he could stop himself.

“Hey, there,” Sander said, as Robbe approached the table. He bit his lip as he glanced lightning-quick at Robbe head to toe.

“Hey,” Robbe said, his voice cracking slightly. “Have you been waiting here long?”

“Not long,” Sander smiled again. He was wearing blue jeans and his leather jacket, a white shirt tucked in underneath. His bleached hair was still slightly damp and Robbe tried to look away from where his eyes were naturally wandering — the way his clothes pulled tight over his muscles, the lean lines of his jaw. And damn, he smelled so good. 

“So, are you sore?” Sander asked, breaking Robbe’s gaze.

“Er...what?” He asked, blinking.

Sander laughed. “From the lessons? Are you sore?”

“Oh, right,” Robbe said, nodding, trying to focus. “No, not too sore. Maybe a little stiff in my arms, but not bad.”

Sander smiled, “Good. I hope I wasn’t too hard on you.”

Robbe swallowed. Why was this conversation making him sweat?

“No,” he said, meeting Sander’s gaze. “You weren’t t-too hard.”

“Good,” Sander said, smiling again. Robbe couldn’t look away. It was like Sander’s smile was holding him hostage and he couldn't breathe.

“So how about that beer?” Sander spoke again, smiling at Robbe through his daze.

“Right, yeah,” Robbe said, turning to walk towards the counter. “I did promise you a drink. I’m on it.”

“Oh, and IJzermans?” Sander said, calling back to him as he walked away.

“Yeah?” Robbe said, turning back. 

“You look good tonight.”

…….

By Friday night, the night of their next swimming lesson, Robbe had replayed every moment of their date in his mind a thousand times. 

He couldn’t think about anything else except the way Sander smiled at everything Robbe said, flashing perfect teeth and glittering green eyes, or the way his touch was warm when Robbe handed him his drink and their fingers brushed. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how easy and comfortable it was talking to Sander, how they’d eased so naturally into a back-and-forth with no hint of uncomfortable or awkward silence. Sander had told Robbe about how he’d started swimming as a kid, and always dreamed of the Olympics. But the older he got, and the more intense the training became, the less joy he felt in the water. He’d noticeably blushed when he’d revealed that his swimming lesson with Robbe had been the most relaxed he’d felt in a long time.

Reliving their conversations in his mind still made Robbe smile, warmth spreading through his body as he remembered. He was still smiling as he entered the pool building, pulling his bag tighter over his shoulder. He couldn’t wait to get back in the water. 

He’d gotten there a few minutes early, and decided to get in the pool and warm up before Sander arrived, eager to practice the strokes from the first lesson. Stripping to his swimsuit, he jumped in. 

The coldness of the water shocked him again, but only for a brief moment before his body adjusted and he let the fluidity calm him. As he pushed off the side of the pool, he struggled for a moment to find his stroke. His limbs felt awkward, and his breath not yet rhythmic the way Sander had shown him. But he kept going, using the strength of his arms to propel him forward. Finally, he found his stride, gliding effortlessly now. It felt so good.

Robbe continued back and forth across the pool lane until his arms ached and he was out of breath. He held on to the edge, catching his breath. Still no sign of Sander. He glanced at the clock on the wall, which displayed a bright 21:20. 

I hope he’s okay, Robbe thought, trying to ignore the worry creeping inside of him. He tried to keep practicing his strokes, but he only got in one more lap before he pulled himself out of the pool and checked his phone. No messages from Sander.

He opened their chat and fired off a quick message.

Robbe: Hey, everything okay? I’m here

Robbe held the phone, waiting. Water dripped off of his hair and limbs, pooling on the tile beneath him. He started to shiver as the room’s AC chilled his damp skin. The message was left unread and Robbe sat down to wrap himself in a towel. Minutes went by, and still nothing. 

Robbe: I’m fine to reschedule our lesson if something came up. I just want to make sure you’re okay?

God, way to look desperate, Robbe, he scolded himself. As the minutes ticked by, Robbe felt more anxious, trying to keep himself from shaking. Finally, he stood up and started to pull his clothes on, his swimsuit underneath instantly dampening them. It was no use waiting here. Sander wasn’t coming.

…….

“Robbe, don’t be lame!” Amber whined, pouting as the rest of the group looked on.

It was Sunday and his friends were going to another swim meet, eager to watch Sander again. Just thinking his name made Robbe’s stomach drop. 

“You have to come, man,” Jens said, clapping him on the shoulder. He was trying to be enthusiastic, but his voice was soft as he looked at Robbe. He had noticed how down Robbe had been around their flat the last day or two and didn’t want to leave him alone to wallow. “We want you to come with us. It won’t be the same without you.”

Robbe appreciated Jen’s sensitivity, but he just didn’t think he could face Sander now. He’d never responded to Robbe’s messages on Friday, and since then, a host of destructive thoughts were taking over his mind. Surely, Sander had second-guessed the time they’d spent together and had to get away.

Sander was too busy to spend time with some stupid boy.

Robbe had freaked him out on their date (had it even been a date?) and didn’t want to see him again.

Robbe was acting too desperate. 

Surely Sander thought Robbe was stalking him.

He was just giving you swim lessons. Nothing more. 

These thoughts were playing on a painful loop inside Robbe’s mind and he couldn’t escape them. He felt so stupid. He couldn’t even tell his friends what was really wrong. They’d never believe him. And if they did, they’d get mad at him for somehow managing to ruin his chance with Sander.

His chance. He’d never even had that in the first place.

“So c’mon, we’re going,” Jana spoke up suddenly, pulling Robbe by the shoulder. “We’ll get you food after, Jens’ treat.”

“Hey!” Jens said, laughing as he caught up to them.

……

Robbe was wringing his hands so violently he had to stuff them in his pockets to stop. Walking into the pool again made his stomach drop, violently twisting as the memories of him and Sander here, in the dark of the night, flooded over him like a wave. He’d never be able to think about this place the same way again.

He followed behind his friends, trying to let their excited chatter about the meet distract him. He kept his head low, avoiding anyone’s gaze and forcing himself to not to do precisely the thing he wanted to: look for the tall, blonde-haired boy. 

Claiming a spot on the bleachers, he tucked himself into a row behind the girls, who were now discussing who Sander’s competition in the race would be. 

“....doesn’t even have a chance,” he heard Jana say, finishing her thought confidently. 

“But it really sucks,” Jana said, continuing. “Sander’s performance might be off today.”

Robbe looked up at her, trying to understand. He couldn’t help himself.

“Why do you say that?” He asked Jana, trying to mask his deep interest.

Jana turned to him. “Didn’t you hear?” As if he were as well-versed in Sander’s private life as every girl (and probably every boy) in their town was. As Robbe wished he was.  

But she continued. “Sander’s coach found out he went out on a date last week. He’s not supposed to date during his training because it’s supposedly ‘distracting,’” she did air quotes with her fingers, looking annoyed. “So when his coach found out, he put him on an even more intense training schedule and took away his phone. I swear, that guy is such a dictator. Maybe Sander doesn’t even want to go to the Olympics…”

Robbe didn’t know how Jana knew that information, but hearing it made Robbe’s skin go cold. That’s why Sander hadn’t shown up, or answered his messages. And now things were worse for Sander, and it was his fault.

Without thinking, he looked up at the starting lanes where the swimmers were starting to gather, focusing hard as their coaches hyped them up with enthusiastic pep talks. 

Immediately, a pair of eyes met his. Sander. Fierce and intense, Sander was staring directly at Robbe, silently trying to communicate across the room. He knew his friends were noticing this, but he couldn’t look away.

“Is he...is Sander looking over here?” Jana asked, questioning. “It looks like he’s looking at you...Robbe.”

Well, Robbe thought, I guess I have some explaining to do.

…...

[howi99]

I dreamt of a blue butterfly part 1

"I dreamt of a blue butterfly. There was a room, covered in clocks, but none of them were working. A man was there, he spoke of a contract i needed to sign." "What did it say?"

"That i should bear all responsibility for my own actions."

"Did you sign it?" "Without esitation."

____________

Jaune wasn't ready for initiation. After all, he lied and cheated just to get a chance he could be accepted in Beacon.

"Man, why couldn't i dream of becoming a policeman instead?" He said. "Everyone seems so much more in shape than i, that's almost unfair. I train everyday and i can't even compare to most of them." He sighs "I guess i shouldn't complain too much..."

"Oi!" Ruby, a girl he helped yesterday, is waving at him. "Did you get your stuff?" Jaune: "y-yeah, of course! at least i think i got everything?" Crocea Mors, the weapon of his ancestor, was resting against his hip. To be fair, it wasn't as if he knew how to use the damn thing. as of right now, a metal pipe would be as usefull as it, maybe even more so since he would cut himself with it at least. "you know where's the initiation at?" "I mean, if i had to guess, it<s where everyone's going... i think." She look around, sudenly picking up on something "My sister is waving at me. Follow me, Vomit boy!"

"That nickname is really going to stick, eh?" He shrug, it's not like his sisters didn't came with even worse one "I'm right behind y-" A flash of pain course trough his brain, memory from his dream coming back to him. "Your's is the power to change fate. To see new perspective." As soon as the memory came, it stoped. "hey, you're ok?" Ruby asked "You spaced out for a second there"

"U-uh? oh uh, yeah, i'm good. Must be the stress or something" He shake his head "Was remebering a weird dream." Ruby shuckle "Yeah, i get what you mean." As they both were walking to meet with Yang, Ruby's sister, a Blue butterfly passed in front of them.

Jaune didn't really pay it any attention.

[blazerina]

Ethically Questionable // Open Heart AU // Chapter 1

Miami Heat // Ethan x Maggie (MC)

Word Count: 4458

A/N: This is chapter one of our Ethically Questionable AU that @parkerattano & I dreamt up late one evening. I literally thought I dreamt the conversation when I talked with her about it the next morning. Check out the moodboard below that she put together – isn’t she amazing? Mad props to her because all of this is pretty much her idea, I’m just putting a few words out there to help everyone else get to experience this amazing HC of hers. There is plenty more to come and we are just getting started with the drama. We’ve hyped it up a lot because we are Tumblr besties and super excited but we really do think you’ll enjoy the ride too!

Check out our hype posts HERE,  & HERE.

Let us know what you think – chapter two will be coming soon!

EQ AU tag list: @mvalentine​ / @choicesobsessedd​ / @dulcehernandez​ / @missmiimiie​ / @edgiestwinter​ / @junehiratas​ / @binny1985​ / @datynasuha​ / @unluckygs / @trinittyy​ / @lilyvalentine​ / @honeyandsunfl0wers​ / @lucy-268​ / @choices-love-affair​ / @parkerattano / @queencarb / @custaroonie / @mkamra2355 / @humanpokemon / @ramseysno1rookie /@unknowntimelady / @myusualnerdyself / @schnitzelbutterfinger / @mvalentine / @jasminedayz / @thanialis / @tefigranger / @kenzierookie / @justanotherrookie / @keepcreativechoices / @heauxplesslydevoted / @ethandaddyramsey / @kaavyaethanramsey / @sherlockedmcu / @edith-eggs1 / @noboundariesplease / @edgiestwinter / @danysims4cc / @tempesreture / @unusualvisionsblog / @chasingrobbie / @mapipa / @lifeof-liv / @3riche-blog / @anonymous2094 / @annaidziaszczyk / @ntoraplayschoices / @jessirosebud / @mskinkyafro / @caseyvalentineramsey /@desmaranj / @trappedinfandoms / @lucy-268 /

*If you asked to be on my Ethan tag list, I just added you here -- but let me know if you wish to be removed! Or added in that case!*

“A world-renowned doctor at a top hospital thinks you’re the best intern. Most people would kill to be you.”

Bryce’s words from yesterday echoed loudly in Maggie’s head as she stared out the window of the plane on the way to Miami. She could hardly contain her excitement. He thinks I’m the best intern…she thought to herself as she replayed her conversation with Bryce for the thousandth time. Dr. Ramsey had chosen her.  That meant he saw something in her.  To him, she was already special.  Now, she just needed to capitalize on it.

On the outside, of course, she was trying to present herself to Dr. Ramsey as a polished, professional, put-together intern – but on the inside she was bubbling over with enthusiasm for this quick two-day trip.

Maggie truly felt like the luckiest girl in the world.  This hard-working, smart-mouthed kid from upstate New York was selected by her mentor and current crush, Dr. Ethan Ramsey.  He had been the whole reason she wanted to become a doctor in the first place.  In her freshman AP Biology class when her teacher, Mrs. Hart, asked the class to read one of his journal articles for extra-credit, she Googled him immediately, wanting to digest as much information about him as possible.

Her friends would tease her about the fact that instead of teen heartthrob pictures posted on the inside of her locker, she had medical journal titles and Dr. Ramsey quotes. No one understood her high esteem and true admiration for him. She was confident when she applied to medical school that she would be competitive at Edenbrook, but she felt even more confident as of late. Now that she was number one and Dr. Ramsey’s clear favorite, everything was right in her world. The only thing that would make it better would be a searing gaze, a brush of his fingertips, hearing Dr. Ramsey call her by name and not “Valentine” or “Rookie…”  

She was daydreaming again as she watched the snow-white clouds dance along the deep blue sky. The plane was about 30 minutes from landing. She was able to finally admit to herself that she had butterflies in her stomach.  Could it be true that she had caught Dr. Ramsey looking at her differently lately? Had he actually started to smile a bit when he saw her for rounds every morning? Could it be that she was impressing him not only with her intellect but with her physical assets too? Is there any chance he could, maybe be, attracted to her?

Maggie’s imagination got carried away, thinking about this conference. She’d at least get to share a meal or two with him, maybe there would be a chance for them to get dressed up. Maggie planned ahead and brought a killer dress for just that kind of opportunity. She would make sure Dr. Ramsey got to see even more of her, um, “assets” and she’d get to see what makes him tick outside of the stuffy hospital. They’d dance alone on the beach; he’d declare his never-ending love for her and then at sunset they’d kiss…

“Aaahhh!” she let out a soft cry of surprise as the plane suddenly lurched up and down. Maggie reached for the armrest to clutch it tightly, forgetting that Dr. Ramsey was seated next to her, and his hand was already occupying the space between them.

In an instant her hand grasped his as her eyes grew wide, not because of the turbulence but because of the feel of his skin on hers. Something she had only dreamed about up until this very moment.

He had been reading and with his free hand removed his glasses, staring at her with a questioning look upon his face.

“Maggie.” He stated, matter-of-factly, but Maggie swore he said it breathlessly.

“Maggie.” He repeated.

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey?” She looked deep into his eyes now, hoping her longing and desire for him was evident in her eyes too.

“May I have my hand back, please?”

She immediately released her hold and smiled sheepishly. The Ethan Ramsey smirk appeared on his face briefly as she pulled her hand away.

“Of course.”

When he spoke to her, she hung on his every word, no matter what it was he was saying. However, Maggie had learned by now to keep her answers short and to the point.

“Thank you again for asking me to accompany you on this trip, Dr. Ramsey.  It’s my first large conference and I know we’re going to have a wonderful time! I’m thankful, truly, I am.” She smiled, trying to make things less awkward.

“Yes, yes. So you’ve said. No less than a dozen times now.  And as I have said before, don’t thank me, just do what you’re told. This is a work trip not a vacation. You’d do well to remember that fact, Dr. Valentine.”

The way he slowly emphasized Dr. Valentine sent shivers down Maggie’s spine. Did he know what he was doing to her? It was little lines like this, where the tone and pace of his voice changed, that made her think – no, believe – that he was indeed beginning to develop feelings for her.

Maggie nodded and returned her gaze to the window as he pulled his hand off the armrest. He cleared his throat as he settled back into the chair, recoiling a bit and trying to focus again on his reading material. Soon they’d be on land once more. If Maggie wanted any semblance of a decent relationship with Dr. Ramsey, she’d have to take advantage of opportunities to remind him that she wasn’t just THE number one intern. She was HIS number one intern.  She decided for now to keep her mouth shut and continue to stare at the sky. It was safer that way.

--

When she had to tell Dr. Ramsey that they messed up on the reservations and only had one room for the two of them to share, she delivered the news matter-of-factly as if she was sharing the status of a broken arm or an appendicitis diagnosis. There was no flare, no pomp and circumstance, just the facts.  

She was looking forward to it and would make sure Dr. Ramsey didn’t regret it, but she knew that she had to present her case clearly and without emotion in order to keep anything from changing too much.

“They only have reservations under your name.  One room. We’ll have to share.”

Maggie was quite pleased with herself and the way she tackled what could have been a nightmare situation.

“Morons. Can no one do anything right?” He clenched his fist and his jaw while simultaneously rolling his eyes.

“I promise I don’t snore…” Maggie offered, trying to lighten the mood that had suddenly become very tense.

“I just don’t like the way it looks.” He explained with a heavy sigh, “But, we’ll have to make it work.”

They took their luggage up to the room. As they entered, Maggie did her best to keep the amount of awe she felt, to a minimum as she took in the sight of the beautiful balcony and the scenic view of the ocean and beach below. She immediately went out to look over it all. It wasn’t until Dr. Ramsey called her back in that she realized there really was only one bed.

“We need to go speak with some vendors and make the rounds on the exhibition floor.” Dr. Ramsey explained, checking his watch.

“Sounds fun!” Maggie smiled as she clasped her hands together, clearly delighted.

“You are woefully misinformed. Nothing about this is fun, Rookie.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Dr. Ramsey.”

“Meaning?”

“Maybe you’ll actually have fun this time because you’re with me.”

Maggie tried to be subtle in her tone but gave him a wink and then smiled through one side of her mouth as she boldly approached him and looped her arm under his.

She gently pushed him alongside her to the door of their hotel room.

“I should have asked Harper to pay for an assistant instead of bringing you…don’t get any ideas.” He raised an eyebrow and down on her with mock disdain.

The energy between them had shifted now and as he looked at her with mischief in his eyes, she wanted to reach up right then, snake her arms around his neck and toss him on the bed. The expo vendors be damned! But she swallowed those thoughts away and promised him she wouldn’t.

“I’ll be on my best behavior…for now.”

Maggie offered, followed by a throaty chuckle that made Dr. Ramsey stop in his tracks.

He turned sharply to look at his reflection in the full-length mirror near the door of their room. Maggie studied him as he studied himself.  

The hair. Those eyes. His lips. Everything about this man was sexy. It didn’t matter that he was 10 plus years older than her. His brain, his body, all of him was exactly what she wanted.

There were so many rumors about what Dr. Ramsey was really like.  People said he was vain, arrogant, selfish, rude and cocky as hell.  But she had yet to really see that side of him. Sure, he was particular and liked things done a certain way, but it was all for the good of the hospital, the patients and his team. He had a right to be that way, he’d earned it. He was after all, the Doctor Ethan Ramsey.

Those three words had rattled around in her brain for years.  Doctor.  Ethan. Ramsey.  He was everything she hoped to be and also everything she wanted at the same time.  He was standing right in front of her; she still felt at times as though she should pinch herself. It was truly a dream come true to be able to be in the presence of her mentor day after day.

“Like what you see Rookie? Let’s go.” He ushered her out the door and she nodded in agreement while biting her lip, wondering just where the rest of this day and this trip would lead them.

--

Dr. Ramsey and Maggie were able to spend some time both together and apart in the vendor area of the exhibit hall.  The bright white lights pierced Maggie’s eyes and started to give her a headache. She went from booth to booth listening to people as they peddled their latest technology to either aid in surgeries, help make diagnoses or, some would claim, cure the rarest sicknesses. Maggie was surprised at the wide range of options being offered and just how far these companies and salespeople would go to try and get her, a lowly intern, to agree to use their product. She was actually glad that she didn’t have the power or authority to tie Edenbrook to some of these companies. It was overwhelming to say the least.

Maggie found Dr. Ramsey waiting for her at their predetermined location. They split up for a little bit to “make the rounds” and decided to meet back up after about 45 minutes out on the floor. She was desperately trying to keep a headache at bay but must have been showing signs of fatigue on her face.

“Are you all right?” Dr. Ramsey asked, appearing genuinely concerned.

She nodded slowly and smiled, wanting to appear strong and capable at all times, but especially in front of him.

“Oh yes, just a slight headache is all. Once I get some water and a couple ibuprofen, I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get out of here. We need you feeling better before the reception this evening.”

“Reception?” Maggie questioned.

Before she could ask more questions, she was interrupted by a strikingly beautiful blonde who approached Dr. Ramsey from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for Maggie to realize she was watching something very intriguing unfold right before her eyes.

“Isabelle?” Dr. Ramsey’s eyes grew wide, turning around and enveloping the mystery woman in a hug.  

A long hug.

A hug that lasted for what felt like five minutes.

Maggie felt a sudden pang of jealousy. Dr. Ramsey clearly knew this woman. She was beautiful and he seemed happy to see her.

“It’s been a long time.”

Isabelle, as he called her, responded in a more abrupt manner than Maggie expected.  She noticed her body language and was immediately confused. Isabelle’s arms were crossed in front of her chest and she seemed less than pleased with Dr. Ramsey’s greeting.

“Yes, it has. Too long, Ethan, if you ask me.”

“How long has it been, exactly?”

Maggie assumed Dr. Ramsey was trying this hardest to be charming. He was smiling not only with his mouth but with his eyes. She couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though his eyes were also travelling the length of Isabelle’s body as they exchanged words.

“I believe it was last year’s conference. Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”

Isabelle purred like a luxurious cat, still looking a bit stand-offish, but clearly remembering or feeling something for Maggie’s beloved mentor.

“Oh, I remember…things just get busy and life takes over once we’re off conference time, you know.”

“I had heard a lot about you before…that night…” Isabelle leaned in, closer to him, the last few words barely above a whisper.

Maggie was feeling more than awkward in this moment. She was torn between wanting to distract herself and also wanting to hear every bit of this exchange.  This was juicy information and she needed to know who the heck this woman was and what history she had with Dr. Ramsey.

After letting out a loud and uncomfortable laugh, Ethan focused again on Isabelle and took her hand in his.

“I suppose I should be flattered. Usually at these things people either hate me or want something from me.”

“Well I was definitely one of the many women who wanted something from you. And there are plenty more who would want something from you too...”

At this point, Maggie noticed Isabelle’s eyes wandering to where she was standing. The two women made eye contact while Maggie shifted uncontrollably.  

Dr. Ramsey came to her rescue, swooping in beside Maggie and introducing her.

“Ah yes, Dr. Isabelle Crane, this is Dr. Maggie Valentine. Edenbrook’s finest intern, ranked number one currently. She’s accompanied me to the symposium this year.”

“And I do mean finest…” He whispered quickly and breathlessly into Maggie’s ear as she reached forward to extend her hand to Isabelle.  

She wanted to do a double take; her mind not completely sure she had heard Dr. Ramsey correctly. Instead she focused on the woman in front of her, hoping this exchange would end quickly.

Isabelle looked Maggie up and down then licked her lips and smiled deviously. Her eyes flicked from the doctor back to the intern. Maggie could almost see the wheels turning in this Isabelle woman’s head – she didn’t mind where she thought it was going but found it to be a little unprofessional.

“Well,” Isabelle cleared he throat, again her eyes playing ping pong between the two doctors. “Let me offer you this word of advice, number one intern...”

Maggie swallowed hard, her eyes locking with Isabelle’s. She was suddenly very afraid of what Isabelle was going to say next.

“Take great care to not let this one get away. It’s been my experience that once he’s out of sight, you’re out of mind.”

Isabelle was terse and made it beyond clear that she was unhappy with Dr. Ramsey’s behavior. Maggie wasn’t sure she wanted to know exactly what went on between the two of them, but she was astute enough to get the gist. She watched, keeping her composure, as Isabelle spun on her heel and quickly exited.

Wanting to break the ice and let her mentor know she wasn’t the least bit phased by anything, Maggie was the first to speak.

“I think I’ll go get that ibuprofen now.”

Dr. Ramsey was scratching the back of his neck, his head hung low. He looked up at her with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah. Good idea.”

--

By the time Dr. Ramsey returned to the room, Maggie was in the shower. She had laid out her dress for the evening, hoping it was right for the occasion. The last thing she wanted was to be too dressed up or not dressed up enough. She was well aware of who she was with and she did not want to disappoint him in any way.

It wasn’t long before she heard Dr. Ramsey’s voice call out over the noise of the water.  She knew he was back in the room when she heard the loud hotel door slam close. Thankfully there was no way he could enter the bathroom, as she had thought ahead and locked it.  She already had her fill of awkward encounters for the day.

“Maggie?”

She swallowed hard, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. She could feel her neck and chest flush a little bit upon the realization that the only thing between her naked body and Dr. Ethan Ramsey was a flimsy hotel wall. And what’s more, he knew it too, and still chose to engage with her. Trying her best not to come across too hopeful or excited, she casually responded.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for all that back there…I know you may…uh…have some questions but she’s…”

Maggie cut him off, not wanting or needing an explanation.

“It’s fine, Dr. Ramsey. Really!”

She began to wash her hair, biting her lip and closing her eyes wondering where this conversation would go next.

“I know you might need the shower, so I’ll be fast. I’m just finishing up!” She lied.

“Oh, um, okay. No rush.”

Maggie noticed his voice had gotten lower and a little more raspy with that response. Could it be possible that he was thinking the same thing she was? There was no way he wasn’t thinking about her being in the shower as he spoke with her WHILE SHE WAS IN THE SHOWER.

“How’s your head?” He asked plainly.

Maggie had now put her head under the water to rinse. “Oh, it’s much better, thank you.”

“Is this – this dress here on the bed, is this what you’re wearing tonight?”

She cursed herself, unsure of his tone.

“I brought a lot of options. I wasn’t sure how fancy this was, and I can do something different if it’s not that kind of reception.”

She was finished with her shower now and had turned off the water, wrapping a towel around herself quickly. Her heart was beating fast indicating she was nervous, but her mind was fixed on him and she also felt daring. She wondered if it was possible to be both at the same time.  

“It’s sufficient.” Dr. Ramsey responded in typical fashion.

With her hair dripping wet, she decided to go for it. He wasn’t stupid and neither was she. If anything, she could play it off like an honest mistake. But she wanted him. And she wanted him to know she wanted him. Coming out of the bathroom in just a towel would definitely send that message.

She opened the door and wasn’t prepared for him to be right there, but he was. Literally a few inches from her. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of his lips. She wished she had looked at his eyes instead, because she wanted to watch them and see where they travelled. Did he look her over like he had Isabelle?

Dr. Ramsey suddenly cleared his throat loudly.

“Rookie…” he almost whispered, finally locking his gaze onto hers.

“Only sufficient?” Maggie pouted.  

She could feel a bead of water running from the end of her hair down her chest between her breasts and she held her composure perfectly as she watched her favorite teacher’s eyes follow the path of the drop.

“More than sufficient.”

And with that he stepped into the bathroom, leaving Maggie to finish getting ready.  

--

The reception was everything Maggie dreamed it would be. She got to wear her fancy dress and drink champagne all with Dr. Ethan Ramsey on her arm. If she had the chance to go back to high-school-Maggie and tell herself that this would be her life, high-school-Maggie never in a million years would have believed her.

She was trying to take mental inventory of everything. Not just the amazing food and ambiance, but the way Dr. Ramsey looked in a tux, the way he had given his approval with a curt nod as she spun around for him in their hotel room, asking him if she “looked okay.” Maggie didn’t want this night to ever end.

The reception had been held by the pool at the resort and eventually, they had to shut it down. Maggie had convinced Dr. Ramsey to stay until the bitter end, even though she had her shoes off and could barely keep her eyes open, when the music stopped and people started picking up, she knew it was time to go.

The bartender was packing up and called out to the couple as they passed by.

“You all want this?” He held out a bottle of champagne.

“It’s already been paid for.”

“Of course it has.” Dr. Ramsey responded as Maggie reached out to grab the bottle.

“And of course we do!” She giggled a little, taking the bottle and wiggling her eyebrows.

Dr. Ramsey couldn’t even stifle a smile this time. Maggie thought that perhaps, despite himself, he had a good night with her and for a few moments, maybe he actually enjoyed himself.

Once the couple exited the elevators on the floor of their room, they walked down the long hallway to the very end where their suite was waiting.  Occasionally Maggie’s hand would brush with Dr. Ramsey’s as he held the champagne bottle by his side. She could tell something had changed. There was a new electricity between them now.  She hoped it wasn’t just the buzz from the multiple glasses of Prosecco she consumed.

“Maggie…” he trailed off just as they reached their room.

“I had a nice time tonight.”

She couldn’t find her voice as she was lost in his incredibly bright blue eyes. They were always piercing but, in this moment, they looked a more intense shade of blue than she had ever seen or noticed before. He stood there, watching her, and she waited for her own brain and mouth to connect in order to respond but nothing came out. She was only able to smile and nod.

The familiar heat spread again on her cheeks, her neck and chest. He opened the door slowly and went to gather more champagne flutes from the table outside on the balcony.

“It’s a beautiful evening and it’s not over yet. Let’s drink out here!” He called to her.

Maggie felt like she was floating. She took a deep breath, dropped her shoes on the floor, and followed him outside. The view was breathtaking, both him and the oceanside. He brought her a flute, held up his glass and looked at her as he spoke.

“A toast. To you. The marvelous Dr. Maggie Valentine. Cheers to surviving your first medical symposium and a day with me. You truly are the finest intern Edenbrook has ever…” he paused adding dramatic effect, “…ever had.”

“Dr. Ramsey – I don’t know what to say, I…” Maggie felt like crying she was so proud of herself and so glad he felt that way about her, but he cut her off.

“Ethan.”

She nodded, taking a drink.

“Please, call me Ethan.”

Ethan exhaled quickly, took a drink of champagne and then began to speak again. Maggie couldn’t be sure, but it seemed as though his voice was a little shaky as he started.

“I owe you an apology. I’ve been short and more cranky than normal as of late.” He moved to the railing, holding his glass with both hands and leaning over it.

Maggie almost interjected but decided against it. She wanted to see where this was going and what he would say next.

“This trip has been very difficult for me. And I don’t like to admit when I find things challenging or tough.  I thought I could handle this. I thought it would be different. I’ve just never…”

“…felt like this before?” Maggie blurted it out without thinking. Her eyes grew wide, she covered her mouth with her free hand and spilled a little champagne in the process.

Ethan’s head turned slowly to face her. His smile turned into his trademark smirk and Maggie was done for.

“That’s it exactly, Maggie. I’ve tried. So hard…but this trip -- being together so much just us, one on one, and seeing you like this and being with you tonight, everything has just made it impossible.”

And there it was. Just like that he called her Maggie. She was now on a first name basis with Dr. – no – Ethan. Strangely, she was calm. Her pulse was normal, she was concentrating on him and him alone.  

He quickly finished what remained in his glass and set it on the table, taking her free hand in his.

“I could say all of that, too.” She gulped.

Remembering she also had champagne, she took a sip and shivered as he ran his thumb lazily across her knuckles. The words continued to come out of her mouth before she could even think.

“I can’t even believe that right now, I’m me and you’re you and we’re standing here on this balcony looking at the ocean, all dressed up, together. Like actually together. And you’re holding my hand and I just…I’ve wanted this…with you…”

Ethan nodded and without saying a word, took her face in his hands and whispered, “And I want you.”

Maggie didn’t know what was happening anymore. She wasn’t sure if she moved in for the kiss or if he was going to do it anyway, but it didn’t matter. She was now officially in the arms of Dr. Ethan freaking Ramsey and she was going to enjoy it.

After a few moments the passion was intensifying between them both and Maggie took a quick step back, holding Ethan at arm’s length.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing.” She smiled, holding his gaze and looking at him fondly.

“I want to remember this. There’s not one second of this moment I want to ever forget.”

Ethan smiled and then moved closer to her, nuzzling her neck just below her ear and moving her towards the bed, where the two of them tangled themselves together for hours, enjoying their evening and each other long into the night.

[vannahfanfics]

The Lovers’ Plum

Category: Romantic Drama

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Katsuki Bakugo

Additional Tags: Supernatural AU; Feudal Japan AU

Hello, everyone! It’s my pleasure to present the story I wrote for the @bokunoyokaibang​, “The Lovers’ Plum”! I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please go give some love to my talented partner, @malware-incorporated​, who illustrated the story for me! 

The Coming of the Plum Tree Spirit

The early afternoon breeze rustled the thin branches of the solitary plum tree, filling the air with a dull clattering as the sticks clacked against one another. The tiny limbs were laden with small pink buds; as the wind washed over them, their silken petals were plucked hence, wafting over the light winds before spiraling down to the emerald grass below. The lone plant stood sentinel atop a gently sloped hill overlooking the clustering huts of a humble Japanese fishing settlement three days’ ride from Edo. Its voluminous bulk had overseen the gushing river since before man had ventured to its shores, and if luck be true, would behold its gentle majesty for many moons to come. Many cycles it had lived, turning pink with blossom and green with fruit and naked with winter’s cold. In an odd twist of fate, it had also born witness to a particular phenomenon of humans- burgeoning love.

Springtime often brought them forth to plead beneath the plum tree. Young girls, and even boys from time to time, hiked the well-worn path from the outskirts of the village to the plum tree’s throne, where they would kneel and clasp their hands in prayer. With tears blossoming in the corners of their entreating eyes, they would implore the ancient being for good fortune in their romantic endeavors. No one was quite sure how the sacred ritual began; humans were notorious for the spontaneous creation of folktales and legends, however. Perhaps one spirited little mind dreamt of a doomed romance beneath the fruit-laden branches, and myth watered its roots, turning the quaint plum tree into a being mystical and divine. Of course, a plum tree is but a plum tree; that is, until it isn’t.

The plum tree spirit, who knew not of the conventions of calendars and days in the early stages of her life, could not say when she had blinked into existence. One fine morning where the birds hopped about the tree’s branches to feast on its ripe purple-red fruits, she had simply blinked awake. Contained within the thick trunk of the tree, she gazed upon the world with fresh new eyes and beheld the majesty of the earth. She ventured out, pale and naked, to touch to grass blades to find them remarkably soft, and to chase the butterflies flitting over the wildflowers. She gasped in delight as the wispy white seeds scattered at her steps, taking to the wind to float away into the wild blue yonder and hopefully take root. The sun was warm on her skin, and the breeze gentle through her chestnut hair. The sky above blazed in resplendent blue, stained by the puffy masses of white clouds.

The plum tree spirit, though she knew not, was a minor god brought forth by the supplicant prayers of hopeful youths.

The newborn spirit spent the first few days of her life playing amongst the wild grasses and flowers, growing bolder day by day. She greeted the mother doe and her fumbling fawn, running ethereal fingers over the spotted fur. She hopped with a tawny spotted rabbit through the golden forest grass and delighted at the yellow tufts that tickled her cheeks and nose. She curled beneath the sprawling blanket of the plum tree’s fruit-laden branches, nibbling at the succulent fruit and admiring the light playing through the emerald leaves. She even crept through the bushes along the small trail to catch glimpses of the thatch-and-wood houses and their residents, who hauled baskets laden with trout and shellfish from the river. Upon her first glimpse of them, the new god realized her corporeal form resembled the female humans’; however, they did not roam about uncovered like she. She studied the strange garments they cloaked themselves with and found that if she simply willed it into being, the cloth materialized and draped over her body. A kimono, they called it. The plum tree spirit imbued it with a lovely pink hue, the exact shade of her tree’s vivid petals.

The humans were like her in body, but the tree spirit knew that she was not human. As she lounged beneath the tree watching the sun sink below the horizon each day, she could not help but wonder what kind of being that she was, and why she was there. She had attempted to speak to the trees along the path, the black pines and red pines and white pines, but they were hollow and voiceless. It seemed that she was alone in this vast full world, a unique and singular existence.  

The first days of her life were thus, though filled with the wonder of novelty, extraordinarily lonely.

The Coming of Her Purpose

The plum tree spirit awoke to the sound of hushed giggles. She had discovered that unless she desired it, humans could not see her; up until that point, she had rendered herself invisible, for she knew not how they would react to her sudden presence. The newborn deity peered through the skinny branches of her birth tree to see three human girls scampering up the path. The young god was delighted at their appearance, for perhaps their visit would provide insight into her anomalous presence. Curiously, she watched the girl in front, a beautiful woman with fluffy black hair pinned atop her head, kneel on the ground before the plum tree, and clasp her hands together tightly.

“O, great plum tree that has stood since time immemorial,” the villager announced loudly, “I humbly beseech thee to grant my wish.” The spirit’s ears perked. Wishes? Do I exist to grant the wishes of humans? The god stared at her hands, flexing her fingers. She couldn’t fathom possessing an inherent power to grant the prayers of mortals. Yet, if I exist for this purpose, I must try, she frowned. The girl’s black eyes bored into the cocoa-brown bark of the plum tree with a desperate intensity. “Please, O Goddess of the Lovers’ Plum, please bring me fair fortune!”

One of the girls behind her, a stoic one with short purple-black hair, frowned sardonically.

“Momo, you don’t really believe that nonsense that praying to the plum tree will lead to you meeting your future lover in seven days, right?” she sighed with a shake of her head, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s just an old folktale. I can’t believe you dragged me up here for this…”

“Hush, Kyoka!” the praying girl, evidently named Momo, hissed with an affronted glance over her shoulder. “You’ll anger the spirit, and she won’t grant my wish!” Kyoko’s dissidence indeed angered the tree spirit. Still, she would not spurn the willful young lady for that. Instead, the youthful god grinned and sent a plum falling from the branches above her head. Kyoka yelped as the fruit slammed into her scalp. The plum burst open to spill sticky juice and yellow flesh into her hair. She whined miserably as it dripped onto the white fabric of her kimono. The other companion, a smiling young lady with hair pink like carnations, laughed mirthfully.

“You see, Kyoka? You’ve angered the goddess!”

“Shut up, Mina,” Kyoka growled and disdainfully brushed the clumps of fruit from her head and shoulders. The tree spirit giggled mischievously and returned her attention to the prostrate girl. She had rested her hands on her lap and was staring miserably at the earth. Invisible to their eyes, the young god knelt beside her, staring intently at her forlorn expression. She had realized that humans experienced a phenomenon known as “emotions,” and this one was akin to sadness.

“… I am but a humble seamstress,” Momo lamented woefully. “I beg my father to allow us to travel to Edo and take up shop there so that we may live a better life, but he is adamant we remain by the river. Our family has always resided here, from the time of his grandfather’s grandfather.” Her eyes became lidded as her bottom lip wobbled. Tears slipped down her cheeks, and the tree spirit brushed them away with her fingertips, though the girl likely dismissed it as a mere kiss from the breeze. The god marveled at the glistening tear decorating her finger, a bead of water like dew. She tasted it and then spat it out, finding it to be unbearably salty.

“I wish to meet a man who can spirit me far away from this miserable land!” Momo cried and laid the back of her hand to her forehead in misery. “I wish to see grand things, and sell fine silks to lords and ladies, and live a life of plenty and comfort… Not scrounge for scraps on the shores of a river,” she complained bitterly. The tree spirit was unsure why such a living was undesirable to a human, but then, many of their ways were foreign to her.

“Momo, we have to get going,” Kyoka frowned and glanced down the path leading back to the settlement. “Your mother will be looking for you to mind the shop.”

“Yes, yes,” Momo sighed and rose, brushing the dirt from the fabric covering her knees. The tree spirit hurriedly jumped to her feet, wracking her brain for a manner in which to grant the wish. She elected to follow her instincts.

“Your prayer has been heard, and I grant you my blessing. Go forth and may love find you quickly,” the young god recited and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Momo’s forehead. The girl could not see or hear her, but yet, she blushed slightly and ran her fingertips over the skin there.

“I feel like the goddess heard me,” Momo remarked joyfully to her friends as she trounced over to them. Mina grabbed her arm excitedly and beamed, while Kyoka rolled her eyes but smiled. The spirit watched them meander back down the trail; soon, their avid discussion of young love and hope faded into the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. She then smiled and squealed and jumped up and down with glee.

At last, the tree spirit knew her purpose.

The tree spirit took to her newfound mission with fervor. Many came to pray to the tree for fair fortune. The god was delighted to find that young Momo had met a fisherman who traveled the length of the river to sell iron-forged weapons seven days after her appeal, and the two fell madly in love. She had immigrated to Edo and now sold hand-crafted kimonos to all manners of folk. The god only had a rudimentary understanding of love, but she could comprehend that love made the humans happy. Summer passed into winter, which moved into the spring. Nine months after she had come into being, the naïve but kind-hearted god met the human who would teach her what it truly meant to love another.  

The Coming of Katsuki Bakugo

It was the height of May. The tree spirit had learned the calendar year through her furtive observations of the humans. The air simmered with the sun’s blazing heat, so the tree spirit cooled herself beneath the shady sprawl of her home tree, humming a tune she had learned by watching a washerwoman. She perked up when she heard the unmistakable crunch of sandals upon hard, dried dirt. Sitting up straight and tucking her legs underneath her body, she patiently awaited the arrival of her latest patron. She cocked her head slightly when the muscular form of a man tromped around the corner.

He reminded her of the fishermen- toned and lean, with powerful, thick thighs and bulging arms. He was not dressed in the garb of fishermen, however. The boatmen wore light fabrics that covered their entire body to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays, while this man wore a yukata of thick maroon cloth, with no sleeves and a hem that reached only to his knees. A red-and-white woven rope wound around his forehead. The fishermen were quite a merry bunch, as well, with smiles always alighting their faces and bawdy songs spilling from their lungs, but this human greeted the invisible goddess with a moody scowl. She fidgeted before him, wondering what could cause such irritation.

He stopped in front of the plum tree and gave it a brief once-over. He then snorted and flopped down on his side underneath its shady leaves, holding a hand to his mouth as he yawned. The god observed him fascinatedly, for no human had ever behaved in such a manner before.

“Goddess of the tree or whatever you are,” he droned disinterestedly, “I hope you don’t mind if I take a nap here. It’s hot as shit today.” The little god flushed, recognizing his language as coarse. She inspected him closer to find his brown skin sheened with sweat, and his hands calloused from toil. So he is a laborer, she concluded. She was a goddess and was thus charged with the care of humans, so she supposed allowing the worker to shelter beneath her birth tree was acceptable. She frowned, wishing the plums were in season so she could grant him some fruit to eat. It mattered not, for he was already snoring, resting his head against his arm. The plum tree spirit smiled and stroked his back soothingly.

“Sleep well beneath my blossoms, human man, and recover your strength. I bless you with good fortune in your future endeavors.” She knew he could not hear her, but she fancied he did, because he grunted in his sleep. As he slept beneath her branches, the god observed him critically. He was quite handsome, for a human, with chiseled rugged features and ash-blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant vermilion like the wild red roses that grew along the hill path. She wondered if he did not need to pray for love, because surely such a beautiful human man would be popular among young ladies.

The young man rested for about an hour, until the sun had passed its height to begin its slow descent. He likely would have slept for longer, had it not been for the angry shouting that floated up the hill. The tree spirit straightened up, peering into the greenery as the cursing and yelling grew louder. The human man groaned and scowling, cracking one of his red eyes open to glare reproachfully at the small gap in the bushes that marked the entrance to the hilltop. A man dressed in similar garb, only green, charged through the brambles, red-faced and chest heaving.

“Katsuki Bakugo! What the hell are you doing up here, lounging like a house cat?! You had seventeen orders to fill today!” the angry human scolded. The vermilion-eyed laborer, whom the goddess now knew as Katsuki, scowled condescendingly.

“I filled them, so I came up here to take a nap. Tell me, old man, how much time have you wasted looking for me when you could have been bartering with the tradesmen on the river?” Katsuki remarked and studied the cuticles of his nails. The tree spirit held a hand to her mouth, appalled by the level of disrespect. From what she understood, Katsuki was subservient to this new man, and therefore ought to treat him with honor and dignity. His words carried the tone of anything but. Katsuki sneered as his superior could only sputter and turn the color of a tomato. “Uh-huh.”

“You’re so lucky you’re Mitsuki’s son, or I would fire you in an instant!” the man fumed and stamped his foot. Katsuki frowned and stared unapprovingly up at him. “I owe a life debt to your mother and offer you a place in my business, and this is how you repay me? Sneaking off after you do the bare minimum?!”

“All right, all right, old man, you’re gonna bust my eardrum,” Katsuki grimaced, digging a finger deep into one of his ear canals. Leisurely, he lifted himself into a sitting position. “If you wanted me to stay in the shop to pick up the slack of those other extras, you shoulda said so.” The man growled and pointed a bright red finger at Katsuki but decided that further argument was worthless. He whirled on his heel to tromp back down the pathway, while Katsuki laughed mischievously and shouted after him, “I’m gonna inherit your business one day, you old fart! Watch me!” The plum tree spirit was baffled by the entire exchange, but yet, she could not help but find the spirited young human captivating.

“Bah. Old asshole,” Katsuki huffed and rubbed the short hairs at the base of his neck while he climbed to his feet. He made to begin walking, but then glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. The goddess would have been directly within his line of sight if he could see her. “… Thank you for allowing me to rest here,” he said with a slight bow.

Then he was gone, stomping off into the bushes. The spirit craned her head to watch the ash-blond tufts of his hair vanish amongst the green. After he melted into the wilderness, she reclined against the thin trunk of the plum tree with a small smile. What an interesting human, she thought jubilantly. I wonder if I shall ever see him again.

The Coming of Ochako

Ironically enough, Katsuki Bakugo did return the following day- and the next and the next, every day for more than the plum tree spirit could keep count. He would always come to snooze the height of the afternoon away, and then be hauled off by his disgruntled boss. Without fail, Katsuki would thank her for graciously sheltering him from the heat. The young goddess soon looked forward to his coming every afternoon- and began to muster up the courage to appear before a human for the first time.

The blossoms had born fruit, and emerald leaves had sprouted by the time she made her move. He came just as he came every day, sauntering up the path to toss himself to the ground unceremoniously. This time, she hovered behind the skinny tree trunk, peering through the small bough to watch him march up the hill. I must be brave! I must make myself known to this human, she told herself. She hovered behind the plum tree, her pink kimono ruffling in the summer breeze, and held her breath as his ash-blond hair appeared above the fringe of the tall bushes. His bulky form soon followed. When his red eyes landed on her, he froze mid-step.

“I, um,” he stammered with an embarrassed blush rising to his cheeks. He pointed quickly down the path. “I can come back later; no one usually comes to pray at this time…”

“No, no!” she squeaked, scurrying out from her hiding spot as he began to turn. “Please stay. I’m not praying here.” His expression grew even more confused, but he obediently remained rooted to the spot. Flushing, the plum tree spirit bowed low. “I am the spirit of the plum tree. I have much desired to meet you formally.” She peeked between the chestnut waves of her locks to witness his reaction. His mouth hung open in shock for a few seconds, and those vermilion eyes beheld her in wonder.

He then began to cackle with loud laughter.

“Bahahahaha! What a joke!” he howled. She straightened up with knitted eyebrows as he sniggered uncontrollably. He held his belly and doubled over, tears dripping from his blond lashes as his entire body shook. “My dickhead of a boss musta put you up to this. How much did he pay you, huh? Plum tree spirit… Pffft, as if!”

“How dare you!” she fumed. She balled up her fists and stamped her feet angrily. The branches of the plum tree began to writhe and quiver despite there being no gale, and the purple fruits started to plummet to the earth. They burst open in showers of gold, scattering their large pods. “I really am the spirit of the plum tree! What a rude human you are, to belittle me when I have allowed you to sleep under my protection for weeks now!” The shadows of the plum tree began to grow blacker and stretch with a dark malice. Katsuki yelped and began to back-pedal; he tripped over his own feet and landed on his rump.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! I’m sorry!” he protested, waving his hands in surrender as he regarded her with a frightened expression. “It’s just- I don’t- you don’t look like a god.”

“Well, a god I am, so you shall respect me as such!” she huffed and crossed her arms. However, she was satisfied with his acknowledgment, so she relaxed. The plum tree returned to normal, though the sickly-sweet aroma of plums now hung in the air. She regarded the busted fruit with a frown. It would not go to waste, as the birds and beasts would feast upon the succulent flesh, but it was still a shame to make a mess of the place. Katsuki slowly sat up, still gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe.

“What’s your name?”

“Name? I do not have one,” she answered, pressing her finger to her lips. “I was not given one. I am simply the spirit of the plum tree.”

“That’s a mouthful,” he snorted. He seemed more at ease now; he was sitting on his haunches, with his legs drawn up and his muscular arms draped over his knees. He pondered for a moment, then smirked. “How about ‘Ochako’? Does that please you, Miss Goddess?” His tone was teasing, but his smirk made her heart race for a reason other than ire. She shuffled her feet and wrung the fold of her kimono nervously.

“O-ochako will do just fine.”

“Ochako, then. My name’s Katsuki.” Ochako supposed she could reply that she was very much aware, but it was customary for humans to introduce themselves, so she refrained. “I make fireworks.”

“Fireworks?” she inquired. In all her time observing the humans, she had not heard such a term. His face visibly brightened at her ignorance.

“Yeah, fireworks! They’re made by combining gunpowder with dyes and other compounds. Then you light them with fire, and they shoot up into the sky to explode into a huge blast of color!” he grinned, gesturing with his hands. Ochako’s brown eyes widened with wonder. Even with his description, she could not imagine such a magnificent display. He leaned back on his hands and smiled warmly at her. “I sailed in with the old man from Edo. Every year, this little backwater village holds a festival to celebrate the river god. It draws in people from all over the country, surprisingly. Me and the old man sail here in May to prepare, and trade with the locals, too, and then in August, we launch all the fireworks to honor the god.” He paused with a frown. “You’re a god here, so surely you must have seen it?” he frowned. Ochako shook her head.

“No. I was born only last summer, very late.” she frowned. “There are many things of this world that I have yet to know and see…” Katsuki grimaced and regarded her curiously.

“How were you born?”

“I am not entirely sure, but I believe I came from the wishes of the locals,” she said with a glance of the plum-laden tree. She smiled wistfully, thinking back to her first prayer, Momo the seamstress. “I came from the hope in their hearts to help grant them fortune in the endeavors of true love. I am not sure if I possess any real power, but I give them my blessing, all the same.” She glanced back at him with a light laugh. “Truth be told, when you first climbed this hill, I thought that you were coming to pray, not sleep!” Katsuki blushed and shifted a little on the ground. “But you are such a handsome human, so surely you don’t need my blessings. I am sure you already have a fine wife.” His face turned the color of her kimono, and he looked away with a pout. Ochako raised her eyebrows. “Am I mistaken…?”

“Yup. Don’t really have time for a woman. We travel all throughout Japan sellin’ fireworks and all. Not too many gals are willin’ to live a life like that,” he said quietly. Ochako detected a hint of bitterness in his voice. Expression concerned, she walked over to kneel beside him, tucking her kimono under her calves.

“Would you like me to give you my blessing?”

“Nah,” he laughed and smiled confidently at her. “I just came here to nap.” Ochako giggled, holding her hand to her mouth like she often saw the refined ladies that sometimes sailed into the village did.

“Very well. I can grant that wish.” She rose and gestured to the circle of shade surrounding the plum tree. Katsuki followed her over, and she knelt once more, then patted the plush of her thighs. He raised a hesitant eyebrow. “It’s all right. I’m sure I am much more comfortable than the ground.” Slowly, he eased himself onto his back perpendicular to her seated form and rested the back of his head on her lap. He wiggled a little to get himself comfortable, then relaxed his hands on his stomach, fingers laced together. His brilliant red eyes sparkled like rubies as they gazed attentively up at her.

“Have you really been alone up here all this time?” he asked her quietly. Ochako blinked, then smiled sweetly and looked out into the quaint little wood surrounding the hill.

“Yes. I am the only one here,” Ochako confirmed, “but it’s all right. I am blessed with the smiles of my patrons and the living creatures of the wood. It may be a solitary life, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It is a fulfilling existence to bring others happiness. I may be but a minor god, but that is my charge. I will accept that role readily.” She glanced down at him to find him smiling kindly.

“When fall comes, and I sail off, I’ll tell everyone about Ochako the Plum Tree Goddess. Soon you’ll be known far and wide, and a shrine will be built in your honor.” Ochako beamed at that, visions of a sparkling and well-tended shrine with mikos blooming in her imagination.

“That would be lovely,” she agreed with a nod. “But until then, I shall be content if you but visit me.” Katsuki laughed.

“Yeah, okay, Ochako.” His red irises vanished beneath his closing eyelids. His breathing soon became deep and unlabored. Ochako smiled benignly and stroked his forehead, admiring the softness of his fluffy blond hair.

Yes, she thought blissfully, just keep resting here beneath my boughs, and I shall never be alone.

The Coming of a Goddess’ Love

As promised, Katsuki returned to the Lovers’ Plum every day to speak with Ochako. They sat side-by-side against the thin trunk, and he regaled her with the many, many wonders of the human world. Ochako learned more listening to Katsuki than in her year of secretly observing the humans. She was delighted to learn that they were a very innovative breed, creating a plethora of remarkable tools and novelties. Their creativity and ingenuity were unmatched by any being on this earth.

However, she was also saddened to learn that humans could also be devastatingly violent. Katsuki told her of roving bands of rogues who pillaged farmsteads, of great wars waged between immense hosts of forces, of the seeds of evil that germinated within individuals and caused them to steal and murder and rape. Ochako surmised that it was merely the balance of nature, as light cannot exist without an equal dark, but regardless it still depressed her. Humans were such charming beings. She hated that within them festered the tendencies for destruction.

As June passed into July, the air grew warmer- as did their relationship. They took to wandering the woods, admiring the fanciful splendors of the natural world. On one such occasion, they stumbled upon a vast field of wildflowers- a colorful rainbow as far as the eye could see. Ochako squealed and dove into the blanket of petals, watching as her movements sprung them from their confines, and they raced away on the wind. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling their softness, and her eyes beheld fluttering butterflies and bobbling bumblebees gathering the pollen and feasting on the nectar. When she turned to invite Katsuki into the magical field, he was already right there, tucking a bloom behind her ear and giving her a smile that made her heart race in a manner she had never felt.

“Ochako,” he breathed with a gentle look.

“Yes?”

“You’re beautiful.” His fingers took a swathe of her soft brown hair, his thumb stroking along the strands. She flushed and held a hand to her cheek; she was unable to look at him for her bashfulness. He seemed not to mind her lack of response, for he continued to gaze at her with that smoldering warmth that sent unbridled joy pulsing through her body.

From that day forth, Ochako looked forward to his coming with an overwhelming rapture. One day, at the tail end of July, Katsuki posed the notion of venturing into the village.

“I’m not sure, Katsuki,” she frowned, kneeling amongst the roots of the tree. The fruits were growing overripe and falling from the branches, leaving the grasses sticky and coated with the golden juice. Birds and beasts scrounged for the mushy flesh and seed pods left behind in the fruits’ fermentation. “You are the only human I have ever revealed myself to.”

“You don’t have to tell anyone you’re a god,” he reassured. “Please. I want to enjoy more than just a measly hour or two with you.” Ochako flushed at that, fidgeting as that incredible joy wrapped around her heart like ribbon. Curling a piece of her hair around her finger, she pondered the suggestion. I suppose it’s all right, as long as I pretend that I am human. Thus, she agreed, and Katsuki promised to retrieve her that afternoon around sunset.

After he bid her farewell, Ochako experienced true impatience for the first time. She restlessly paced the small area around her plum tree, and even fidgeted distractedly during the few prayers she granted. The sun seemed to mock her by inching along the blue expanse, refusing to go at a pace more than a snail’s crawl. That was actually one way in which Ochako occupied herself- by watching one of the shelled creatures slide along a large grass blade. When it reached the summit, bending the grass blade under its heavy weight, it wiggled its antenna and pondered its next move. It turned around and began slinking down the way it came.

After what seemed a life age, the blue sky began to bleed with red and orange and gold. The sun melted behind the collection of houses hugging the river. One by one, the settlement’s torches blazed to life, illuminating the area with flickering fire. The thatch roofs caught the sunlight to burn gold, and the few glimpses of the water Ochako could catch from her high perch revealed the river to be sparkling like the stars.

“Katsuki!” Ochako squealed when he came traipsing through the bushes. She rushed to him, beaming, and he affectionately ruffled her bouncy brown hair. She crooned in delight and nuzzled into his palm. Though it was roughened by much toil, it still felt nice when he caressed her.

“Ready?” he asked with an endearing smile. Ochako nodded ecstatically. “Let’s go, then.” She blushed bright pink when he offered her his hand. From the way the village girls talked, holding hands was a romantic gesture, at least within humans their age range. Ochako gulped and timidly reached out to grasp his hand. Her fingers slid alongside his like a mechanism locking into place- naturally. His hand was so warm, and the calloused skin felt pleasurable against her soft palm. Her heart jumped in her throat as he allowed their arms to fall loosely between them, and they swung slightly with every step they took down the path. As the buildings grew larger and larger, she found herself pressing into his hefty frame, as if he could shield her from the unknown.

The village rang with noise, even at night.

The air hummed with pleasant conversation. The denizens lounged on their porches to enjoy the warm summer evening, smoking on pipes and sharing bottles of sake. Children squealed as they chased fireflies in their yards or bounced rubber balls with sticks or wrestled with dogs in the mud. The grass gave way to wooden walkways that connected the houses and extended onto the river, where the fishermen moored their boats. With the coming of night, they had ventured in from the water and were clustered around barrels, laughing raucously as they bet on cards or shogi games. Every once in a while, they would get heated and start brawling, only to tumble into the river and come up laughing. The glow from the braziers cast a warm red glow on everything that complimented the natural light of the full moon above. Ochako’s head swiveled on her neck as she attempted to absorb every detail of the humans’ lives as she could. Katsuki watched her with an amused smirk.

“Here’s where I work,” he announced when they had ventured deep into the waterfront settlement. It was a large building set back from the water. It was open to the air, with only a sloped roof to shield it from the elements. Smoke poured from within, and Ochako’s nose wrinkled at the acrid scent of earthy minerals. “Would you like to see the fireworks?” Ochako nodded eagerly; she had been much enthralled with the human device since their first meeting. Katsuki chuckled and brought her inside.

“Eijirou!” he called as he lifted the cloth flap that served as a door, though large open windows framed either side of it. Large tables stretched throughout the space and were laden with a variety of objects Ochako knew not the name for. A redheaded man came trotting out of the gloom, wiping his hands on a cloth with soot staining his smiling face.

“Hey, Katsuki! Comin’ to burn the midnight oil? We still have a lot to do before the River God Festival.”

“Hell no,” Katsuki snorted derisively. He raised his arm to reveal Ochako, who was hiding behind his massive bulk and peering shyly around his ribs at the newcomer Eijirou. “I came to show her around.”

“Oh, is that so? So, you’re the girl Katsuki’s been sneaking off to see every afternoon,” the redhead grinned with a playful wink. Ochako’s cheeks brightened as she peeked up at Katsuki. Does he talk about me? Katsuki tched and gave Eijirou a dismissive wave, but from the delighted twinkle in his red eyes, Ochako could tell that Katsuki looked upon the other fondly. She gulped and snuck further behind Katsuki’s back as Eijirou approached. He gripped his chin and stepped around the blond to inspect her critically. She pressed her face into Katsuki’s back, peering bashfully at him through the gap in her brown hair. “Well, no wonder our Katsuki is so smitten. You sure are a cutie!”

“Oi! Go make yourself useful, Shitty Hair,” Katsuki growled and shoved Eijirou in the shoulder.

“Hey now, hey now, I’m not intruding,” the redhead smirked and pranced away. “I’m just stating facts, that’s all~!” With a giddy laugh, Eijirou made himself busy assembling the fireworks. Curious now, Ochako peeled herself away from the man to ease over. She froze when Eijirou glanced out of his peripheral vision at her, but he only smiled and continued about his business. She crept up to the table, craning her neck to observe the process. He was loading a multitude of grainy particles into a tube, then capping them with a conical shape. A large pile of them already sat on the edge of the table, hued in blues and greens and reds. She poked one experimentally, then tugged at the black strings on the end.

“Careful,” Katsuki warned and gently pulled her fingers away. “Those are the fuses. We light them to shoot them off. Wouldn’t want these exploding down here,” he smiled gently.

“Yeah, the boss’d really kill you then,” Eijirou snickered. Katsuki scowled and stuck out his tongue at him.

“That old man won’t do shit because he’s too busy pining after my old lady.”

“Yeah,” Eijirou laughed, “your mom sure has fun letting him cling to her skirts. You know he bought her a real ruby hairpin the other day? Are you sure your mom isn’t actually-”

“Hey, you watch it,” Katsuki warned and jabbed a finger into his chest. “My mom would never cheat on my old man with that greasy old fart.” Eijirou laughed and held his hands up in surrender.

“All right, all right, I was just kidding.” Katsuki snorted and grabbed Ochako by her elbow to gently lead her out of the fireworks shop. She hurriedly looked over her shoulder and gave Eijirou a wave of farewell.

“Tch. Shitty smiling jerk,” Katsuki grumbled.

“He seems like a good friend,” Ochako smiled. Katsuki blushed, then shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

“He’s all right. He makes work a hell of a lot less boring.” Ochako snickered at his reluctance to admit his fondness for the boy. It was a very Katsuki thing to do.

They continued to wander the township, eventually arriving upon a stall selling jeweled accessories. Ochako had always admired the hairpins some of the young girls wore when they ventured up to her plum tree and had secretly yearned for a pretty adornment. She released Katsuki’s hand to scamper over to the stall. She cooed over a bright pink one inlaid with round pink gems and styled in the likeness of a plum blossom. The aged man operating the booth smiled kindly.

“Ah, yes. That’s a popular model. The young girls around here fancy it as homage to the Lovers’ Plum.” Ochako blushed as she was unintentionally praised. She held up the hairpin, admiring the way the moonlight played over the crystalline gems. Ochako knew that such items required money to acquire, however, and as a goddess with no human trade, she possessed no funds. A bit blue, she set the hairpin down on the counter- only for Katsuki to throw down a handful of bills.  

“That should cover it, right, old man?” The stall tender pursed his lips and leafed through the wad of cash, handing a few of them back to Katsuki before pushing the hairpin towards Ochako.

“Katsuki, you didn’t have to-” He shushed her and picked up the hairpin. Her eyes widened as he tenderly pushed the accessory into her curling brown hair, pinning the gorgeous flower right above her ear. His hand fell so that his fingertips brushed over her cheekbone, spreading a pink haze in its wake. The pads of his fingers traveled to her mouth, resting over her lips.

“Beautiful.”

It was in that moment that Ochako the plum tree spirit realized that she was head-over-heels in love with the human Katsuki Bakugo.

The Coming of the Colorful Night

A delighted smile graced Ochako’s lips as she admired her reflection in the rain puddle. The flower hairpin glimmered in the sunlight, accenting the rosy blush ever-present in her youthful cheeks. She sighed dreamily and laid on her belly in the damp grass, kicking her feet over her back. She imagined the smirking personage of Katsuki in the water, and the way he smiled so affectionately at her that night. She whispered his name, and just that small action sent tingles of joy flooding through her nerves. With a squeal, she clutched her beating heart and rolled over.

At last, I know what it means to be in love!

It was a wonderful feeling. Ochako knew now why the humans so desperately sought its graces. Her soul felt like it was continually floating on air, giving her a blissful weightless sensation. Her face ached from incessantly smiling, but it was a good ache. She could occupy her mind for hours reminiscing of their many ventures. She sighed wistfully again and watched the breeze toss about the emerald leaves of her tree. The golden light was filtering through, dappling her body with shadow.

Unfortunately, Katsuki would not be visiting today. It was the afternoon of the River God Festival, and the shop owner had insisted on his presence. However, Katsuki did promise to collect her near sundown so that they could watch the fireworks together. When she had inquired if that would anger his boss, he haughtily replied that he didn’t much care. The sun was sinking through the sky, drawing ever closer to the horizon, and Ochako was awaiting his arrival with bated breath.

Tonight, I am going to tell him that I love him!

She rolled onto her belly and watched a ladybird crawl up a blade of grass. Resting her cheek on her forearm and smiling blissfully, she fantasized about her impending confession. Surely, Katsuki loved her as well; she was not ignorant of the way he looked at her. He actively sought out her presence and often called her beautiful or gorgeous, and he always held her hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go. Then that look in his eyes- that look like he was beholding the most sublime creature on earth, one that held his entire body and soul. If that was not love, then Ochako didn’t know what was.

She hopped to her feet when she heard the familiar sound of footsteps.

“Hey, Ochako,” Katsuki beamed when she jumped up to scuttle over to him. She threw her arms around him in a hug, burying her nose into his sternum and breathing in the strong scent of sulfur and gunpowder that clung to him. She had grown used to the odor and now found it very soothing. His strong arms surrounded her in a returned embrace, and he pressed his face into the top of her head. “Are you ready?” She nodded ecstatically and looked up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Let’s go, hurry so that we can find a good spot!” she demanded and tore away from him to start running down the path. He grabbed her wrist, and she jerked back. When she looked at him confusedly, he gestured to the plum tree. “We’ll be able to see them from here?” she asked and looked down the path again, unsure.

“I promise. After all, all we only need to see the sky,” Katsuki said and pointed above their heads. Ochako looked up with a frown. The sky above the plum tree was remarkably clear and wide, not tainted by the light of the township below. Ochako elected to take him at his word, and they tromped over to the tree, sitting at its base. Their sides pressed together, and Katsuki kept their hands linked, running the pad of his thumb over the top of her hand. It made jolts of electricity travel up her arm, but she loved the feeling.

The sun slowly sank into the river, and the watchful night closed in. One by one, the stars blinked into existence, sparkling like gems in the vast expanse of the blue-black sky. The crescent moon hung low, bathing the world in just enough of its glow to cast long black shadows. The gloom enveloped Ochako and Katsuki like a blanket. Even in the darkness, his ruby eyes glimmered as they flickered to her. His smile curled on his lips, but when she went to speak, he put a finger to his mouth and gestured upwards with his chin.

There was a sound like a shriek, and then a resounding pop. Ochako jumped at the sudden noise, but it was soon forgotten as color exploded against the dark backdrop of the night sky. Ruby-red sparkles filled the air, spreading like tree roots across the blackness before fizzling out. More shrieks sounded in the distance, and the sky came alive with more color than Ochako had ever seen. Her mouth hung open as she gawked shamelessly at the splendorous display unfolding before her.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Yeah. It sure is.” She glanced at him to find him staring right at her. That sweet smile like she was the thing dearest to him graced his lips, and his vermilion eyes glimmered with a roaring flame no water could ever douse. Her heart thumped hard against her ribcage as his gaze dropped down to her lips. She gulped slightly, digging her fingers into the fabric of her kimono, as his hand slowly rose to cup her cheek. “Ochako,” he breathed. His thumb traced a trail across her cheekbone in repetitive caresses. She watched with lidded eyes as the colors played across his face, dull glows of red and blue and green and gold kaleidoscoping in a beautiful array. His face edged closer, and her eyes fell closed in anticipation.

His lips molded over hers like the sweetest honey. Ochako’s chest swelled with a deep inhale at the wondrous feeling. It felt like she had long been lost, and she had finally returned home. She pushed into the kiss, desperate for more contact, and her hands jumped forward to splay across his chest. His hand pushed into her hair to grip the back of her head and angle it, kissing her with more fervor. The fireworks continued to explode overhead, but Ochako no longer thought them magical. No, the magical thing was this man in front of her, the man who had appeared so suddenly one day and taught her what it meant to love.

When they pulled apart, tears glimmered in her eyes.

“Katsuki. Katsuki, I love you,” she blurted. The words had ballooned within her, filling her chest with a painful tightness. She suddenly had the suspicion she was going to disappear, perhaps even before her waking eyes. “I love you so much. Please, I-” He gently shushed her and placed two fingers over her lips, then leaned in to press a sweeter, chaste kiss to her mouth. His other hand fell to grasp hers and interlace their fingers.

“I love you too, Ochako,” he murmured against her mouth, eyes still closed. Ochako groaned and melted against him, savoring their way their parted lips meshed and their breath mixed in the warm night air. He gripped her hips and pushed against her, and her body obeyed his silent command, laying back into the cool grass. He climbed atop her, her legs slotting perfectly before his spread knees, and he began to pepper her face with little kisses.

“I’m so fucking grateful I stumbled upon this fucking plum tree-” he growled, his kisses becoming more fervent and open-mouthed. Ochako mewled as he dropped his head to plant lingering, ardent kisses along the column of her neck. His hands kneaded the plush flesh of her hips. She threaded her fingers into his tousled ash-blond hair and peered through her lashes. The emerald leaves of the plum tree blanketed them, and beyond that bloomed a brilliant night sky alive with all the colors of the universe.

There, with only the plum tree and that sky to bear witness, Ochako and Katsuki sealed their love for one another forevermore.

The Coming of the End

Katsuki didn’t come the following day, or the next or the next. Ochako surmised it was the constant rain. It poured endlessly from the heavens like they were weeping, saturating the earth. Puddles bloomed on the ground and grew larger every day, and they melded into each other to create a latticework of water channels and small ponds. The water streamed down the slope of the hill to pool in the lower lands, and soon the path flooded over completely. Isolated atop her lonely knoll with the plum tree, Ochako recalled Katsuki’s hands blazing trails across her body, and the clouds of their breath misting in the cooling night, and the way they sang each other’s names to the skies.

The rain continued for several weeks, and then it stopped. The sun finally breached the barrier of the gray clouds to shower the earth in its spearing rays. Slowly, the voluminous water soaked into the ground. Curious to how the humans fared, Ochako ventured down to the village-

and was greeted with nothing short of a tragedy.

The swelling of the river had ravaged the small settlement. It still exceeded its banks, pouring over the porches of the low-lying houses. Furniture and trinkets and clothes that had once carried sentiment floated in the current, occasionally catching on the spindly fingers of broken branches and even wholly uprooted trees. The wooden walkways were now roads for the river trout, and the townsfolk meandered between the flood buildings in their boats. A few of the vessels had not been so lucky. They were either sunk into the depths of the river or had crashed into the houses. The air was rank with depression and anxiety. The fireworks workshop had collapsed, with the roof sticking up out of the water at an odd angle and the cloth door floating on the surface. Ochako couldn’t find the little accessory stall at all.

Ochako fled back up the hill, unable to bear the sadness any longer. She collapsed at the base of her tree and wept. Clasping her hands together so hard that her knuckles glared white, she prayed, and prayed, and prayed. She prayed for Momo and her fisherman husband, for Kyoka and Mina, for the grumpy fireworks shop owner and Eijirou and the friendly accessory shop owner- and for Katsuki, she prayed aloud until her throat was raw and she was coughing up blood. Yet she kept praying, until finally, darkness took her, and she melted into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, he was sitting up against the plum tree with her head in his lap. She would have jumped up and hugged him if his expression had not been so miserable. His fingers slowly teased through her locks of chestnut hair. He had been doing so a while, as evidenced by the channels parting the swathes of her locks. Frowning, she raised a hand to brush her fingertips over his chin.

“Katsuki, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. When he did, he cast his vermilion eyes into the distance, as if he could not bear to look at her. Finally, he whispered, “You’re going to die, Ochako.”

She sat up, her frown deepening. Katsuki clicked his tongue at her expression of confusion and looked down at his lap.

“What? I don’t understand.”

“The locals say the flood was the wrath of the river god. Apparently, they think that revering the plum tree has angered him, and he flooded the town in vengeance. They-” he choked on his words. He pushed his fist into his mouth as tears blossomed in his eyes. “They’re going to cut the plum tree down.” Ochako paled as frightening realization dawned upon her. Ochako was born of the plum tree and its associated prayers. If they removed the plum tree and ceased to pray, Ochako would disappear. Terrified, she jumped forward to cling to Katsuki, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Katsuki, I don’t want to die!” she wailed in dismay. Her heart hammered in her throat, and a tremor gripped her body. Katsuki threw his arms around her in a smothering embrace, burying his face into her hair as he hiccupped with a broken sob. She snuggled into him, surrounding herself in his warmth and gunpowder scent, as if it could shield her from her coming death. It could not, however; she could hear the mob approaching already, shouts and curses floating on the early morning air.

“I won’t let them,” he snarled and hugged her tighter. Ochako whimpered, but as much as she would admire him for defending her honor, she could not allow it.

“No, Katsuki! If you interfere, they’ll murder you,” she insisted, prying herself away from him. She sucked in a deep breath and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, slowly bringing herself down from the fearful mania. He stared at her incredulously.

“Ochako, if we do nothing, they’ll murder you!”

The shouts and curses grew louder. Birds took to the air, startled by the aggressive ascent of the river folk. Time was running out.

“I have an idea,” Ochako said and hopped to her feet. She clambered into the boughs of her plum tree to pluck the last remaining fruit of the season from its branches. Falling back to the flats of her feet, she tore away the golden flesh to reveal the pit within. She thrust it out to Katsuki, and he took it with startled hands. “This seed contains the essence of my birth tree,” she told him firmly. “Take it far from here and plant it. As long as my tree can bloom once more, and you continue to believe in me, I shall not cease to exist.” She smiled painfully as his expression contorted in pain. His quivering hand brushed over her cheek, and she leaned into his touch.

“Ochako, no,” he begged. Her heart shattered as his voice cracked with agony. The tears flowed down her cheeks like the accursed rain, burning as it trailed over her skin. “I can’t watch them do this.”

“You must, and you will,” she told him gently. She grabbed his hand and turned her head to press a long kiss into his calloused palm. “I will see you again,” she vowed, looking at him with heated brown eyes. He choked out another sob again, then grabbed her wrist to yank her forward. Her body fell upon his, and their lips crashed together in a tumultuous, passionate, heartbroken kiss. Katsuki kissed her right up until the moment the mob stormed into the clearing before she vanished before his eyes. The angry mob shoved him to the side despite his fragmented pleas, and he crashed to the ground. He watched, wide-eyed and clutching the little seed pod to his chest, as they swung the axe into the skinny trunk of the plum tree. It only took the one swing to bore deep into the heart of its wood, and with a noise not unlike an agonized scream, the tree fell backward and crashed into the earth. The leaves quivered with dying breaths, and sap poured like blood from the wound.

The rain began to pour though not a cloud was in the sky. It was as if the world was lamenting the loss of its purest soul.

The Coming of the Legend

Katsuki Bakugo sailed away from the riverside town that very afternoon. He bought a little clay pot and took some soil from the hill to plant the plum tree seed, and he waited. The boat meandered along the river to destination after destination, festival after festival, but the seed did not take root. Yet he waited, optimistic that his love would return. He slept with the little pot of dirt tucked against his chest, and sometimes, he imagined it was Ochako’s heartbeat and not his own pulsing through the clay and earth. Three months went by, but nothing ever sprouted from the seed. Hope was all he had, and he clung to it like a lifeline. His boss once ridiculed him for obsessing over the empty pot and had attempted to toss it into the river, and Katsuki broke the man’s nose and an arm struggling to get it back.

The old fogey finally fired him for that stunt.

Katsuki returned home to his lofty home on the outskirts of Edo. His mother had made her fortune designing kimonos. Even the waiting ladies to the wealthiest samurai wore her designs, or so it was said. Ginkgo trees and cherry blossoms and pines towered above the ornate building, but their sprawling garden did not possess a plum tree. Katsuki found a patch of earth about the size of the hilltop and planted the seed, which had not rotted even after three months in the small pot of soil. He took up a profession cooking and made more money than he ever had crafting fireworks. Every night when he returned home, arms aching and smelling of various spices and meats, he would go to the garden and look for a sprout.

He’d kneel at the spot and pray until his throat bled raw, and blisters burst on his clasped hands, and he would water the earth with his tears.

The servants began to whisper that he had gone mad over the drowning of his lover in the riverside town. His mother and father looked on in concern but allowed Katsuki his grieving. Katsuki had always been a hothead, but his temper shortened a drastic amount; he would scrap with strangers in the streets if they so much as looked at him the wrong way. He punched holes in the walls and kicked over furniture at the slightest provocation. He’d grab his clothes and tear them to shreds, simply because his world was falling apart around him, and he didn’t know how to deal with it.

His muscles wasted, for he had not the care to tend them. Weight sloughed from his frame, as food or drink tasted like ash in his mouth. His body took to a persistent cold, but no doctor could mend him, for his illness was of the heart. The whole world seemed dark, for his sun had been cruelly snuffed out of existence.  

Six months to the day after the felling of the plum tree, he fell to his knees before the buried plum tree seed and beseeched the glittering night sky. He screamed, and he roared, and he yelled, and he cried, begging the gods to take mercy on a virtuous plum tree spirit who graced the world with love and light. The servants looked on in awed horror as he begged the heavens for recompense until dawn began to peek over the horizon, and then darkness took him.

When he awoke, it was beneath the shade of a fully-grown plum tree. His head was cushioned by something soft and plush, and someone was stroking his ash-blond hair with loving fingers. His vision gradually cleared to reveal a smiling brunette, with round cheeks and a blissful smile and eyes like the earth.

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Katsuki.”

As generations came and went, the landscape of Japan changed, and so did the illustrious manor of the Bakugo family- yet the plum tree remained, a monument to an era long lost. The household had been torn down and rebuilt many times over, remodeled by inheritors of the family’s fortune.

Yet, they never touched the plum tree. That’s because everyone knew the legend of the Lovers’ Plum- the saga of a love so powerful that no force on this earth could break it. Rumor says that the plum tree spirit still inhabits the tree and grants wishes of romance to those who reach her ears, and that on nights where fireworks fill the sky, one can see her and her human beloved seated beneath its boughs, holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes. 

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[miracle-sham]

Hold Your Wake Softly, for the Dead Sleep Lightly.

| {MaribatMarch2020, Week 3, Day 17: Grave} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

| Triggers/Warnings: Major Character Death, Temporary Character Death, Graveyards/Cemeteries, Mentions of Death, Explicit Language/Swearing, Blood and Minor Injuries. |

| It's been six months since she died, so Jason goes to visit her grave. Only sometimes things aren't quite as they seem, and dreams are merely reflections of reality. |

| Word Count: 1794 |

-<◊>-

| A/N: So this is probably going to be my last Maribat March ficlet. I've been super busy and I got ill again (which is why I've not responded to comments yet, sorry!), so I've barely been able to get any writing done, and most of the fics are turning out not great. This fic is the only one that turned out well and I'm happy with it. I've not really got else much to say, so uhh enjoy! |

| If you want to be tagged in future oneshots/fics, or a specific Au, then comment or send me a DM/ask! |

| Also side note, Don't Like? Don't Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

-<◊>-

 Jason knows he's dreaming. But what strikes him as odd, is that he's dreaming. He's not dreamt since his dip in the Lazarus Pit. Weathered nightmares and night terrors, sure. But not the stuff of rainbows, sugar plums, and happiness, no. Although, this dream he's dreaming isn't exactly that either, so perhaps it shouldn't be that much of a surprise.

 He can't quite tell where he is. The surroundings are completely unfamiliar. He's on a roof, that much is clear. But it's not a roof in Gotham, no. Jason knows the roofs of Gotham like he knows the back of his hand. If he had to guess, the roof looked European in style, maybe Gothic French/Parisian if he had to guess specifically. There are poles and fairy lights strung up around the roof, and a picnic blanket is laid out with a basket overflowing with sandwiches, pastries, and fresh fruit.

 And as lovely as the scene is, the disconcerting part, is the phantasm sitting beside him. A phantasm in the guise of his lost love. Just sitting there, alive and breathing—with her eyes, so bright, twinkling in the low light—and her dazzling smile, the lovesick one he'd always catch her doing when she thought he wasn't looking.

 Jason can almost imagine the warmth of her. But this is a dream, and she's nothing more than a phantasm. So there's no real warmth. It's just his imagination. Not that that knowledge does anything to ease the aching of his wretched and bleeding heart.

 He's almost tempted to stay here. To indulge in this love-stricken reverie of a dream. But he can't. Not tonight. Not when tomorrow he'll wake with the dawn and trudge over to the cemetery and lay a bouquet of marigolds upon her grave.

 It almost sickens him, to need to leave this place. He'd love nothing more than to hold her in his arms one last time. But she's not real.

Jason feels a need to wake up, for the sliver of peace in the hopes that he'll forget this torturous dream upon waking. It hurts. It hurts so much to be close to her only for her to be a phantasm.

 No sooner does he think this, he feels the darkness of the dream ending pull at him. Tugging him away from the rooftop with her and tossing him into the swirling shadows of dreamless sleep.

-<◊>-

 Except, he doesn't wake up in his bed from a dreamless sleep like he expected to. No, he finds himself in a bleak observatory with a giant window that has a butterfly design in it. The edges of the room are shadowed, as only the window and a circle in the centre of the room are illuminated with faded blue light.

 There's a shimmer in the centre of the illuminated circle, and a young child kneeling on the floor flickers into view. No matter how much he tries to focus, Jason finds himself unable to tell what the child looks like. It's almost as though there's a magical glamour surrounding them that makes it impossible to see their true appearance.

 Jason walks to the edge of the circle and stares at the child. They're holding two pieces of jewellery, one in each hand. In their left hand, is a pair of red and black spotted earrings and in their right hand, is a black and green ring.

 Two strange small creatures float above the child's hands. The one floating over the ring, is a weird-looking purplish-black cat with green eyes. The one floating over the earrings, is an even weirder looking red and black spotted bug thing.

 Jason squints then furrows his brow, the child and the creatures appear to not have noticed him yet. Yet.

 “I want to make a wish.” The child says solemnly.

 The bug creature looks pained at that statement. “There'll be consequences.”

 “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” The cat creature pipes up.

 The child bites their lip. “I know and I don't care. I want to bring the previous Ladybug holder back to life.”

 The bug creature starts to tear up. “Mar—” it pauses. “The previous holder has been dead for six months.”

 A chill runs down Jason's back and his mouth becomes inexplicably dry. Fuck, he thinks weakly. They're talking about her. He drags a hand down his face and bitterly blinks back tears, feeling so fucking conflicted.

 The child tilts their head to the side and closes their eyes for a minute. “I know. I still want to bring them back. Again, I don't care about the price. The previous holder shouldn't have died.”

 The cat creature narrows its eyes at the child. “If you bring the previous holder back with the wish, it won't be an immediate revival. Whoever pays the price for the wish will spend the next six months slowly wasting away as the previous holder returns to life.”

 Jason feels sick because as much as he misses her like a lost limb, he doesn't want to subject her to the trauma of coming back to life and digging herself out of her own grave, like he did.

 The child hums. “Like a portable charger? Drain the power in one object to recharge the other object?”

 Huffing, the cat creature rolls in its eyes. “That's one way of putting it.”

 The child nods. “Do I get to choose who pays the price?”

 “No, the person who pays the price must be of equal value to the previous holder. For example, you couldn't pay the price because you're too young and don't use a power to achieve a goal.” The bug creature explains, shaking its head.

 The child frowns and puts the earrings and ring on. “Okay. Tikki Spots on. Tikki, Plagg, Unify.”

 The following flash of bright light temporarily blinds Jason.

 “Using the power of the Ladybug Miraculous of Creation and the Cat Miraculous of Destruction, I wish that...—”

 The world fades to darkness and silence before Jason can hear the rest of the wish.

-<◊>-

 It's the dawning of the wake, with its claggy skies above and claggier mud underfoot; rain splatters against the pavement in a constant solemn cadence. Rusted wrought iron railings are all that stands between him and his love.

 Jason treads slowly, shoulders hunched, gaze averted. He's walked this path before. Too many times, the others would claim. He bites his lip and blinks back tears. He follows the path to the marble gravestone, her gravestone.

 Falling to his knees upon the grave's soil, he lightly traces the stone's engravings with one finger, silently muttering along.

 When he runs out of words to trace, he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against the stone. Digging his hands into the grass and soil, he can't help but let out a hollow sob.

 The minutes ebb by as he slowly recomposes himself. The cold wet mud of the grave clings to him, both that and the rain chills him to the bone.

 He sighs, then swallows thickly. “Hey, Mari. I know missed visiting you last week, I'm sorry. I got caught in a bit of a scuffle in our—uh night job.” He quickly glances around incase anyone's nearby, but on such a dreary day like this, there's not another soul in sight. “I attempted to bake your signature macaroons last night. They turned out fairly well but they're shit in comparison to how you get them to turn out.” He chuckles hollowly.

 “Last night whilst out on the night job, I found a tiny blue kitten with the most piercing blue eyes ever. Kinda reminded me of you, so I kinda ended up adopting it. I think you both would get along like a house on fire if you met. I was going to bring her today, but well you can see what the weather's like. Don't really want to get the thing sick when it's like this.” Jason rambles idly, not really putting too much thought into what he's saying.

 He huffs and pauses for a second, “Actually speaking about last night, I had the fucking weirdest of dreams. And it wasn't just a weird pit nightmare like it usually is—”

 He's cut off as a swarm of black ladybirds converge around the cemetery. On autopilot, Jason stumbles to his feet and backs away from her grave, eyeing the swarm with calculative apprehension.

 As he does that, the swarm sweep over her grave before dissipating into the sky.

 Jason holds his breath, waiting to see what the ladybirds did.

 A minute passes in silence, and just as he's about to step closer, a muffled and sickening scream emanates from beneath the grave. Fragments of last night's dream rise to the forefront of Jason's mind. “Fuck!”

 He throws himself forwards and starts desperately digging into the mud with his hands. “Come on, come on, come on…” Each second passes as slow as molasses but eventually, the mud starts to gradually give way underneath him.

 A grasping hand breaches the surface and starts frantically clawing at the ground. A wave of nausea hits Jason like a brick wall. He hesitates for a split second before fixating on digging up the mud around the hand. With each scoop of mud dug away, the hole around the hand starts to widen and widen until a second hand breaches the surface. With increased desperation, Jason continues to dig and dig and dig.

 After another couple of minutes digging, the hole's big enough that Jason can see the coffin shards and ripped scraps of clothing among the mud. He grabs at the arms and pulls with everything he has but the resistance is nearly equal.

 Gritting his teeth, he continues to pull until the resistance against him suddenly weakens and he stumbles back, dragging the cor—body of Marinette out of the grave.

 Jason let's go of her after a second and drinks in the sight of her, alive and breathing. Under his breath, he whispers, “Mari…”

 Frankly, she looks awful. Skin pallid, eyes bloodshot and glassy, freckles faded, hair dull, hands bloody. Her clothes are ripped, muddied, and bloodied. Earthworms, as well as other underground creepy crawlies, fall off her.

 Her eyes manage to focus on him for a second but almost immediately after, her eyes roll back and she collapses, unconscious.

 Jason rushes forwards and grabs her, to stop her from hitting the ground. Dazed, he fumbles for his phone and calls Bruce. “Marinette's alive.” He immediately blurts out, “She fucking dug herself out the fucking grave and she's unconscious and injured.” It takes all his willpower not to choke on his words.

 “We'll ready the medbay. Tim will pick you, he'll be there in five.”

-<◊>-

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments, likes, and reblogs are much appreciated! |

| @maribat-march2020 | | @vixen-uchiha |

[euphoria-vmin7]

Heartworm | pjm

pairing: park jimin x reader

genre/warnings: childhood friends to lovers, angst (I can’t write anything else), fluff, a shit ton of cliches, non idol! au, TOO MANY FEELZ, um does black-haired jimin count as a warning? THIS IS SOME REAL DRAMATIC SHIT

words: 26,141 (omg u need to calm tf doWN REY)

--summary: maybe you shouldn’t have believed that friendships lasted forever. after all, people change and grow before choosing a path. but maybe fate can pull a few more strings for you. especially after you realize that a certain friend means more to you than you first thought.

a/n: i dont know what to say lol....idek what this is anymore. I started this at the end of september. SEPTEMBER. I wanted to publish this for his birthday but I’m a slow ass writer. plus i didn’t expect it to get this long. i just kept writing and writing and came up with this MESS soooooo.....happy jimin day?

Heartworm

heart·worm

n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished. 

***

At five years old, you hurt someone for the first time. 

But you are only five years old so you aren't as strong as you think you are. You fully intend on being intimidating, but all that comes across is a whine as you shove the chest of the boy in front of you.

You had been minding your own business, enjoying your time on the playground during your regularly scheduled recess time at preschool. You were trying your absolute hardest to use strands of grass to spell out your name on the pavement. Your tiny fingers would reach over to the patch of grass next to you and pluck out a piece before laying it gently to form the letters. A small smile played on your face and your tongue occasionally peeked past your lips in concentration. 

You felt so at ease, just as any other five year old would have felt. A light breeze blew through your short hair and the sun was high up in the sky, making it easy for you to see your own shadow crouched over the art you were creating. 

You had just gotten to the last letter when things had to go wrong. 

A soccer ball came whirling down and hit the pavement in front of you with a loud smack. The force of its impact scattered the grass you had placed on the ground and it bounced away. 

You look down at the now meaningless pieces and utter disappointment blossoms your chest. Unknowingly, your eyes began to fill with tears. You stand up with tiny fists curled at your sides, looking around for the culprit. The horrible meanie head that decided to ruin your art. 

"I got it!!" you hear someone yell and a boy bounds past you. You watch him go pick up the ball and begin walking back to his friends and anger flares in your chest. 

"HEY!" 

The boy looks at you in surprise. 

"You meanie!"

"What?" he asks in confusion. You take a good look at him. He was basically your height, with fair skin and crescent shaped eyes. He had chubby cheeks and plump lips that were curved into an awkward frown. You curl your lip in distaste. 

"You messed up my drawing!!" you yell angrily, stomping your foot on the ground. He blinked. 

"W-What drawing?" he asks, now holding the ball under his arm. 

You dramatically point at the ground where your scattered grass lay and the boy squinted. He could briefly make out the remnants of some letter of the alphabet and he turned back to you. 

"Oh sorry," he smiles sheepishly. But you weren't having it. 

"That took me a bajillion hours!! You bad poopy head!!" 

He gasps at the horrid insult. 

"I am not a poopy head!!" he yells back. 

"You are!!" 

"No I'm not!!" 

"You are!!" 

"I'm not!!" he says back, now glaring at you with a childish hand on his hip. "And your drawing is so ugly!" 

You gasp, slapping a hand over your heart as though he had physically hurt you. 

"You-!" you spluttered over your words, the anger now taking over. "You are a poopy head!!"

You step forward, placing your stubby hands on his chest and shoving him hard. The boy yelped as he lost balance, stumbling back a few steps before landing on his butt. 

His head whipped up, brows furrowed in an angry frown. 

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?! YOU’RE SUCH A BABY!!” he yelled. 

Your anger fizzled out and was instead replaced by sadness and disappointment. The fact that your grass artwork was destroyed and the way this boy was yelling at you made your lip shake. More tears started pooling in your eyes. 

“Y-You’re a bad p-people!” you whimpered pathetically, raising your chubby fists to your cheeks where tears started trailing down. The boy stood up, a frown still on his face as up picked up the ball that had slipped out of his grasp when he had fallen over. 

You, having dramatic tendencies like any five year old, started crying for real, putting your face in your palms. You heard some shuffling. 

“H-Hey now,” a small voice muttered. “Please don’t cry. I’m sorry for being a poopy head. Your drawing was not ugly,” 

You raised your head slightly, your tears halting too quickly. 

“R-Really?” you sniffled. 

He smiled widely, showing off pearly white teeth with a few gaps in between. He nodded eagerly. 

“Yup!” he chirped. “The ball fell on it while we were playing. Sorry!” 

Your tears halted completely and you too beamed at him. 

“It’s okay! Wanna be friends with me??” 

“Yeah!!” he said excitedly. 

“I’m (Name)! (Last Name) (Name)!!” you smiled. “I’m five!!” 

“Ooh I’m six! And my name is Park Jimin!! Now we’re friends!!” 

***

At seven years old, you have your first crush. 

He is seven, like you, and he’s in your class. When your teacher lines up your second grade class, you hurry to stand behind him, blushing heavily and twirling your short hair around your pointer finger. 

“Jinwoo, why don’t you come solve the problem on the board?” your teacher asks sweetly and you beam as the cute boy stands up from his seat and walks up to the board. 

112 +17 = 129

His handwriting was pretty. (Though what would you know? You were still seven; even scribbles would be considered pretty to you). 

The teacher nods with a satisfied smile and Jinwoo grins proudly, making you blush from the back of the classroom. 

“Alright, that’s enough of math. Why don’t we go outside to see our butterflies for science today?” 

So, you eagerly trip over your pink sneakers and run to stand behind Jinwoo. He turns to look at you and grins at you and you turn away obviously, smiling just a bit. 

Your class, lined up neatly, begins walking through the hallways to go outside. You could count the stripes on Jinwoo’s shirt and see the slight sheen of golden in his straight brown hair. 

“We’re passing the third graders. Everyone stick to the left side!” 

You briefly tear your eyes away from Jinwoo and look to the line of slightly taller kids walking past your class. 

You catch a familiar gaze and grin. 

Park Jimin walks past you, his eyes crinkling into crescents at the sight of you. 

“Hi (Name),” he whispers as he passes. 

“Hi Jiminie,” you giggle. And then he is out of sight. 

You enjoy your time outside with the butterflies, feeling fluttery when Jinwoo laughs at them or falls into the grass along with his friends. 

Your happiness stays with you throughout recess. As you crouch down, dragging a piece of chalk across the pavement, a pair of blue sneakers run up to you. 

“Whatcha drawing?” a voice asks. You peek up and smile at Jimin. 

“A butterfly! Is it pretty, Jimin?” 

Jimin nods quickly, plopping down on the pavement. 

“Ew, Jiminie! Don’t sit on the floor! It’s dirty! You’re gonna catch germs!” you warn him, crinkling your nose in disgust. He grins toothily. 

“No I won’t!” 

But you don’t really pay attention to him. Instead, your eyes stray to where Jinwoo is kicking a soccer ball around with his friends. 

“Who ya looking at?” Jimin squints to catch the interesting sight. You don’t move and he realizes that you are indeed staring at one of those boys. 

“Why are you looking at them?” 

You look up at him with wide eyes. Your seven year old mind is racing. 

“Jiminie, you’re my bestest friend. So I’m gonna trust you and tell you a really really really big secret!” 

Jimin leans closer to you, voice quieting to a whisper. 

“What secret?” 

“You know Kim Jinwoo?” you ask him. 

“The one in your class?” Jimin inquires. You nod. “What about him?” 

“I think I….” you take a dramatic breath. “I think I love him,” 

Jimin’s hands fly to his mouth and his brows shoot up. 

“No way!! That guy?” 

You nod seriously. 

“I dreamt about marrying him,” 

Jimin’s jaws remain agape as he takes in this juicy piece of gossip. 

“Oh no! (Name), I think we’re too little to get married,” he sighs. 

“Whatever,” you dismiss. “I know I love Jinwoo and I’m going to marry him. And at my wedding, you’ll be my best man!” 

He laughs. 

“Isn’t the best man for the boy?” 

You blink before resuming your tracing on the ground. 

“Oh? Then I guess you can be my bridesmaid!” 

***

At 12 years old, it suddenly hurts to go to school. 

Perhaps it is the total disregard you had for your own image. 

Up until now, it seemed that nobody really cared about others. People were just friends no matter how one looked or dressed. 

But when you turned 12 and entered the seventh grade, everyone began to discuss being pretty and discuss cute boys and discuss who was taking who to the winter dance. 

You didn’t know it would be this way. 

So you didn’t take any care of your body image. Throughout the summer you had eaten to your heart’s content and leisurely watched as much television as you liked. Naturally, you put on a bit of weight. But you didn't necessarily know that once you turned 12 people would suddenly start expecting you to be skinny. And soon enough as the year went on, you started feeling a little bit worse whenever you looked at yourself in the mirror. You stopped wearing form-fitting clothes and instead drowned your body in bland oversized sweatshirts. Watching the girls who had the body totally pull off clothes you only aspired to wear made going to school feel like a liability. 

You push every tray of school pizza away from you despite the grumbling of your starved stomach. Looking down at it, it seemed so appetizing even with its grease, especially since you had skipped breakfast too. But one glance at the chubbiness of your thighs made you push it away without a second thought. 

That's how you had been getting by anyway. Until that day. 

A sharp smack to your shoulder made you wince. 

You quickly whipped around to see a familiar disapproving frown. 

"What the hell, (Name)?"

"What?" 

"Why aren't you eating, huh?" 

You blinked as guilt arose in your chest. Jimin's frown deepens and he quickly sits next to you. He reaches for the tray and pulls it in front of you before looking at you expectantly. 

"I don't feel like eating, Jiminie,"

He sighs. 

"Don't lie to me. You're obviously starving. Why won't you eat?" 

"Don't worry about it," you mutter, turning away from him. 

"HEY JIMIN!! C'MERE!!" a few boys were yelling from across the cafeteria. 

"You should go," you urge, nudging his elbow gently in the direction of his eighth grade friends.

“Not until you put some food in your mouth. And that doesn’t meet spit it out later!!” he scolds, crossing his arms. You pout, but do as he says. After all, you knew more than anyone, how stubborn Jimin could be. 

He smiles a bit in approval. Though his attention tears from you at the yells from his friends. 

“I gotta go. See you later, (Name)!” 

By the end of the year, you were eating meals regularly. 

***

At 15 years old, your friendships change. 

Your second year in high school had been nothing short of hell. Schoolwork had become more tedious and managing your social life became a chore. You could only wish to be one of those kids who had it all. The brains, beauty, and just the fact that everyone wanted to be around you. Unfortunately you were just average. There was nothing special about you. You could go a whole day without being at school and nobody would notice you were gone, save for the few friends you’ve acquainted over the years. You couldn’t help but keep wishing you had been likeable. 

You had been watching your friends acquire dates for school dances and bail out on hanging out with you to hang out with their significant others. But it wasn’t that big of a deal because you are still only 15 years old. 

But you also lack a close friendship. You lack a person to go to whenever you really need to rant or to cry or to laugh. 

You thought you had that, but you didn’t. 

You thought you had that in Park Jimin, but you didn’t. 

Oh, Jimin. 

The Jimin you had met in preschool had left. The Jimin you were friends with in the second grade had changed. The Jimin you knew in the seventh grade had disappeared. 

And instead in his place was this Jimin. 

This Jimin, the 16 year old Jimin, the Jimin in the junior year, wasn’t your Jimin. 

Your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to him. This new Jimin. Just like everyone else couldn’t help but keep their eyes on him. Obviously, for he had definitely changed. 

In looks, maybe not so much. He still had the slight chubbiness to his cheeks, the same crooked front teeth, the same straight black hair, the same kind crescent shaped eyes. But he wasn’t as shy as he was as a second grader. Instead he now caught the attention of everyone around him. He was intelligent and charming. 

So naturally, he garnered positive attention. He had been his year’s class president since he was a freshman. He was one of the star members of the school Dance Team. He had won regional competitions all over Busan. He was dating Kim So Jung, one of the prettiest and most popular girls in the eleventh grade. And no, she is not one of the rude girls, but rather she is sweet and kind and intelligent. He has the best grades and plays on the Boy’s Soccer Team and he is just perfect. 

Everyone loves him. Everyone wants to be around him. 

And you are gradually forgotten. It breaks your heart. It really does. It breaks your heart that the only interaction you have with him now is an awkward smile in the halls as you pass. It breaks your heart that there are never any text messages from him, let alone calls. It breaks your heart that you cannot go to him when you need him most. 

He is not the same. Neither are you. 

He just isn’t the Jimin that you once knew. And that’s fine. People change; you know that. You cannot blame him for anything. It is not his fault. He isn’t a bad person or anything. He just has other interests and better friends. He is also older than you. Why would he prefer to spend time with a younger kid than people of his own age? 

You accept this. You decide that it is good for the both of you. It’s time you became a bit more social and enjoy yourself to the best of your ability. 

It is your sophomore year of high school that you make an important friendship. You know this friendship will last a long time. 

Your closest friend becomes Hirai Momo. She has just moved to your school and she is nothing short of a sweetheart. She is pretty and kind and loving and smart. And she is the greatest friend you could have asked for. 

You tell her everything about yourself as does she. And you are happy. Halfway through the year both of you meet Lee Jihoon. And he easily joins your little circle and you become an inseparable trio. 

Everything goes just fine, until you are assigned partners for writing a story in your Journalism class. This class, an elective, was open to all grades, and just to your luck, you got assigned to none other than Park Jimin. 

A part of you was relieved. You knew it could have been a lot worse. You could have ended up with someone you didn’t know at all. Or even worse, someone who was unkind or like a bully. 

But you got assigned to your friend. So that made you happy. 

But another part of you was slightly nervous. It had been a substantial amount of time since the two of you had spoken, and you wanted to avoid the inevitable awkwardness. But nonetheless, when you hear his name, you can’t help but smile. 

That smile faltered when you looked to Jimin. His friends were looking at him with a look of pity mixed with humor. As though they felt bad for him but also wanted to make fun of him. 

“Sorry man,” you heard one of the seniors  - Ha Sungwoon, you think his name is - mutter with a slightly sympathetic smirk. The way Jimin responds makes you almost gasp. 

“This is gonna suck,” he mutters. 

So does this mean...he is ashamed to be your partner? Or perhaps annoyed? Upset? Angry? 

Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t seem good. So when it is time for you to join him, you approach him feeling nervous, upset, and scared. 

He doesn’t say much, only a quiet “Hey,” as you take a seat. You both briefly discuss how you both will split the workload and start the project. It is quiet between you two, and you hate the fusion of tension and awkwardness in the air. You decide to be brave. You decide to be the one who tries. 

“H-How have you been?” you ask, looking up from your work to him. He doesn’t raise his head. 

“Fine,” he replies, short and quick. There is no how about you or thanks for asking. 

It is just fine. 

You are not stupid. You can understand disinterest when you see it. So you shut your mouth and continue working for the rest of class, your heart mourning the loss of a friend. 

He just packs up and leaves with his friends at the end of class, despite the two of you not finishing your work. You know that the two of you still have to discuss how you will finish. So once again you try to be brave. 

After school as you walk home with Jihoon, you whip your phone out to text Jimin. You notice that it takes a lot of time to scroll all the way down to his contact and that makes you sad. Regardless, as you find his name you type up the most formal text message you can manage, stating exactly what work you will do and what he can do and you hesitate, but click send anyway. 

You only care about your grades. Not about your partner. 

You watch the screen for a few minutes, slightly droning out Jihoon’s rambling about the girl in math class who had confessed to him earlier in the day, and await a response. 

It doesn’t come though, and your mood drops even further into a dark pit as you tuck your phone away. 

You walk with Jihoon to his doorstep, waving to his mother and politely declining her offer of snacks and head home. 

You feel weird. It was like a part of you was missing. 

Although you understood that deep inside you knew that Jimin was not going to be the same. Deep inside you had already realized that you both had drifted too far. You both had changed too much and now you knew that you would never be the same again. 

That didn’t stop it from really hurting though. 

You tried to distract yourself from thinking about him by starting up the pile of homework you had. You were sure that as you progressed into the later years of high school it would be a lot worse, but you were already so stressed. 

A couple of hours later, when you had finished graphing the last parabola, you decided to move onto Journalism. Knowing very well that you and Jimin had to work on this together, you decided to kill your suspense and check whether there had been a response from him. Turning on your phone, the home screen didn’t show any new notifications and your heart sunk. You opened up your messages and scrolled to Jimin’s name, just to check if it sent or not. Just in case. 

You wish you didn’t, because then you wouldn’t have found out the Jimin had left you on read. 

To any other person, it wouldn’t seem like much. But to you, it meant a lot. Because four years ago the two of you had promised to never leave each other on read. 

Ever. 

And sure it might have been some stupid 11 year old promise but the two of you stuck to that rule for the longest time. 

Well, I guess not anymore. 

You had lost him now. It was confirmed. Park Jimin was no longer your best friend.

In fact, he wasn’t even your friend anymore. 

You were nobody to him. 

And unfortunately, that made you cry. You cried and cried. 

People who don’t go through it wouldn’t understand the feeling. They’ll shrug it off, saying that it’s just a stupid friend. You’d find more friends, it’s not a big deal. 

But it was a big deal. 

He was your first best friend and you thought he always would be. 

Guess not. 

Your mother came home and immediately panicked seeing you in your state of tears. 

She ran to you and began to demand what was wrong and so you told her. You told her about how high school was rough and you had so much work and that you just lost Jimin and didn’t even understand why. 

“Oh honey,” she sighed with sympathy in her eyes as she rubbed your back. “I’m so sorry. I know you really cared about Jimin. I can’t believe he isn’t your friend anymore. It’s so sad,” 

You could only sniffle and nod. 

“I know it’ll take some time to get used to it, (Name). But don’t let it bring you down. You have Momo and Jihoon, right? They’re true friends,” 

She was right. 

“It might seem like it’s bad now, but you will get over it. Sometimes things don’t work out. Especially friendships,” 

***

At 17 years old, you think you are in love for the first time. He is sweet and kind and always laughing. He has a beautiful smile that lights up the room and eyes that express the happiness he always seems to feel. He is your age, with short brown hair and honey-like brown eyes. 

His name is Choi Youngjae and you can’t help but like him. 

He isn’t very popular but has a substantial amount of friends and you know that he treasures them. 

So you spend the first few months of your last year before college blushing like a schoolgirl, as embarrassing as that sounds. It can’t be helped though. 

You’ve fallen, and fallen hard. 

Jihoon thinks you are ridiculous, as he remarks almost everyday. And Momo laughs and teases you at every opportunity. You don’t mind though. In fact it makes you very happy. Because you can tell that you will have those two for the rest of your life. 

The weeks go on and all you can do is pine from afar. You like being able to do so; it reduces the stress of a confession or the likes of it. Even though a part of you is wishing to be able to date him and let him take you to the prom. But you have come to terms that it will most likely never happen and that the universe doesn't play favorites. 

But that doesn't deter your mood. With such good friends and a sweetheart for a crush you don't have much to worry about. 

Especially since you don't have to worry about seeing Park Jimin in the hallways. You don't have to worry about texting him for a Journalism project. 

Nope. None of it. 

Because Jimin had graduated last year and was probably having the time of his life in college. But you didn't want to spend time plaguing your thoughts with him. 

So instead you tried focusing on your teacher. But that didn't happen either because you were distracted once again by the familiar head of floppy light brown hair.As she assigned the next task for the class, you stood up to go sit with Jihoon as partners. 

"Okay you do these four problems and I'll do these ones," he said, pulling out his notebook and beginning to label the problems. 

You nodded half-heartedly as you begin working on the problems. 

A loud laugh cut off your train of thought and you couldn't help but smile. You knew that laugh. 

Risking a peek, you saw Youngjae laughing his ass off at something his friends had said. The same way he always did. Jihoon grinned at you knowing fully well what was on your mind. 

"Shut up," you muttered, though it was hardly serious considering the smile on your face. 

He snorted and continued working while you continued sneaking glances at your unrequited crush. 

Though, you didn't expect to be noticed. 

You almost have a seizure when Youngjae’s pretty brown eyes meet yours from across the classroom. You physically choke and began hacking and Jihoon clicks his tongue and begins smacking your back. How embarrassing. 

Though when you sneakily glance back up, Youngjae is shyly grinning at you. 

You look away to hide your smile. 

***

At 18 years old, you have your first break up. It is one month before you turn 19 and one month before you officially start college. It is nerve-wracking but also relieving because you have survived the hell known as high school. 

But that means letting go of some important people in the process. You know it’s not forever; in fact there are many methods for you to stay in touch with them. But it is sad because you know you won’t get to see them everyday like you used to. 

Your bedroom is clean, neat, and slightly bare as you survey it. Your closet is mostly empty as you have packed a majority of your clothes and transferred it to Seoul where your university is. Your father comes in and gently places a hand on your shoulder. He offers you a slightly melancholic smile and you are already missing him. 

“Ready to go?” he asks you and you nod with a soft smile, reaching up to hug him. He releases you and smiles once again before making his way out of his room. Your sister, who is going to be a freshman now, is helping your mom pack some homemade food for you, knowing very well that you will miss it. 

You take another glance around and think of all the times you’ve had in this very bedroom. 

You can remember Momo and a few other girls sitting on your bed and applying makeup for each other on the night of the senior prom. You can remember Jihoon laying on the floor with you under a horde of blankets as you watched scary movies on your computer with the lights off. You can remember playing dolls with your eight year old sister. You can remember your dad lifting you up and running around to make you feel as though you were flying. You can remember your mother gently lulling you to sleep as she read the lines of some fairytale. 

And sadly, you can remember all ages of Park Jimin playing in your bedroom. You see the six year old Jimin giggling with you when both of you are covered in mud. You see the eight year old Jimin teaching you how to dance, his chubby fingers linked with yours as he twists you around the room. You see the 13 year old Jimin sitting on your bed, a soft frown on his face as he looks down at you. His arm is securely wrapped around your shoulders and you are crying because you think you are too fat, too ugly. 

And then, 13 year old Jimin disappears into a wisp of smoke and you only then realize that you are silently crying. It is hard not to miss everything that has happened. 

You meet your roommate. She is a sweet and pretty girl named Sana Minatozaki and she is in your year. She has moved from Osaka to study in Seoul and you both decide to help each other out. 

As soon as you’re settled in, you call Momo to find out how she is doing. She is going to university in Japan, and you miss her a lot. She is still the same as always when you speak with her. You catch up, telling each other about leaving home and how the dorms were and what your campus was like. 

In the midst of the call, you add Jihoon, who is studying classical music, and talk with both of them for hours. 

A slightly sour topic is brought up. 

“Hey...how are you doing? You know…? After the…..” Momo cannot bring herself to continue, but you know what she means. It’s sweet, how much she cares for you. 

“I’m fine,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand.

“Are you sure?” Jihoon asks. “I know Youngjae meant a lot to you,” 

Ah, Youngjae. 

The first person you had ever loved. And the first boyfriend you had ever had. 

The first part of your senior year of high school was spent in dejected thoughts of an unrequited crush. But unbeknownst to you, fate was sometimes on your side. 

Well, fate had given you Youngjae, anyway. 

You didn’t see it happening. You always thought your feelings would go unnoticed. 

But it turned out that Youngjae had returned your feelings which made you the happiest a girl could be. That one day, after his friends Yugyeom and Bambam had gleefully shoved him up to you and he had shyly asked you out was one of the best days of your life. Starting then, he was yours throughout the year. 

He had been the perfect definition of a boyfriend. He had taken you on dates, helped you with homework, even took you to prom. But on your side, guilt started gnawing at your insides. As the year went on, you started feeling as though it was slightly forced. You loved Youngjae, you really did. But you didn’t feel like he was the sole reason that your life was happy and you almost felt as though you were pushing yourself through this relationship. 

It wasn’t his fault; he was nothing but a sweetheart and you loved him for everything he did. But maybe it was because you knew from early on that your relationship was going to come to an end. Youngjae wanted to go to school for Theatre and Film and you were looking into Journalism and Writing. And though both of you were planning on studying in Seoul, it still felt as though you were both traveling down separate paths. 

So, the breakup was tough. 

It had broken your heart, since you had been so in love with him for almost two years, but you knew it was for the best. Your relationship would just be too much to handle. You were both applying to different schools, had different interests, and wanted different things out of life. Besides, you wanted to first get used to college before you could maintain a steady relationship. 

You both dragged out the time leading up to the impending breakup for as long as you could. You spent the summer before college basking in each other’s company and giggling about memories that only stupid high school kids could make. It felt nice, and you suddenly remembered why you were so in love with him. 

By God, Choi Youngjae is perfect. 

But to both of you, college meant a fresh start. 

So you promised that it wasn’t goodbye. If your feelings still stayed, then maybe the future would bring you both back to each other.

Despite it all, you cry when you get home. It is a weird feeling in your chest, as though you have lost something that wasn’t quite yours. It is a nostalgic feeling, lingering somewhere in the recesses of your past subconscious, linked to someone who seems all too familiar. 

But it is kind of easy to let him go. 

That tells you one thing: 

It wasn’t really love. 

***

You celebrate your 19th birthday after 3 weeks of college. Sana, who has already become like your sister, takes you out to a restaurant that is just outside of campus. You have a lot of fun with her. She clutches her stomach as she laughs while you animatedly recall the most recent experience in your Literature class and grin at her obvious amusement. You shovel some grilled chicken into your mouth as she speaks to you. 

It is one of your best birthdays just because you feel at ease in the best way possible. Sure, there are countless assignments still waiting for you at home and you've skipped your part time job to come out tonight, but it's your birthday, and you deserve to enjoy yourself. 

The first thing that interrupts your night is loud laughter. 

Sana turns around to look at the door as a group of guys flood into the restaurant, talking loudly with one another. She turns back to you and starts up the conversation once again, ignoring the group of chattering males that take a seat in the booth by the window. You do the same, continuing with the chicken in front of you. 

"Well fuck Taehyung, I can't believe you did that!!" one of them yells in disbelief, though you can hear the grin in his voice. The voice sounds familiar, and you quickly glance to the side to see Ha Sungwoon from your high school. 

"Oh jeez," you mutter. Sana raises a brow. 

"What?" 

"I know that guy," you sigh. It's not like you had anything against Sungwoon; you had never really spoken to him. But he was his friend. 

"Which one?"

"The one in the red shirt," 

"Ah," 

You manage to drone them out and giggle as Sana talks badly about one of her professors. 

"Where is your boyfriend, Tae?" 

You look to see who is being addressed and almost spit out your drink. Because someone that attractive should not be allowed to exist. 

He has light brown hair that is parted down the side and a dark headband is wrapped around his temple, exposing his forehead. His skin is golden tan and he has dark brown eyes. His smile is the killer though; it is rectangular and you’re sure he’s charmed a million people with that smile before. 

“Shut up, hyung,” the guy mutters with a playful roll of his eyes and in the deepest voice you had ever heard in your life. “He’s my best friend, not my boyfriend. I’m straight,” 

The other man grins in response. 

“He’s probably still at the studio. You know how the idiot is about dancing,” ‘Tae’ sighs, whipping out his phone to presumably text the person in question. 

“Yup, he’s been like that for as long as I’ve known him,” Sungwoon comments. ‘Tae’ smiles softly. You turn away to look at Sana and she questions your expression. 

“People that attractive shouldn’t exist,” you mutter, jerking your head to the side. Sana laughs. 

“What, you mean Kim Taehyung?” 

“Is that his name?” you ask, genuinely curious. She nods. 

“He’s in my Filmmaking class and a second year. Really popular,” 

“I can tell. He’s way too good-looking for anyone to ignore him,” She agrees with you. “Just like you. You’re way too pretty,” you grin at her and she looks at you, appalled. 

“No way!! You’re prettier!!” 

Your jaw physically drops at her statement. 

“No way!” 

You spend the next few minutes bickering with her on the useless topic. You weren’t ugly. But you weren’t gorgeous like Sana was either. You were average. In fact, you felt as though puberty had just hit you as you graduated high school. You grew an inch or two taller and your acne had cleared up. You had grown your hair out so that it was a change from your normal short hair. But that didn’t make you much more beautiful. It’s fine; you loved yourself anyway. 

“Finally!” Sungwoon groans and you look up at the door. 

Big mistake. 

You knew that there was a chance he’d be here. You had heard from so many people that he had gone to school in Seoul. But that didn’t make it any easier to see his face. 

Park Jimin looks up from his phone, grinning at his friends. 

The amount of change you see from eighth grade Jimin is slightly shocking. 

His hair is still black, but instead of the classic ‘coconut’ hairstyle he had before, it is parted on the side, exposing his forehead and resting against his skin in fluffy strands. His skin is as clear as it’s always been (he’d always been particular about skincare) and he has grown much taller than before. While you were taller than him in middle school, now he could use your head as an armrest if he so desired. His arms were toned with muscles easily visible from the plain white T-shirt he was wearing. His muscled thighs were covered with black skinny jeans and you had to physically tear your eyes away to avoid staring. 

His smile was still the same. His eyes crinkle up into crescents when he grins at his group. 

You had gradually stopped remembering him as he moved out of your life. It had become easier to talk to him and walk by his house without waving to his mother. But now that you’re seeing him, the feeling of missing him hits you tenfold. You shakily smile at Sana as she continues to talk, thankful that she didn’t notice your moment of weakness. Though you can’t help but keep your ears open. 

Behind Jimin enters another young man who is slightly taller than him but equally as handsome. He too is very toned and he has a wide smile that brightens up the whole room.

“Oh? Hoseok hyung? I thought you said you couldn’t make it?” Taehyung grins, looking at the man behind Jimin. Hoseok shrugs. 

“Eh, I needed a break,” 

“Well don’t just stand there,” another guy at the table with Taehyung says boredly. He has mint green hair, very pale skin, and dark cat-like eyes. “Sit down,” 

Jimin walks straight past you as you turn your head to the opposite side. 

“What’s wrong?” Sana asks, leaning forward and lowering her voice to a whisper. 

“You know the one in the white T-shirt?” you ask, covering one half of your face with your palm. She nods. 

“Yeah, Park Jimin? He’s Taehyung’s best friend,” 

A sharp stab of pain hits your chest as you remember the time when that used to be you. 

“Yeah, him. We grew up together. We used to be best friends when we were younger but then…” you trailed off. Sana grew sympathetic. 

“Let me guess: he thought he’d found better friends and forgot about you?” 

“Basically,” you mutter. She waves her hand. 

“Who cares?! His loss. It’s your birthday; don’t think about that loser! Besides I get my wife all to myself now,” she winks and you grin. “Are you done with your dinner, wife?” 

You nod with a smile. 

“Yup, let’s pay,” 

She stops you. 

“AHSUSH!! WAIT A SECOND!!” then she turns to one of the staff there and nods. Then, out of nowhere, they bring out a chocolate cupcake with a single lit candle and set it in front of you. A few of the staff sing Happy Birthday, along with Sana who is screaming the song as though she wants the whole world to know that you were born today. You smile in embarrassment as she finishes the song. 

You lean forward and blow out the candle without making a proper wish. People clap and you smile at them. From your side you hear clapping too, and when you look up, both Taehyung and Hoseok are clapping. You offer a weak smile at the both of them but you can’t help yourself. 

You look to Park Jimin and meet his eyes for the first time. 

His expression is difficult to decipher. He is not smiling, nor does he smile when you look at him. He looks at you as though you are a ghost. 

You look away and smile at Sana. You do not want to ruin your birthday. 

“Thank you,” you grin at her. She nods proudly and motions for you to eat, though she too looks at Park Jimin from the corner of her eyes, and has to resist a glare. 

***

You cannot believe your luck. 

What were the odds that you would get paired up with him for a project? 

Seemingly, very high. 

Taehyung smiles at you as he approaches you after your class and bows quickly. 

“Hi! Even though we’ve been in the same class for the last four months, we’ve never talked. It’s nice to meet you! I’m Kim Taehyung,” 

You look at him warily. Why is he so nice? 

He had a reputation for being a heartbreaker… 

Nonetheless, you smile up at him awkwardly and reciprocate a lower bow. 

“Nice to meet you too. I’m (Last Name) (Name),” 

He grins. 

“I know,” 

You are tempted to ask how he knows you, but you keep your mouth shut and instead try a smile. 

“You’re a first year, aren’t you?” he makes small conversation as you start walking. You nod. 

“And you’re a second?” 

He smiles. 

“So when do you want to do this project?” you ask him, now cutting directly to the chase. He pauses to think before a small rectangular smile graces his handsome face. 

“Does this weekend work for you?” he asks and you nod. There is a lot of other work you have to do, but you would prefer to finish the project and to get away from Taehyung as soon as possible. You don’t want to risk anything with him or his best friend. His smile widens. 

“Cool. I’ll text you the address, yeah?” he asks, holding out his phone and you belatedly realize that he wants your number. You take the phone and input your digits before handing it back to him. He grins and quickly raises his phone to capture a picture of your stunned face before you can even process. 

“No!! Why did you-?! Taehyung, delete it!!” you whine, reaching forward as he stretches his hand up high. 

Curse your height. 

“I needed a contact picture!” he laughs. You groan and frown up at him. A quiet ding! sounds in your pocket and Taehyung smiles. 

“See ya Saturday, (Name)!” he tips his head and then turns around to leave as though he is the most carefree person on the planet. You are not convinced. He still has his reputation and you will not put it past him to live up to it. When you do check your phone, you can only sigh when you read ‘TAEHYUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG’ 

“Where are you going at this hour?” Sana asks from where she is sprawled across her bed. You slide your laptop into your satchel and swing it over your left shoulder. 

“I have a project for Photography so I’m meeting my partner to work on it,” you answer as you slip a pair of boots on and open the door. 

“Ah, I thought you were going on a date,” she giggles. You quickly look down to the beige sweater, black leggings and boots that make up your outfit, before quickly touching your loose hair. 

“Why? Does it look like I tried too hard?!” you ask, panicking just a little. She smiles with confusion. 

“No? I just meant you looked cute,” 

You sighed with relief. 

“Good. My partner is Kim Taehyung and I do not need him to think that I’m into him,” you say, shutting your eyes with slight frustration. Sana snorts with amusement. 

“Kim Taehyung?” she grins. “Oh, good luck with that, babe,” 

“Thanks,” you respond with a playful roll of your eyes and bid her goodbye before shutting the door behind you. As you walked out of your dorm building, you pulled up the address Taehyung had sent you yesterday. You had assumed that he would have invited you to his dorm or something similar, but from the minimal knowledge you had about your college, it didn’t seem like this address was on campus. Perhaps some cafe or library where you two could work without disturbance? You shrugged it off and started the walk, seeing that it took about 15 minutes and mentally prepared yourself for Kim Taehyung’s personality. 

After around 20 minutes of walking, you are shocked to find yourself face to face with an apartment building. It looks decent, not too dilapidated nor too lavish. It seems cozy and has a warm feeling to it that you can’t quite explain. Nonetheless, you are wary and do not want to enter the wrong place so you shoot Taehyung a quick text. 

(Name): am I at the right place??

You start pacing as you await an answer, too nervous to go to the door. After a few minutes, you get too impatient and call him instead. Three rings pass and then: 

“Ah (Name)? Sorry, I didn’t see your text!! Wait, imma open the door and if you see me, you’re in the right place!!”

You heard some muffled shouting and shuffling before the door was wrenched open and there stood a beaming Kim Taehyung. You disconnected the call and couldn’t help the small smile when he started excessively waving at you. You walked up the stairs and followed him as he began speaking. 

“Did you get here okay?” 

“Mhm,” you nod. “Thanks for asking. Is this your apartment?” 

“Eh sorta,” he grins. “I have a friend, Seokjin, who’s in his final year. This is technically his apartment. But me and a couple other guys live here too. We all pitch in for costs and rent and stuff,”

“Ohhh,” you acknowledge. “Makes sense,” 

“Yeah,” he smiles. “It’s real fun. Instead of one roommate, I have six,” 

He leads you to a door, opens it, and you are hit with an influx of shouting. A pile of shoes spills out of a closet and the smell of noodles wafts through the air. Despite the clear lack of cleanliness, you grin as you hear the boyish voices around the apartment. It must be nice, living together like this. Taehyung notices your grin and smiles to himself. 

“They’re all really nice, don’t worry,” he eases and you smile at him. 

“I’m not worried at all,” 

“Good,” he grabs your hand and tugs you forward. 

“Taehyung? Is that you?” a voice calls and from the kitchen emerges the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life. He had to be some kind of movie star or model because he literally had the most aesthetically pleasing face ever. He catches your eyes and smiles kindly. 

“Oh hello,” he greets. 

“Hello,” you bow and you can’t help but smile back at him. He just emits friendliness. 

“(Name), this is Seokjin. This is his apartment,” 

“Sorry for intruding, Seokjin,” you smile apologetically and he waves you off with the spatula in his hand. It’s then that you notice the Kiss the Cook apron he’s wearing. Except he's crossed out the Cook and wrote Worldwide Handsome in black Sharpie. What a fitting nickname. 

“It’s nothing at all. You wanna stay for dinner?” he asks and you’re tempted to say yes just by smelling the food cooking in the kitchen. Taehyung answers for you.

“Most probably yes,” he interjects and you look at him with a raised eyebrow and try to protest. “Oh shush, kid,” he swats a hand by your face. 

“I’m a year younger than you!” you argue. 

“Younger,” Taehyung stresses and you groan. Seokjin grins at the two of you and turns to go back to his cooking. 

“Well, get to work kiddos,” 

Taehyung leads to you the living room where three men are stationed. The first two look familiar and you realize that you had seen them at the restaurant back when you first saw Taehyung. One of them is lazily draped across the sofa and has the same mint hair and cat-like eyes that you remember. The second is leaning against the couch and scrolling on his phone. He is the one with the bright smile, you recall. The third is the one you haven’t seen. He looks to be your age and he’s wearing very oversized black clothing. He sits on the floor in front of the TV with a remote control in his class. 

“That’s Yoongi hyung, Hoseok hyung, and Jeongguk who’s in your year,” Taehyung points to each of them respectively. Yoongi looks up at you and nods with a small smile, which you reciprocate. Hoseok catches your eyes and grins. 

“Ah! Birthday girl?” he points and you groan with a playful smile. 

“Oh you remember that? That’s embarrassing,” 

He laughs, a sound you decide you like a lot and you smile cheekily. The last one, Jeongguk, looks up at you and smiles, and you suddenly think of a bunny. 

“Oh? You’re in my year? Cool,” he grins and you smile back. 

“Overwatch?” you ask, pointing to the screen and his smile widens. 

“Yeah,” he nods. “You play?” 

You shake your head no. “I have no clue how to,” 

“Well, Jeongguk can teach you the next time you come over,” Taehyung says, now pulling you in the direction of his room. You raise a brow. 

“Bold of you to assume there’ll be a next time,” 

Hoseok and Jeongguk laugh, the latter inputting a playful “She got you, hyung!”

Taehyung grins at you. 

“You won’t be able to stay away, sweetheart,” 

You scoff with a smile, slightly amazed that you’re already this comfortable with these guys. 

“Ah, which one of you idiots touched my computer?!” an irritated voice yells from down the hall. A door is wrenched open and out storms another man who is like eight feet tall. Okay, not really, but he is very tall. Much taller than you. 

“It was Jin hyung,” Jeongguk comments, not taking his eyes off of the screen. The man’s shoulders relax. 

“Damn, I can’t even yell at him. Hyung, please don’t touch my computer!” 

“YAH!! IT WASN’T ME THAT BRAT IS SETTING ME UP!!” you hear Seokjin yell angrily from the kitchen and when you catch Jeongguk’s grin, you can’t help but laugh. Namjoon glares at Jeongguk, who flashes such cute puppy eyes, you almost melt yourself. Namjoon groans. 

“Okay fine I’m letting you off this time,” he warns. “But next time…” he lets his threat hang in midair, but even Jeongguk doesn’t seem to take it seriously. The tall man looks to you then and smiles. His dimples, you notice, are extremely cute. 

“Sorry you had to hear all of that,” he apologizes. “I’m Namjoon,” 

You grin at him. “No worries. It was quite entertaining. I’m (Name),” 

“Well if you’re gonna come around here often, you’ll get used to it,” Namjoon comments cheekily and you laugh. 

“C’mon (Name). We should probably start working,” Taehyung smiles and you wave goodbye to the other boys as Taehyung leads you to his room. When you enter, you are a bit surprised by what you see. You never expected Kim Taehyung to be so...artistic. 

Paintings litter on one half of the room, assumably Taehyung’s side. A saxophone rests against the wall and polaroids are stuck to the walls. You can’t help but smile. The other half of the room is a bit different. A laptop and multiple notebooks are scattered across the bed and there is a whole shelf of novels that you are dying to explore. 

“Do you share a room with one of them?” you ask Taehyung, who nods. 

“Namjoon hyung,” 

You smile as you study the room and realize that these boys are probably so different from each other.  

Taehyung tells you to take a seat and the two of you began to work. 

You notice that Kim Taehyung is very easy to talk to. His reputation, it isn’t as bad as people say. He doesn’t seem like a heartbreaker and in fact, comes off as someone who values love a lot. Especially after the conversation you have with him. 

“So…” he comments randomly as he pulls up images. “You interested in someone?” 

You can’t help but be playful. “Why? Already like me?” 

“Maybe~” he grins. 

“But to answer your question, nope!” you chirp. “At least not yet. I mean I just ended a relationship before the year started,” 

“Ah,” Taehyung acknowledges. “I just finished a relationship two weeks ago,” 

“Oh?” you ask and you are about to recoil because you suddenly see the “fuckboy” Taehyung everyone talks about. You remember the rumors about how Kim Taehyung was dumping yet another girl. You remember pitying the girl he had been with and pitying all of the girls he had been with before vowing that you would never show remorse for a man like that. But he stops your thoughts with his next words. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t right for me,” he sighs, looking down and you think he looks genuinely upset. “I wish I could just fall in love already,” 

You blink. “What do you mean? If you didn’t love her, why date her?” 

“Well,” he sighs. “It’s like this. Why did you date your ex if you clearly could let him or her go?” he asks, looking up at you. You stop to think but he answers for you. “Because you didn’t really love them. Maybe you thought that you did, but if you really did, you wouldn’t be able to leave them,” 

His words are intelligent and accurate and you know it. 

“The same happens to me. I think I get interested in girls easily. Maybe because I admire people too much or I find myself liking their personalities. And no, it’s not because I just want to sleep with them like everyone says. I genuinely care for the girls I sleep with because I did genuinely think I loved them,” he admits and you listen attentively because as much as you don’t want to believe it, Kim Taehyung is telling the whole truth. “So yeah, maybe people think that I’m some kind of fuckboy and I sleep around too much. But I have never once dated a girl with the intention of getting in her pants. I’ve always dated a girl because I loved her but I break up with them because I realize that I was wrong,” 

You want to protest against everything he has revealed but it all makes so much sense and it is all too relatable. Why did you break up with Youngjae if you really loved him? And if you really did love him, you wouldn’t let distance or separate interests be a reason for breaking up with him. If anything, you’d fight to stay with him. Right? 

So you smile up at Kim Taehyung and say: “I understand,” 

It doesn’t seem likely, but after that conversation, it is so much more easier to talk to Taehyung. As you both organize the snapshots across the floor, you animatedly recall something funny that happened in high school and he eagerly recounts an embarrassing experience from a middle school play. You laugh and giggle and you wonder how someone so sweet can have such a bad reputation. You are happy to have made a friend. A few hours later, Seokjin’s voice calls for both of you to come for dinner. It is then that you realize it is nearing 9:00. You have stayed very late, but you don’t really want to leave. If Taehyung is as nice as this, you are curious to get to know the other boys. So when he asks if you want to stay for dinner, you shyly agree. When you walk to the table, you take a seat in between Taehyung and Jeongguk and look to Seokjin. 

“I’m really sorry again for intruding, Seokjin,” you say sheepishly to the eldest. He clicks his tongue. 

“Oh, stop apologizing and eat, kid,” his casual tone makes you grin and do as he says. Dinner is filled with bickering and laughs, and it evokes a fuzzy feeling in your chest. So, this is what it’s like to be best friends? Best friends that are close like family. The feeling stays as Seokjin starts berating Namjoon for breaking his cup and as Jeongguk accidentally splashes chili paste on Hoseok’s shirt. You are so happy. Seokjin packs up some leftovers as Jeongguk whines for dessert. He wants ice-cream, and as soon as he says it, you start craving it, too. It doesn’t take much for the male with the bunny smile to convince you, and then you join in on the pestering of the eldest. He gives in eventually, despite his protests, but ends up piling the most scoops into his bowl, ignoring Jeongguk’s cheeky smirk. 

“What time do you have to leave, (Name)?” Yoongi asks as he seats himself on the couch, watching you shove a spoonful of ice-cream into your mouth with a small smile. 

“Well, I technically should have left way earlier,” you admit and the mint-haired male chuckles. 

“Wanna stay for a bit longer? We normally watch movies on Saturday night no matter how stupid they are,” Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to really enjoy spending time around new people, so you are very flattered at his words and agree to watch with them. 

“I probably won’t stay for the whole movie though,” 

“Just stay for a bit then,” the second-eldest mutters, cuddling into a blanket and Hoseok laughs from his spot on the floor. 

“Wow, Yoongi hyung must really like you, (Name). He’s never this nice,” 

Yoongi shoots him a withering glare. “Well she’s definitely less annoying than you are,” 

Seokjin, Jeongguk, and Taehyung laugh at his statement and you can vaguely hear Namjoon complaining about the tiny bit of ice-cream you all had left for him.

Soon enough, you all are settled and Up is playing on the screen. Jeongguk has volunteered to share his ice-cream with Namjoon, which is funny because he seems like he doesn’t share very often. You can’t help but smile as you hear Taehyung sniffle when Ellie dies and Yoongi yells an exasperated: “You cry at this scene every time! We literally just watched this movie last month!”

You cannot wait to tell Sana how happy these boys make you feel. 

About half way through the movie, when your bowls are all cleaned and you are sleepily leaning against Taehyung’s shoulder, you hear the sound of the front door open. 

“Finally,” Seokjin complains. “It took you long enough. Why do you even live here? You might as well live in the studio, you punk!!” 

A tinkling laugh rings from the hallway and you hear the shoe closet close. 

“Ah, you know I wouldn’t be able to live without you guys~” a voice sings, and you can hear the smile in it. It is very familiar and you know it and your heart speeds up and you want to leave. Footsteps approach the living room and you hold your breath. 

“We wouldn’t miss you,” Yoongi comments, eyes still trained on the movie. The person laughs again. 

“Love you too, Yoongi hyung,” 

And in walks the one reason everything will be ruined. In walks Park Jimin, in all his smiling glory. Your chest constricts and you have to remind yourself who this is. He is grinning though you can see the fatigue in his body. He is wearing a black T-shirt that is slightly damp from sweat and his black hair is messy across his forehead. His eyes shine with mischief and the feeling of nostalgia rises in your chest until it suffocates you. His kind brown eyes-like chocolate they are-scan the scene in front of him with indescribable softness. He is looking at his entire world. Until he stops at you. You wish you could disappear when you see that expression change. The light leaves his eyes and his pretty smile drops. His lips part and his shoulders sag and you feel almost ashamed without a reason. 

“You missed hanging out with (Name), Jiminie,” Taehyung says innocently and you have to stop the gasp. Jiminie. Jiminie was your nickname for him.

“(Name), this is the last member of our little family, Jimin. Jimin, this is (Name),” 

You can’t bring yourself to speak and neither, it seems, can he. He looks away from your misting eyes, and you have to swallow the growing lump in your throat. (Name), you idiot. Why are you so upset?

“It’s nice to meet you, Jimin,” you mumble and his head shoots up to look into your eyes and you feel exposed and fake and disgusting. But why? You didn’t throw away this friendship. He did.

You don’t wait for his answer and instead throw the blanket off of your knees before standing up quickly. Jeongguk, who had been sitting at your feet, raises a brow. 

“Where are you going, (Name)?” 

You laugh awkwardly, your voice becoming thick with unshed tears. 

“Sorry, Jeongguk. It’s really late and my roommate is pretty worried. Plus, I said I’d stay for dinner and now the movie’s practically done. I should head back home,” you make up a lame excuse and want to kick yourself for throwing away your time with these boys. “Thank you guys for having me,” 

“You can stop by anytime,” Seokjin says gently, standing up and helping you drown out Taehyung’s whining for you to stay. “I mean it, kid,” 

Though his smile drops a little when he sees the liquid pooling in your eyes. “Hey, are you--?” 

“I’ll try to stop by whenever I can,” you smile, trying to mask every single stupid thought in your head. “Thank you, Seokjin,”

You try to get him to drop the topic when you utter those words, hoping it gets through to him. He studies your face, his eyes worried, but seems to get it and nods. 

“Of course,” 

“Bye guys,” you say, and then turn to the door, not bothering to listen to their farewells. You pass by Jimin, but don’t meet his eyes. You don’t have the courage. 

You can’t help but cry to Sana when you open the door of your dorm room. You can’t relay any of the positive things that had occupied your evening but instead you spill everything about the one negative thing. Sana tries to calm you but she can now see how one measly friendship has affected your whole life. But she poses two questions that are important and make you think: “Do you really think that your friendship with Jimin should affect how you are with the other boys? Is it really worth it?”

And she is right, it is not worth it. You will not let go of six sweet people for one person who didn’t keep an unspoken promise. And with that vow to yourself, you drift off to sleep, your dreams filled with cat-like eyes, bunny smiles, and dimples. 

You are not surprised when Kim Taehyung takes a seat next to you after class on Monday, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“What happened on Saturday, (Name)?” he asks and you don’t really know how to respond. 

“What do you mean?” you chuckle awkwardly. “I told you I had to leave,” 

“Bullshit,” he dismisses and you sigh. “You were upset. What is it about Jimin that makes you upset?” You look at him with wide eyes and he breathes out. “I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t notice…” 

You gulp at the slightly upset expression on his face. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have brought you home without telling you about the guys. I just assumed that there wouldn’t be any problems and I-” 

It takes you a minute to realize that he is blaming himself and you hurry to stop him. 

“No no, Taehyung! It’s not your fault or anybody else’s fault, okay?” He doesn’t look very convinced, but then in the softest voice he can muster, he puts a hand on your shoulder and asks “What is it, (Name)? What’s wrong?” 

And you trust him. You really do. “Let’s go get some coffee. I’ll tell you everything,”

So you spend about two hours sitting across from Taehyung as he listens intently. He takes small sips from his hot chocolate as you tell of the childish Park Jimin you had come to rely on. He watches you trace indistinguishable patterns on the cup of your caramel macchiato as you recount the heartbreak you had felt when Park Jimin disappeared from your life altogether. At the end of your story, you sit in front of him, feeling miserable and wondering why you ranted about Park Jimin to his best friend. You’re half expecting Taehyung to yell at you and tell you that he never wants you near him or the boys again. But, as usual, Kim Taehyung is full of surprises. 

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, (Name),” Taehyung says sympathetically. “Jimin can really be an idiot sometimes,” 

You scoff out a laugh. “Tell me about it,” 

“And what he did was horrible,” Taehyung continues. “But I promise you from the bottom of my heart that Jimin is not a bad person. From what you told me, I think he genuinely cared about you,” 

“Then why did he just cut me off like that?” you question. 

“Listen, I’m not gonna defend what he did. It was stupid and immature. But I think most teenagers are at that age. I mean, the fact that he continued to be your best friend throughout middle school just shows that he cared about you. And maybe once he went to high school, he just found new friends. Maybe he didn’t mean to cut you off but it was just hard to reconnect with you. And if he did do it purposefully, it was probably because of peer pressure. At that age, a guy and a girl can’t be just friends. It always means there’s something more. Maybe he was trying to avoid that. And I know that doesn’t give him an excuse and that doesn’t make it right. I’m just trying to give you some closure and help you figure out why it happened. I mean I’m sure there's been a time where you’ve been influenced by those around you,” You think back to seventh grade and nod hesitantly. Taehyung smiles sadly. 

“I’m not telling you to forgive him. Heck, I’m not even telling you to forget about it. But I don’t want this thing to affect you like this. I don’t want you to come over and be reminded of what happened. And I don’t want to see you upset like that everytime you see his face. Whether you like it or not, you’re with us now. Don’t let one friendship define how the rest of your friendships will be,” he finishes and you don’t even realize that you’re tearing up until you are hugging him with everything in your being. “And who knows, maybe if you show that what happened doesn’t bother you, that idiot Park Jimin might get some sense knocked into him and realize what kind of a friend he missed out on,”  

You manage a smile and nod, knowing that Kim Taehyung is right. Both he and the other boys are worth it. 

The following weekend seems almost like deja vu. Sana once again is sprawled across her bed watching you carefully as you tug on a knitted sweater over your black jeans. This time, there is no need for a bag so you just tuck your wallet and phone into your back pockets as you smooth down your hair. 

"And where are you going, missy?" Sana asks as she pulls up the latest show on Netflix that she had been invested in. 

"I'm going to hang out with Taehyung and the other guys at their house," you reply and catch her brow raise. 

"I knew you'd fall for Taehyung eventually," she sighs and you laugh. 

"I haven't," you grin. "Don't worry. You know I would never leave you," 

"You'd better not," she laughs as you tug on your boots and walk to the door. "Text me if you decide to come home or not!” 

You feel confident and not too nervous and you walk to Seokjin’s apartment. In fact, you are sort of excited. You are excited to hang out with the boys and you are excited to look into Park Jimin’s eyes and show him that you are not hurt by him. You want to get past this. You don’t have the intention to make him feel guilty about what he did. How can you blame someone for finding new friends? It is a natural process. And sure it hurt a lot, but no matter what, you still care about Jimin and you can’t bring yourself to hate him just because he isn’t your best friend anymore. With those thoughts in mind, when you reach Seokjin’s apartment, you don’t hesitate to knock on the door. From inside you hear the man yell: “(NAME)’S HERE GET THE DOOR!! JEONGGUK-AH OPEN THE DOOR!!”

You can’t help but grin at the eldest’s words, and smile wider when you come face to face with Jeongguk’s beaming face. 

“You made it!” he smiles, and opens the door wider for you to enter. You nod. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t stay away,” you reply and his bunny-like grin turns into a smirk. 

“You like me that much, huh?” You blanch at his statement before giggling. 

“Wow, you sound exactly like Taehyung,” 

He laughs. “Yeah, but I’m way hotter,” 

You nod with a serious expression. “Way hotter,” 

The two of you walk into the living room where Hoseok and Namjoon greet you. It is easy for you to relax with them. You plop on the couch and begin to complain to them about the annoying boy who sits next to you in Journalism and smile when Seokjin starts cursing him out. 

“Hey, where’s Yoongi?” you ask, missing the mint-haired man’s occasional snide remarks.

“Probably producing some shit at the studio,” Seokjin replies and tosses you his phone. “Call him,” 

You grin and do as told, once Namjoon told you that Seokjin’s password was 1234. You scroll for Yoongi’s contact and call him, putting him on speaker. 

“Hyung, you know I’ll be home soon,” his voice says from the other end. 

“I’m not your hyung~” you grin. 

“Oh, hey (Name),” 

“Hey Yoongi,” 

“Are you at the house right now?” 

“Yeah, I kinda missed you so I wanted to see what you were up to,” 

“Is this just a way to get me to stop my work?” 

“I don’t know, is it working?” 

“.....You sound exactly like Jeongguk when he calls to get me home,” 

The male mentioned winks at you and you snigger. “Are you coming or what, hyung?” Jeongguk yells into the phone and Yoongi sighs. 

“Fine, I’ll be there soon,”

The line goes dead before you can get another word in and you laugh. 

“You know, he acts like he hates us but I’m 100 percent sure he loves spending time with us,” Taehyung says and the others easily agree. The front door then opens and you hold your breath. It’s Jimin. 

Except instead of the smiling male, a pretty girl walks in. She is most definitely older than you, with her straight brown hair and bangs covering her forehead. 

“Hey guys,” she greets, tucking her keys into her purse. 

“Hey noona,” Jeongguk replies, his eyes glued to Overwatch just like the last time you visited. 

“Is that Eunji?” Seokjin asks and she laughs. 

“Yes! Hi, Seokjin!!” 

He yells back a greeting and she looks at you and smiles. 

“Hi, I’m Jung Eunji, nice to meet you,” she introduces politely and you reciprocate. 

“I’m (Last Name) (Name). It’s nice to meet you too,” you smile. 

“She’s in my year,” Jeongguk comments and Eunji nods. 

“Cool, I’m in Yoongi’s year,” at your acknowledgment she smiles once again. “I’ll be right back,” 

As soon as she leaves, you turn to Taehyung, who looks a bit irritated. “Is that Yoongi’s girlfriend?” you ask, and Taehyung laughs as the front door opens. This time, it really is Jimin. He looks different from last week. His eyes are sunken in and he looks like he will pass out any time soon. But he is still handsome, and manages a small smile. 

“Jiminie? Is that you?” Eunji calls from down the hall before she approaches him. And there is the use of your old nickname once again. “Hey baby,” she whispers as she walks up to him and places a hand on his cheek. 

“Hey noona,” he mumbles, closing his eyes at her touch. 

“Nope,” Taehyung mutters from your left in response to your previous question. “She’s Jimin’s girlfriend,” 

And when you look to the scene in front of you, watching Eunji press her lips to Jimin’s gently, you feel an overwhelming disappointment rise up in your chest. It appears out of nowhere, rising and rising until it settles as a hard lump in the back of your throat. The feeling is faintly familiar, lingering in the crevices of your subconscious, a memory that does not want to be revisited. 

“Oh,” you mutter. It is all you can manage and Taehyung doesn’t say anything about your tone. If he notices, he doesn’t choose to comment on it. 

“Jeez, babe,” Eunji mumbles, dragging her thumb across the bags under Jimin’s eyes. “How long have you been working yourself?” 

Jimin doesn’t reply as his eyes settle on you. You feel your hands start to sweat, but remember the pep talk you had given yourself earlier. You give him a small, unsure smile and he continues to look at you. Eunji doesn’t seem to be expecting a reply either, because she wraps her arm around Jimin’s waist and starts walking him towards his room. 

“C’mon, you should at least take a nap,” you hear her voice fade as she shuts the bedroom door. Your shoulders sag unknowingly. You hear Taehyung scoff as Seokjin walks into the living room with food. 

“Oh Kim Taehyung, you big baby,” he rolls his eyes, munching on some Doritos. “Stop it now,” 

“Stop what?” you ask, looking between the two. Taehyung’s brows are furrowed and he sticks his lips out into a pout. 

“I can’t help it. I don’t like her,” he whines. Hoseok rolls his eyes as he watches Jeongguk play, the black-haired male also listening in on the conversation. 

“She’s a sweetheart,” Hoseok sighs as you hear the front door open once again. Yoongi walks in, looking tired as hell. He throws his bag in the corner and plops next to Namjoon, who is intently reading, while running his hand through his mint-green hair. 

“She seems pretty nice,” you agree, looking at the male next to you. 

“Yeah, I know,” Taehyung mutters dejectedly. “I just--...you really don’t see how they don’t go together?” 

“You’re the only one who really has a problem with it,” Seokjin shrugs. “Besides, Jimin’s an adult. He can take care of himself,” 

“I guess,” Taehyung sighs. “They’re just….I don’t know…” 

“How long have they been dating?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light. 

“Like six months?” Yoongi answers. “They started dating around when school started,” 

“Yeah, and they haven’t really had any problems yet. I don’t see why you’re so skeptical of her, Tae,” Namjoon inputs. 

“The thing that bothers me is that Jimin always tells me who he’s interested in. And he’s the type of person to take his time falling for someone. He wants time to really know them before he asks them out and stuff. But he never mentioned that he was interested in Eunji,” Taehyung tries reasoning. Jeongguk seems to understand. 

“It seemed kinda impulsive, right? To date her?” the ravenette asks and Taehyung eagerly nods. 

“That’s exactly right!” 

Yoongi ponders this. “Yeah I can see where that’s coming from. But we don’t really have any choice. He’s obviously still into the idea of dating her so we might as well live with it,” 

That night as you head home after finishing Iron Man 2 with the boys (it had been Jeongguk’s turn to pick), you thought back to what went on. Jimin had never joined you all and at first you had feared it was because you were there, but Eunji informed you all that the man was just too tired and had been overworking himself throughout the last week. She then joined you and for some reason, your mind kept looking for things to dislike about her. Maybe her voice or her hairstyle. You couldn’t find one flaw and you instead you find yourself wanting to talk with her and laugh with her. She seems like a great girl, and you are thankful that your best friend has someone like her, even if he is not your best friend anymore. 

Months pass by as the last flurries of snow fall to the ground and the first buds of the spring season began to grow from their soil. You continue to hang out with the boys, getting closer and closer to them until you’ve adopted one of Jeongguk’s sweaters as your own and Seokjin has given you your own mug for whatever you want to drink. You don’t see much of Jimin around the house, since he does practically live at the studio. Taehyung tells you that he has a very important dance competition coming up at the end of the year, so he wants to work hard. You are a bit surprised to hear that it is for hip hop. The Jimin you knew used to do contemporary dance. 

But Jimin working hard does not mean you don’t see him. The first time where all of you had hung out, it had definitely felt awkward. Neither of you could start a conversation with one another. But you decide to be brave and just smile at him, gradually moving to ask how his day was, even as you feel Taehyung’s proud smile on you. The black-haired male is surprised, you can see, but he manages to smile back at you and be polite. The smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

This time around, Sana is dressing up with you. “Too much?” she asks, pulling a sparkling red dress out of the closet. You laugh. 

“Yeah, too much. It’s a party at a house, Sana. People will literally show up in jeans,” you grin as you slip on a ruffled long-sleeved dress. 

“True,” she shrugs and pulls out a much more simpler skirt and top to which you flash a thumbs up. After getting dressed, you and Sana go to the house where the party is taking place, Ha Sungwoon’s house, you think. The boys had all told you to come. The house is filled with people and music echoes out of the opened doors. This is your first official party and you can’t help but be a little nervous. Sana is surely the same, so you both cling to each other until you can find some familiar faces. You see quite a few people in your year and in your classes, but you are only, at most, acquaintances, and so you do not want to bother them. Sana finds a few girls she knows, Nayeon and Jeongyeon you think their names are, and tugs you to them. You try to make small talk with the girls, knowing fully well that they are sweet, but you feel out of place. So all while soothing Sana’s worried concerns, you slip away from the trio and begin searching for the boys. You first catch sight of Taehyung, who is sitting on a couch looking extremely bored as a girl tries to chat him up. You want to laugh at his expression, but take pity on the guy and saunter up to both of them before grabbing his arm. 

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you~” you bat your eyelashes up at the male, who’s unimpressed expression tinges with realization. The corners of his lips twitch upwards and his eyes flicker towards the confused female who had been flirting with him. 

“Ah sorry baby. Let’s get you a drink, hm?” he gets up and tugs you out of eyesight as fast as he can while you chuckle. He is laughing happily when he turns to face you. “You are a savior sent by heaven, (Name). Thank you,” 

“Hey no need to thank me. Can’t have my best friend not getting that perfect love he’s always talking about,” you laugh but Taehyung stares at you, his eyes softening and a gentle smile overtaking his handsome face. “What?” you giggle. 

“You called me your best friend,” 

You pause. You did, didn’t you? You refused to have a real best friend after what happened and how much it affected you, but there, you went and said it. You said it to Kim Taehyung and you feel great about it. 

“Yeah, I guess I did. Love you, Tae Tae,” you say, and he smiles so wide it basically blinds you. Your heart feels like it’s mending. It feels nice. Taehyung is glomping you in the next second, very happy. So much that you can feel his smile radiating off of him. 

“Ok, let’s actually get drinks,” Taehyung grins and tugs you off into the crowd. A bit later, you find a comfortable seat with your drink, slightly away from the main crowd but close enough to ensure you don’t look awkward, since Taehyung said he was going to go find Namjoon. You watch Seokjin loudly playing a very uncoordinated version of Beer Pong as the people around him cheer him on, and you can’t help but laugh. Soon enough, Jeongguk joins you and helps you laugh at the eldest as the two of you take slow sips of your drinks. You began to chat with him, finding comfort and familiarity in the male’s presence. In the midst, he gets up and gets you a refill and as you down the drink you start to feel just a bit tipsy, but nothing too dangerous. After your third drink...or was it fourth? Well anyway, after drinks, you and Jeongguk are stumbling around like hyperactive third graders. The two of you end up plopping down on stools and Jeongguk puts his head on the counter, grinning sleepily. 

“Are you drunk, Gukkie~?” you tease, unaware that you are just as drunk. 

“Nah,” he slurs. “I’m a man. Men don’t get drunk,” 

“You’re still a babyyy~~~” you tease, ruffling his wavy hair and he frowns. 

“You’re my age, (Name),” he retorts as his eyes start shutting. 

“Are you sleepy?” you suddenly whisper, leaning close to him with wide eyes. 

“Nah,” he mutters. “I’m a man. Men don’t get sleepy,” 

You giggle, but when you look back, Jeongguk is fast asleep. You sigh and smile at the male, not having it in you to leave him alone. You start taking slower sips from your drink and scroll through Instagram to kill time. In your drunk state, you manage to take shaky videos of Jeongguk mumbling nonsense in his sleep, knowing that it would serve for great blackmail material in the near future. You’re about to text Taehyung to tell him that you want you leave when someone plops in the seat next to you. You blink in surprise at Park Jimin’s figure. He turns to you and gives you an almost smile.  

“Jeonggukie giving you trouble?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink. You shake your head. 

“Nah. He’s been asleep for a while. I didn’t really want to leave him alone,” you answer, feeling slightly nervous. Though, the alcohol in your system is not filtering many of your words. “I was just gonna text TaeTae and tell him that I was way too bored,” 

Jimin chuckled. “What? This party isn’t fun enough for you?” 

“Hell no. What’s so fun about a bunch of sweaty drunk people making out with each other?” You take a big gulp of your drink as Jimin laughs. “Where’s Eunji?” 

Jimin’s chocolate orbs roam around the room. “Not sure. I think she was with her friends the last I checked,” 

You make a sound of acknowledgment before the conversation dies down and an awkward silence ensues. You are contemplating getting up and making a beeline for Taehyung, who is standing on a table and loudly singing Fiction by Beast, but someone decides to break the silence.  

“Oh my god, (Last Name) (Name), is that you??” a feminine voice rings out. You look up to see a familiar face and smile. 

“Somin!” you greet excitedly, looking at the girl in front of you. “How have you been??” 

She grins. She hasn’t changed much since high school except that she has dyed her hair blonde.

“I’ve been good!! I had no idea that we went to the same college!!” 

“Me neither! Small world, huh?” you laugh. She nods. 

“So what’s new?” she asks. “Are you still dating Youngjae?” 

She is being polite, but you still at the bitter subject. She sees your expression and hesitates. 

“It...was Youngjae, right? You dated him when we were seniors?” 

You chuckle awkwardly. 

“Yeah…” you rub your palms together. “Yeah, we dated but we broke up before summer ended,” 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” she looks genuinely apologetic and you laugh, waving a hand dismissively. 

“It’s fine,” 

Her eyes move to Jimin and she smiles. 

“Oh, hello...Jimin right? You were in the grade above us?” 

Jimin is very quiet, looking at you with an unreadable expression but he soon smiles at her politely. 

“Yes I was,”

She smiles at him and then turns to you. 

“Well it was nice seeing you! We should catch up later!!” 

You nod eagerly and wave goodbye to her. After she leaves, you have no idea how to start up a conversation with Jimin. He is looking off into the distance in deep thought. You take another gulp of your drink. 

“(Name), I feel hella drunk…” Jeongguk groans from your side. You laugh loudly. 

“You are drunk, Gukkie~” 

“So are you,” he mumbles. 

“You’re drunkerer than I am,” you grin proudly and Jimin snorts from your other side. 

“Not a real word, (Name),” 

“Yes it is!!” you pout at him, feeling more talkative than you had in a while. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yup, any word that I make is real!!” you giggle and Jimin chuckles with a shake of his head. 

“(NAME) I DARE YOU TO LICK YOUR ELBOW!!” Jeongguk randomly yells, shaking both of your shoulders back and forth. 

“You can’t--” Jimin starts but pauses when he sees you rolling up your sleeve. “(Name), you can’t be serious...” 

And then you proceed to put every fiber of your being into licking your elbow. You obviously are failing, and Jimin can’t help but laugh. Neither can Jeongguk. 

“You try it then!” you yell with an indignant pout before downing the rest of your drink. The bunny-like male smirks confidently. 

“Fine, sweetheart. But I’m the fucking Golden Maknae!” he yells as he pulls off his jacket and hands it to you. He attempts licking his elbow and Jimin is so entertained by the struggle of the self-assured male. 

“Golden Maknae??” you ask in the most confused voice ever. Then you break out into a fit of raucous laughter. “That’s the stupidest nickname I’ve ever heard!!” 

Jeongguk stops licking air and looks at you with the most appalled expression and Jimin loses all sense of self-composure as he starts laughing. 

“You little-!” he starts and then he starts wrestling with you as you shriek and giggle. “C’mon hyung, help me get her!!” 

Jimin bites his lip and then eventually helps the male hold you steady. Jeongguk reels his middle finger back and lets it go, creating a loud thwap! as it hits the skin of your forehead. Jimin has tears in his eyes as he laughs, and despite your complaints of pain, you are giggling too. 

It is fine. It is all fine. It is good. And for once, it feels like everything is back to normal. You are so happy in this moment. But then you start thinking, and despite your giggles, a lump lodges itself in your throat. 

“Oh god, you both are so stupid,” Jimin chuckles gently. You lean back against Jeongguk’s shoulder, a pleasant buzz thrumming through your veins, and with a soft giggle you ask a question that ruins everything. 

“Do you even remember me, Jiminie?” 

Jimin’s chuckles die down and he looks you straight in the eyes, his lips parting just a bit. You are sure you look like a mess in your drunken state and you know your eyes are going to start watering soon. 

“What do you mean ‘remember me’?” Jeongguk mumbles cluelessly from behind you but you don’t answer him. You are waiting for an answer. You don’t seem to be getting one though, since all Jimin does is look down at his lap, clear his throat, and take a sip of his drink. 

That doesn’t sit well with you at all. Maybe it is just the alcohol or maybe it is because you’ve been pretending that he didn’t affect you all this time, but whatever it is makes tears pool in your eyes. You feel pathetic and you don’t want to cry over this but your emotions are all over the place. So all you can manage to do is stand up shakily and get away from there. You can hear Jeongguk’s yells from behind you, but you don’t care. All that is running through your mind is that Park Jimin cannot see you cry. You are too confident and it will most definitely bruise your pride. 

Taehyung is now in the middle of single Sherlock by SHINee but as soon as he catches sight of your face, he stops. He quickly hands the microphone to Seokjin, who is looking at you with concern, and gets down from the table to stand in front of you. 

“What’s wrong, (Nickname)?” he asked frantically, cupping your cheeks in his palms. 

“Can we please go home, TaeTae? I don’t want to be here anymore,” you mumble and Taehyung immediately nods. He turns to tell Hoseok and Seokjin, who both nod quietly before he gently takes your hand and pulls you to the door. He doesn’t say anything at all, which you are extremely grateful for, and he walks next to you in silence. The air is cold and you feel exposed and vulnerable. You are aware that Taehyung is quietly waiting for you to explain yourself and in that moment, you get so irritated. 

“UGH THAT JERK!!” you suddenly yell out into the winter air. Taehyung takes a step back in shock. 

“Who?” he questions. 

“FUCKING PARK JIMIN!” 

Taehyung groans. “Oh what did that idiot do this time?” 

“Just…” you sigh. “Why does it seem like he tries so hard to avoid what happened in the past?” 

“What makes you think that?” Taehyung asks, linking his arm with yours as you both cross the street. 

“I mean it was fine. Me, Jeongguk, and Jimin were talking and having fun and we were all laughing and everything was fine! But then my stupid ass had to go say ‘do you even remember me’ and he didn’t respond. It just became so awkward all over again. I mean, is it so hard for him to just mention what happened? Because I feel like I’m the only one who stresses so much over him and he doesn’t give a fuck about me at all,” you rage and Taehyung listens quietly. 

“Well, why do you?” the male next to you asks and you blanch. 

“I--what?” 

“Why do you stress over him so much, anyway?” Taehyung clarifies. You open your mouth to respond as though it is the simplest thing in the world, but you find that you don’t exactly have an answer for his inquiry. Taehyung chuckles deeply. 

“(Nickname) don’t get offended by this but did you have a crush on Jimin back when you were friends?” 

You stop in your tracks to throw him the most shocked expression possible. 

“What?! Ew, no way! He was my best friend!!” 

“So, you never loved him?” he asks thoughtfully. 

“Well--I, of course I loved him, he was my best friend. Why the heck are you asking me that anyway?” you ask indignantly, feeling your cheeks get hot. Though, Taehyung only puts a hand on his chin. 

“Well, I was just thinking about it. Don’t get me wrong, I know losing a friend can be really tough, especially one you’ve had for so long and been so close with. But I feel like now you should sort of be over it. Or you shouldn’t be so affected by the fact that he isn’t close with you anymore. I feel like you had time to heal,” he explains. 

“But I--” you start to defend yourself but Taehyung raises a hand. 

“Let me finish, (Nickname),” he stops you and you purse your lips. “I know it will always sting. But you’ve made friends after Jimin and you’ve been able to live your life without him for years now. So why is it that just being around him brings you so much pain?” 

You try to think of an answer to his questions. 

“I just think that maybe you confused yourself and loved him this whole time,” the tall brunette finished. 

“Well then why did I fall for Youngjae?” you ask, trying to find holes around what you knew he was assuming. 

“What does Youngjae have to do with this? Of course it’s possible you fell for Youngjae. That doesn’t mean you didn’t ever fall for Jimin. You loved Youngjae obviously. But does that mean that you ever stopped loving Jimin?” 

You pause to look at him. Taehyung continues walking, a soft carefree smile on his face as he admires the winter scenery around him. Flurries of white snow that are descending from the sky settle in his fluffy hair. 

Was he right? Did you love Jimin this whole time? Was it possible that you were convincing yourself that you missed him only because he was your friend and not for any other reason? Were you so stupid to try to deny your own feelings? 

“Hm? Are you coming, (Name)?” Taehyung stops at the end of the sidewalk before an intersection, looking at you in confusion. “What’s wrong?” 

You are thinking about everything you’ve ever known. You think about everything you’ve done with him, every laugh, every game, every cry. You don’t think you can pinpoint any time where you’ve been in love with him. But you see your eighth grade self smiling up at him with adoration. And then you see your 15 year old self sneaking glances at him from across the library, watching as he hangs out with his friends. You see yourself giggling at the jokes he makes during his class president speech despite the fact that he has forgotten you long ago. You remember all the times you would think of him even after he went off to college. 

Taehyung is right. You’ve had so long to distance yourself from him and you’ve had years to teach yourself how to live without him. But strangely, you can’t let him go at all. And just the thought of him puts your heart at ease no matter how many bad memories he has linked to his name. 

You start walking towards Taehyung, who looks slightly confused, and grab his arm. In silence, the two of you walk down the street as you approach your dorm building. 

“Wanna come up?” you mumble to the male, eyeing the snow falling on the streets. Taehyung shakes his head with a small smile. 

“Nah, I should head back to the dorm before Jin hyung calls the police for a search party,” 

You grin before glomping the male into a hug. He is warm and cozy, almost like a sleeping bear in the cold winter.

“You were right,” you mutter to him. “I think I did love Jimin a long time ago. And I think I still do,” 

You pull away with a smile and wave to him, catching sight of the expression on his face, one that his mixed with pride and slight shock. When you get up to your dorm, finding it dark and empty, you breathe a sigh of relief. And for the first time in a very long time, you grab your computer and pull up some very old files. 

And you smile and laugh as you watch your younger self giggle and have fun, your heart fluttering every time you see familiar crescent shaped eyes. 

***

Bad luck seems to always follow you around. You groan loudly in the middle of the street, knowing that passerby are probably looking at you weirdly. 

“Well easy for them to judge,” you mutter. “They have umbrellas,” 

It is true that for the few people who are walking on the street, everyone is protected by an umbrella. And there you were, clad in nothing but sweatpants and a grey hoodie, holding a grocery bag as you trudge down the street. It is already raining a decent amount, and the walk back to the dorm isn’t extremely close. You want to call an Uber or a cab, but you also happened to have left your phone on your desk. 

“(Name) you dumbass,” you curse yourself. “But how was I supposed to know that it would fucking rain?! The forecast said at midnight. Not at nine,” 

You are already drenched and you’re sure that you’ll get sick by the time you get back to the dorm. It was just supposed to be a quick run to the store for some pads, what the hell? 

Then you have an idea and you start speed walking down a familiar route. Surely the boys won’t mind if you take shelter at their apartment until the storm passes? Or at least, everyone except Jimin. At the thought of Jimin, your heart goes through a roller coaster of emotions. You hadn’t spoken to him since the night of your realization. It’ll probably be extremely awkward to see him again. You hope he is at the studio practicing for his big competition. But a part of you also hopes to see him at the dorm. 

Pushing all thoughts of Jimin aside, you find yourself in front of the door to Seokjin’s apartment. Quickly wiping your wet shoes against the welcome mat, you raise a hand and knock, noticing that your fingers are shaking due to the cold. You hear some indistinguishable yelling before the door is thrown open. Kim Taehyung stands in front of you, brown hair falling free. A long sleeved white shirt covers his body and he wears grey sweatpants just like you do. A single Chanel necklace finishes his look and you are about to comment on it when he starts yelling. 

“What the fuck, (Name)?!” 

“HEY MIND YOUR LANGUAGE YOU FUCKING BRAT!!” Seokjin yells from inside and you hear Jeongguk cackle. Taehyung utters a half-hearted apology and turns to you, a scowl on his face. 

“Why the hell are you outside in the rain?! Don’t you know what an umbrella is?!!” 

You roll your eyes at him. “Of course I do! I didn’t know that it would freaking rain while I was walking home. That’s why I’m here!!” 

“Get inside,” he grumbles, tugging your arm and pulling you into the homely apartment. You quickly yell out a greeting to Seokjin, Jeongguk, and Namjoon as you pass them and grin as you hear the eldest reprimanding you for getting wet in the rain. In a few minutes, you are standing awkwardly in Taehyung’s bedroom, trying not get anything wet as he rummages around in his closet. 

“Here,” he says, handing you a pile of clothes. “Put these on and give me your clothes. I’ll put them in the dryer,” 

You take the clothes and smile gratefully before heading into the bathroom to change. You end up loving Taehyung’s oversized clothing, and come out feeling warm and comfortable. He grins at you as you jump into his bed, pulling up the covers for an even toastier feeling. 

“Have you eaten dinner, yet? I think we still have some leftovers,” 

“I did, thanks,” you smile and he waves you off. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” he asks already pulling out his laptop. You nod eagerly. 

"Can I use your phone to call Sana real quick?"

A few minutes later, you are cuddled up next to Taehyung as The Circle of Life starts playing and Rafiki holds up young baby Simba. 

You have fun with Taehyung. He is probably the best company you could have ever asked for and you wish that you’ll be friends with him for a long time. You grin as you hear him sing along to the songs and notice that he has a great voice. 

“Wow, TaeTae,” you muse. “You have a great voice! You should sing more often,” 

“Me?” Taehyung said bashfully. “Nah, it’s nothing great,” 

“Better than I sound,” you laugh as you lean against him. "Maybe you should become a singer," 

"You know I want to be an actor," he lets you snuggle into him with a chuckle. 

"Then maybe you should do musicals. That way you can sing and act. Or you should sing all the soundtracks on your OSTs," 

He laughs. "We'll see," 

You awake to voices. You crack an eye open, realizing that you are not in your own bed. You're still in Taehyung's bed, tucked in comfortably. The voices aren't too loud, but they aren't soft either. They sound like an argument. Namjoon is fast asleep on the other side of the room, papers scattered all over his bed, which makes you smile softly. You sit up slowly, seeing Taehyung's closed laptop at the foot of the bed. Where was Taehyung anyway? 

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and shiver a bit when you rip the covers off of your body. You stand up and quietly walk towards the door. Taking a peek at the clock, you realize that it is already past midnight. The storm seems to be raging still. You slowly pull the door open, not wanting to wake any of the sleeping boys. The arguing gets louder as you approach the living room. 

"I just don't understand what your problem is," Taehyung sighs. You pause. 

"My problem?" Jimin asks incredulously. "Why is she in your bed?" 

Oh he's asking about you. Taehyung breathes out through his nose. 

"Again, I told you. She got caught in the rain and showed up. So I gave her some spare clothes and we watched the fucking Lion King and then we fell asleep. What's so wrong with that?" 

"I just-! Why?! Since when is she so close with the rest of you all that she gets to stay over at our house?" 

Taehyung was beginning to get pissed. "Listen maybe you didn't notice, but since the beginning of the year, she's been getting to know us. So obviously now we're frien--" 

"You've been trying to get into her pants, huh?" Jimin asks with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been trying to get into her pants and that’s why you’ve been so nice and welcoming,” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What?! Why would you say that?! How could you think that about me?!” Taehyung’s voice raises in volume. “I am not--” 

“You’re never this welcoming towards people. Especially towards kids in the other years. You didn’t like Jeongguk for so long after he met us and--” 

“Oh,” Taehyung sneers. “Really? You’re gonna call me out for acting weird. What about you?” 

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” 

“You think I’m being weird by being (Name)’s friend so fast but look at you. You fucking hook up with Eunji out of nowhere. You always tell me who you’re into and you didn’t when it came to her,” 

Jimin blanches. “That has nothing to do with this--” 

“Sure thing, buddy,” Taehyung laughs. “Sure thing. When you can explain why you suddenly became interested in Eunji, then come find me--” 

“But--” 

“And like, what does it matter to you? You obviously couldn’t care less about (Name). So even if I was trying to get into her pants, why the fuck do you care?” 

“I don’t care--” 

“Ha,” Taehyung scoffs out a mocking laugh. “You can’t forget what happened in the past, huh?” 

“What?” Jimin growls. 

“You still remember (Name), don’t you?” 

“Taehyung, what are you talking ab--” 

“Haha, yeah,” he spits with disdain in his voice. “I know about your old best friend (Name),” 

Jimin’s eyes widen. “How the hell do you know? Did she tell you?” 

“That’s not important. What’s important is that you still remember her and that you obviously still care about her--” 

“I do not care,” 

“Oh really,” a devilish smirk forms on Taehyung’s face, one that you have never seen before. “Then it shouldn’t bother you to know that I was just trying to fuck her,” 

“Oh haha, nice try Tae,” Jimin grins mockingly. “You’re just trying to get me to admit that I care. Well I fucking don’t. Do whatever the fuck you want with her,” 

“You’re really going to let me?” 

Jimin shrugs carelessly. “I couldn’t care less. Just add one more name to your list of Girls I Fucked,” 

“There isn’t any part of you that is trying to stop me?! Not even a bit? How could you let someone do that to her??” Taehyung is now angry. “This better not have anything to do with Eunji!” 

“No! It doesn’t have anything to do with Eunji!!”

“Oh really?” 

Jimin sighs. “Yeah and to answer your question, as much as I don’t like the idea of you doing something like that to someone, (Name) isn’t a little girl anymore. She’s free to make her own decisions and if she wants you, then I won’t stand in the way,” 

“Jiminie,” Taehyung sighs. “I don’t want to get into (Name)’s pants, alright? That was never my intention with her. I just want to know why you won’t try with her. What made it so unbearable to be her friend again? From what I know, she’s an absolute sweethear--” 

“I know,” Jimin cuts him off. “She never did anything. I just...feel like a huge jerk whenever I look at her,” 

He chuckles dryly. “I freaking cut her off in high school because I thought I wouldn’t be considered cool if I continued to hang around with her. You tell me how I can face her after that dick move, Taehyungie,” 

Taehyung watches Jimin as he speaks and breaks out into a gentle smile. “Listen, everyone makes mistakes. I’m not justifying what you did but I don’t think that you should be acting weirdly around her just because of that. If you really still care about her, you’ll apologize and try your best to get that relationship again,” 

Jimin manages a small smile before he shoves Taehyung lightly. 

“Since when were you so good at relationship advice?” he grins. Taehyung strokes his imaginary beard thoughtfully. 

“I’m glad you came to me, my son,” 

Jimin’s tinkling laugh echoes through the room and you manage a teary smile when you see his crescent shaped eyes. Deciding that you had heard enough, you tiptoe back to Taehyung’s room, shutting the door quietly before snuggling into the covers. You grin at all you’ve heard. So he does remember. He remembers you and he wants to be your friend. He regrets what he did. He’s still the same caring Jimin you’ve always known. You wouldn’t know that if it weren’t for Taehyung though. You shut your eyes and pretend to be fast asleep as you hear Taehyung shuffle into the room. A gentle tap to your shoulder makes you fake waking up. 

“Oh? TaeTae,” 

“Hey sweetness,” he mumbles, trying not to wake Namjoon. “You fell asleep after the movie. Do you have to get back home or do you wanna stay over?” 

“Can I stay?” you mutter. 

“‘Course you can,” 

Perhaps Taehyung was the best person on the fucking planet. 

This time you wake up to someone aggressively poking your cheek. You groan angrily, setting at the hand and you hear someone snigger. 

"Ah, her cheeks are all squishy haha," 

You open your eyes to seeing a familiar grin. 

"Shut up Jeon," you mumble. 

"You want some breakfast?" he asks, ignoring your comment. 

"(Name), if you want breakfast, you need to come get it or Hoseok's gonna eat it all," you hear Yoongi say from the doorway. 

"Aw, thanks for thinking of me, Yoongi," you grin as you sit up, trying to smooth down your hair. You see him smile lightly as he leaves and you stretch out the stiffness in your joints. 

After freshening up, you take a seat at the table in between Taehyung and Namjoon. 

"Did you sleep well?" Tae asks you, smiling gently. 

"Yeah, thanks TaeTae," you beam at him.

"This is the first time you're staying over right?" Namjoon asks and you smile with a nod. 

"Yeah sorry I just crashed here without saying anything," 

"How many times do I have to tell you that it's okay. Our house is your house now," Seokjin stresses which makes you grin. At that moment, Jimin joins the table, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

"Morning Jiminie," Taehyung greets. Jimin grins at the fellow 95 liner, the two of them sharing a secret conversation. 

"Morning Taehyungie," he replies. You continue to stare at him, feeling embarrassed yet confident. Eventually, his warm chocolate eyes land on you. You hesitate, but give him the first real smile you have in a long time. He blinks, but slowly, a grin forms on his face. You can't help but flush under his smile, and you hurriedly shovel food into your mouth, fully aware of Taehyung cheeky smirk. 

"You heading home after this, (Name)?" Hoseok asks in the midst of his chewing. You swallow down your mouthful and nod. 

"Yeah, I have a paper to write and I wanted to call my parents too," 

Hoseok nods in agreement and you finish up the meal, listening to the boys bicker with a smile. After you finish, Taehyung walks you to the door, and watches you put on your boots. 

“So…” he says quietly, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “What’s up with you today?” 

“What do you mean?” you ask, though you know exactly what he means. 

“I mean you were all heart eyes at the table,” 

“Shut up Tae,” you snap, though he doesn’t take it seriously due to your smile. 

“OoOOoOo (Name)~” 

You snort at his childish behavior. “And you say you’re more mature than I am,” 

He continues his taunting. “But since when did you decide to--” 

“Since I heard everything your big mouth was saying last night,” and feeling satisfied with his shocked face, you wave goodbye and walk out the door. You hear him follow you out and ask “WAIT YOU HEARD?! YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN ANY OF THAT RIGHT?!” 

You turn back over your shoulder and grin. “I KNOW! I LOVE YOU!!” 

His shoulder’s slump and he smiles lazily, knowing exactly what you are thanking him for. “Love you too,” 

***

Even though you’ve realized that you harbor some kind of feelings for Jimin, it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with them. What used to be nostalgia and sadness lingering around his name was now replaced with giddiness and unfamiliar butterflies. One thing that did remain was the sense of longing that you felt. While at first it was longing for that friendship you once had, now it was the longing to be more. Of course that couldn’t happen, not when you were able to see Jung Eunji kiss Park Jimin when he got home everyday. A part of you is so extremely jealous, but another part of you can only sigh because this was inevitable. There was no chance that Eunji was bad for him. On the contrary, she was quite perfect. So you can’t hate her at all and instead you can stand by with a bittersweet smile as the months pass by. But even so, all you can do is enjoy your time with your friends, just as you are doing now. 

“You need to date,” Jeongguk mutters to you. The neon lights in the room highlight his handsome facial features and shine in his youthful eyes. You stare at him blankly. “No offense,” 

“Um, I take full offense. Are you implying that I’m lonely?” 

“Yes,” the ravenette answers. You gasp dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. “You’ve been single all year! You need some action, babe,” he continues. 

“Uh huh, well if you can find me someone, let me know,” you chuckle with a shake of your head as you clink your glass with his before taking a sip. 

"Hm, what about the mysterious man who's had his eyes on you all night?" Jeongguk comments, his honey-like eyes flickering across the room. You follow his gaze and do indeed find dark eyes on you. You gulp, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

"I don't know, Guk," you mumble honestly, letting your gaze roam to where Jimin is playfully dancing with Eunji. 

"Oh, why not? He looks like he's into you!!" Jeongguk whines, slapping your shoulder. "Why won't you look at someone for once?" 

I am looking at someone; you just don't know who.

"You need to forget about whoever you're still hung up on," the male says, placing a palm under his chin. “If it’s this Youngjae dude or someone else or whoever, you gotta forget about them because obviously, you aren’t getting anywhere with any of them,” 

You sigh, knowing that he’s right. Were you really going to stay hung up on Jimin, who is obviously in a happy relationship already? 

“Okay fine, you’re right,” 

Jeongguk smirks triumphantly before standing up. “Then I’ll leave you to it, (Name),” 

“What?! Wait!!” you desperately call after him, but he only flashes a mischievous grin before walking off in the direction of Hoseok and Namjoon. You groan, feeling awkward sitting by yourself. That doesn’t last for long though, because soon enough, the handsome stranger is standing in front of you. 

You don’t exactly know what spurred you to accept his invitations, but you end up laughing with him throughout the night. He keeps a respectable distance because he knows you’re a bit tipsy, which you can’t help but admire. The guy is extremely sweet and you know you’ve seen him before around school. He introduces himself as an Im Jaebum, a third year, and that confirms where you’ve seen him. You can actually see yourself being happy with him. Of course, that might just be your drunkenness and loneliness talking, but he is genuinely nice. By the end of the night, he walks you home, his deep chuckles ringing in your ear as you ramble on about something or the other without a care in the world. After he sweetly escorts you to your door, you fall into bed with a sweet smile, knowing that his digits are inputted into the memory of your phone. 

***

Two weeks later, you are lazily lounging at the boys’ dorm. You’re draped across the couch, your legs laying in Jeongguk’s lap, who, like usual, has his remote controller in his hands. You are grinning as you rapidly text Jaebum. You haven’t officially started dating him yet, but he has taken you out a few times, all of which you’ve enjoyed yourself to the core. You are biting your lip to conceal laughter as he rambles about his friend Jackson who won’t ever do what he’s told when Jimin gets home. The black-haired male groans in pain as he stretches out his muscles and plops into the single-seater. 

“Hey hyung,” Jeongguk greets. 

“Hey Gukkie. Hey (Name),” he replies. You tear your eyes away from your phone to smile at him, your heart still fluttering. “Hey Jimin,” 

Jeongguk and Jimin make small talk as you immerse yourself in your texting again. Taehyung eventually joins their conversation with a snack in his hand. It is only a few minutes later when Jeongguk speaks directly to you. 

“So I take it my plan went well?” he smirks with knowing eyes as you flush. 

“What plan?” Taehyung asks with a mouthful of chips. 

“What’s his name?” Jeongguk asks, ignoring his hyung’s inquiry. 

“Uhh, Im Jaebum,” you can’t help but smile when Jeongguk’s eyes widen. 

“Wait, that was Im Jaebum!! I’ve heard so much about him. He’s the one who’s really good at b-boying, right?” 

You grin and nod and Jeongguk chuckles proudly. “Total score, (Nickname). I’m so proud of you,” 

Taehyung sits up straight, his brows furrowed. “Wait...you mean you’re…?” 

“Dating,” Jeongguk finishes. Taehyung’s jaw drops, eyes flickering to you with confusion. 

“I was gonna tell you,” you say honestly. “And we aren’t dating yet. We just went out a few times,” 

Taehyung shoots you a look as though saying ‘you’d better explain all of this later.’ 

“Isn’t it great hyung? She’s been single since we met her. It’s time she gets a little romance,” Jeongguk grins as he continues clicking his controller. 

“Yeah, congrats (Name),” 

They are the first words Jimin utters in the conversation and when you look at him he is smiling at you, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You feel a bit disappointed that he isn’t upset about it, but that’s just your stupid fantasy talking. You flash him a similar smile, one that you don’t quite mean. 

“Thanks, Jimin,” 

Taehyung is watching your exchange with observant eyes but he doesn’t say anything, though he looks like he really wants to. After that conversation ends, there is some kind of tension in the air that you cannot break. 

A few hours later, while Yoongi made dinner, Taehyung tugs you into his bedroom. 

“What the heck?” he whisper-shouts once he shuts the door. 

“What?” you ask dumbly. 

“Im Jaebum, (Name)? Really?” 

You cross your arms across your chest defensively. “What’s wrong with Jaebum?” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue exasperatedly. “Nothing’s wrong with him. Just...what happened to Jimin? I thought you liked him!” 

Your shoulders slump dejectedly. “I do! O-Or I did. I don’t know Tae!! I’m trying so hard to stop--” 

“What? Why?!” he asks. 

“Because,” you burst and his hands flinch at your volume. “He’s already with someone else! I’ve been pining after him all these years and now am I just supposed to sit by and be alone while he dates her?! Do you just expect me to stay stuck on him forever?! It’s obvious he doesn’t return my feelings so I’m trying to move on!!” 

Taehyung purses his lips, sympathy swirling around in his eyes. “Okay, you’re right. I just--as long as you’re happy with him, (Name),” he sighs, before giving you a sad smile and holds his arms open. You reciprocate and accept his invitation, wrapping your arms around him in desperate need of his affection. 

*** 

You can only sigh as you disconnect the call which catches the attention of the male sitting next to you. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Yoongi asks, looking down at you. You sigh yet again. 

“I don’t know…? It’s hard to explain,” you mumble. 

“Talk to me,” he says bluntly. You’ve known Yoongi long enough to tell that this was his invitation for you to dump your emotions on him, so you do just that. 

“It’s just---it feels forced,” you say, waving your hands around exasperatedly. At Yoongi’s hum, you continue. “I mean, I like Jaebum and all, but I feel like I’m not really putting my entire mind into this, y’know?” 

Yoongi nods mutely. “So you’re saying it’s one-sided?” 

“Well,” you try to explain. “I do have feelings for him. But I just feel like he’s more invested in this relationship than I am. And I want to be more invested!! I do! But I…” 

“You just don’t feel it?” the mint-haired male offers and you nod. 

“Yeah. And that makes me feel really bad. He’s such a good guy. He doesn’t deserve my bullshit,” 

“Then maybe you should...y’know? End it?” Yoongi advises, picking up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and shoving it into his mouth. You look down sadly. 

“Yeah I probably will. I’m really going to miss him though,” you mumble. It’s weird to explain how you feel. On one hand, you absolutely adore Jaebum. He was the perfect guy and probably ideal for so many people. He was smart, funny, talented, and handsome. He’d done nothing but take care of you in the sweetest way possible and he’d been nothing but respectful and loving.  You feel horrible about the way you feel about him. You love him, but you hate the fact that your own mind betrays you. Instead of thinking of him 24/7, like any lovestruck fool would do, your mind wanders and lingers on the memories of the crescent eyed boy who really stole your heart. After so much thinking, you began to feel guilty, believing that you were betraying Jaebum in some way as you thought about Jimin. And here you were; Yoongi has to give you relationship advice. 

You are just picking up a piece of meat with your chopsticks when you hear the front door open. Jimin walks in, looking extremely tired. His big performance was now only a month away, which increased the time he spent practicing. 

“Hey Jimin,” you greet. His lips twitch upward into a tired smile. 

“Hey (Name),” 

Your reply is interrupted by Jimin’s bedroom door swinging open and out walks Eunji. She has her arms crossed with a disapproving glare. 

“Hey noona,” the black-haired male greets, but no answer comes from his girlfriend. She continues to look at him. “What?” 

“What?! Seriously? Park Jimin do you know what time it is?! It’s past 11 at night! Why are you just getting home now?!? It’s not good for you!” she explodes. It is the first time you’ve ever seen her yell, especially at Jimin. Though the male in question only seems to grow more tired as he hears her words. He sighs heavily as he begins walking towards his bedroom. 

“Noona I told you. My competition is in less than five weeks. I need to practice--”

“What about us? We agreed that we’d spend tonight together and you forgot--” Eunji starts complaining, her voice rising as she follows him. 

“No! I did not forget!! I specifically texted you and told you that I wouldn’t be able to go out tonight!” 

“You’ve been saying that a lot recently!! What? Is it that you don’t want to spend time with me?!” 

“God, noona, no! That’s not it!! I’m fucking sorry alright!” 

“Oh, great, sorry. The same exact thing you said last time….” her voice trails off as the door to Jimin’s shuts loudly. Their yells now turned into muffled sounds of aggravation. 

“Ugh again? That’s the third time this week!” Hoseok groans as he joins you and Yoongi at the table. 

“Are they doing okay?” you ask. You’ve never really tried to pry too deep into Jimin and Eunji’s relationship. It had been a bit sore of a subject for you since you found out. But you had never heard them fight like this. Eunji was always sweetly taking care of Jimin and he would always show her love in the cutest way possible. 

“To be honest, I’m not sure,” Yoongi sighs. “They’ve been pretty tense the past few weeks,” 

“Really? Why?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from sounding too nosy. Neither of the boys seem to notice though and Hoseok shrugs. 

“I don’t know. Last week, Eunji was saying something about how he’s pulling away from her and it isn’t really how it was when they started dating,” 

“But she probably just feels that way because Jimin is focusing so much on practicing right now,” Yoongi shrugs. “I mean we all know how he feels about dancing. He’s been preparing for this competition for a long time. He obviously wants to put his all into it,” 

“Yeah I can see why both of them are having problems,” Hoseok says. “It’s not like any of them are doing anything wrong. It’s just…” he trails off but you and Yoongi know what he means. You can’t help but feel a little bad. How could a happy relationship go so sour over such a thing? Then you remember your own predicament and wince. 

It takes you a week to finally break it off with Jaebum. It hurts to leave him, especially when you see the look on his face, but you can’t help but feel as though a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. But you do still hurt….

“I just didn’t know what to do!” you blubber as Jeongguk rubs your shoulder. 

“It’s okay (Name). I understand,” 

From his spot on the couch, Hoseok sends you a sad sort of grimace and you can’t help but cry harder. 

“I-I really wanted to be with him, you know?” you sob as Jeongguk clicks his tongue sympathetically. 

"Yeah?" Hoseok asks. 

"Yeah," you cry. "He was perfect," 

"You know, sometimes fate is just mean like that. There's always going to be someone perfect like Jaebum that isn't meant for you," Jeongguk says wisely. 

"And how many relationships have you been in, Jeongguk?" Hoseok asks the bunny-like male. 

"That's not that point, hyung!!" Jeongguk protests. "The point is that sometimes relationships aren't meant to be. Don't worry, (Nickname). You'll end up with someone great!" 

You sniffle noisily and wipe your eyes with your sleeve. You're sure your nose is red and your face is puffy. 

“I guess. But I really miss him now!!” a fresh wave of tears starts again and you put your head in your hands. Through your fingers, you catch Yoongi holding back a snigger at your tantrum and you whine loudly, opting to chuck a pillow at him. 

“STOP LAUGHING AT ME!!” 

He chortles. “I’m sorry but you were so ready to do it and now you’re crying like a baby,” 

You try to hold back a smile at his tone because you know he’s just teasing. If you hadn’t told him how you felt about breaking up with Jaebum, you know he’d be more serious. But he knows that you feel relieved and so he thinks he’s entitled to make fun of you. 

“Shut up,” you mutter, swiping your sleeve under your eyes again. Seokjin, who had been silently playing Mario Kart, voices his opinion. 

“You’ll be fine, (Name). JK’s right. If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be. Stop crying now. You look ugly,” 

“EVeRYoNE hATeS mE!!” you sob, dramatically turning into Jeongguk’s shoulder as his body shakes with laughter. You hear Hoseok giggle and then some footsteps follow. 

“Finally. You always use all the fucking hot water,” Yoongi grumbles and you hear Jimin’s tinkling laugh. You look up to see him and when his eyes land on you, his happy expression morphs into shock. 

“Wha-? (Name) have you been crying?!” he asks, before swiftly walking closer to you. “What happened?! Are you hurt?!” 

You blink stupidly, trying to hide the real tracks of tears from your earlier episode. Though before you can answer, Jeongguk beats you to it. 

“Eh, yeah she is. She and Jaebum broke up,” he informs the elder male. Jimin stands up straight and his eyes flicker with confusion, surprise, and something else you can’t quite place. 

“Oh?” his voice goes into a higher pitch than it naturally is. He clears his throat. “W-Why?” 

Your mood instantly dampens as you think of the male you just gave up. You really did miss him. 

“I-” you can’t help but get choked up again. “I don’t know,” 

Immediately, anger flickers across Jimin’s face. “Wait...he didn’t fucking...dump you for some stupid reason did he?” 

You shake your head quickly. “No no! I broke up with him,” 

The ravenette’s anger fizzles. “Oh. Then why are you crying?” 

“I don’t know,” you repeat miserably. “I can’t explain it,” 

Jimin seems to understand what you want to say and nods sympathetically.

“It’s okay. It’ll get better soon,” 

You sigh heavily and sniffle before nodding. You would die before you admitted that just seeing Jimin had already made it a bit better. 

***

You attentively watch every step that Jimin takes. His movements switch from fluid to controlled in seconds, yet his face is lacking any struggle, almost as if this came easy to him. Though for you, you couldn’t stand on your own two feet, so the way he was dancing right now was extremely admirable. The occasional squeaks of his sneakers were drowned out by the music echoing through the room. Next to you, Taehyung and Hoseok are watching with rapt attention. When Jimin hit the final beat, all three of you began to clap and praise him. 

“Woahh that was really cool, Jiminie!”

“That was amazing!”

“It was much better than last time just make sure you keep your legs straighter when you go down at the end,” 

Jimin grins sheepishly and nods at Hoseok’s suggestion. He starts walking towards his bag and pulls out his water bottle for a sip. Taehyung turns to you. 

“Well, (Name)? What did you think of Jimin’s performance?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, you could see Jimin looking at you for your answer. “It was so good. I wish I could dance like that,” you compliment honestly. Jimin’s lips twitch upwards at your words, but he doesn’t say anything. Taehyung looks satisfied before a mischievous glint takes place in his eyes. 

“I’m gonna go buy something for us to eat,” he says, standing up and dusting off his clothes. Your eyes widen. 

“I don’t wanna eat right no-” Jimin starts but his friend cuts him off. 

“Shut up, Jimin,” he scolds. “You have to get your energy back!” 

Taehyung grins at you; he was really trying to put you in an uncomfortable spot, huh? He then exits the practice room and you huff angrily. Well, at least Hoseok was still here. 

“HEY HOBI HYUNG!! CAN YOU COME WITH ME?! 

Oh no…

The male in question clicks his tongue. “What?!” 

“I DON’T KNOW WHERE TO BUY FOOD!!” Taehyung yells, poking his head into the room

“Ugh~” Hoseok groans, before standing up. “I’ll be back guys,” 

You shoot Taehyung a look of desperation, but all you get back is a wink and the door swings closed. You sigh as the room becomes silent. Jimin is grinning lightly when you look at him. 

“I’m happy you liked the dance, (Name),” he smiles and you feel your shoulders relax. His words didn’t help your sweaty palms though. 

“Of course I did! It was awesome!!” 

Jimin grins at your answer, a slight hue of pink dusting his cheeks. Though you can’t help yourself from rambling further. 

“I mean, if only I could do that!! It’s so amazing how you can dance so effortlessly. Like, it looks like you don’t even have to think about what you’re doing! You’re probably the best dancer I’ve ever met. Well, you and Hoseok. But you’re still so talented! You know, even when we were younger I used to be jealous of your dancing skills?! And it’s not fair! You looked so cool doing it!!” 

By the time you realized that you hadn’t stopped talking, all of your words were spilled into the air. While internally cursing yourself for your running mouth, Jimin’s blush deepens. 

“Aw,” he smiles. “Thanks, (Nickname),” 

The syllables of your nickname as they escape his lips makes your heart race and you smile back at him, ignoring the dampness of your palms. Though neither of you utter a word for the next few moments, you are fine just looking at him. He is about to speak when the practice door swings open. You turn to send a signal to Taehyung that everything was going well, but your shoulders drop when you see Eunji standing there instead. She isn’t angry or anything, but she doesn’t look too happy either. You steal a glance at the clock and realize that it was now hitting 12:30 in the morning. She seems to be aware of that as well. 

Jimin’s smile drops slightly. “Hey noona,” 

“You’ve been here this whole time?” she asks in a low voice. Jimin nods. 

“Jimin,” she sighs, her body slumping with some kind of unseen weight. “Jimin I’ve been calling you all evening,” 

“Oh shit,” Jimin curses. “Really? I’m so sorry noona. My phone was off and in my ba--” 

“Jimin,” she raises a hand to silence him. “You could have told me. I was waiting at your dorm all night,” 

It is then that her eyes drift to see you sitting against the wall and they narrow. It is the first time you’ve seen an expression like that on her and you want nothing more than to press yourself into the wall and disappear. 

“I’m really sorry, noona,” he sincerely apologizes again, walking closer to her. “My mind has just been so occupied with this competition and I--” 

“Let’s talk later, okay? I’m going home,” she says icily, stepping away from him. Jimin doesn’t make a move to stop her from leaving. Before she leaves, she looks at you once again and you feel a chill run up your spine at the look that is remarkably like a glare. Once she leaves, the atmosphere becomes tense, no more the fluttery air that was just present moments ago. You sneak a glance at Jimin, who looks defeated. He runs his hands through his black locks and when he catches your eyes, he manages to send you a gentle smile. 

“It’ll be fine, Jimin,” you offer, no matter how much it stings to say. “It’ll all be okay,” 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats, though it sounds more like he is convincing you than convincing himself. 

***

You shove a spoonful of Rocky Road into your mouth as you watch Taehyung sign into Netflix on your computer. You both are alone at your dorm tonight since Sana is visiting her parents for the weekend. You both enjoyed spending free time with each other and since you had finished most of the work you had and you didn’t have your part-time job, Taehyung was the obvious option. He plops on your bed and snatches the tub of sweetness away from you, to which you protest but are ultimately ignored. 

Though Taehyung seems a little off today. He isn’t chattering your ear off about something or the other and his hands are fidgeting a lot. 

“Hey TaeTae?” you ask, looking at him. 

He flinches and you start. “Hm? Oh yeah what?” he asks absent-mindedly. 

“You okay?” you frown. “You’ve been kind of...jumpy?” 

“Oh,” he shakes his head and smiles lightly. “Yeah I’m fine,” 

You’re not quite convinced, but you decide not to push him and instead focus on the screen as Us starts playing. You don’t notice Taehyung bite his lip and look at you with a bit of guilt. As the movie progresses, there are multiple instances when he opens his mouth to speak, but can’t manage to get words out. It takes him about half the movie, but eventually can’t control himself. He stretches across the bed to pause the movie and you look up at him quizzically. 

“I have to tell you something,” he says quietly. And then he starts. “Yesterday, I was at the dorm…” 

Taehyung lazily lounged on the couch, his hand digging into a bag of Cheetos as he lethargically watched Supernatural on TV. The dorm was pretty quiet this evening, he noticed. Yoongi and Namjoon were in their rooms working on music while Seokjin had gone to visit his brother. Surprisingly, you and Jeongguk were out eating together, with the latter having to pay after losing a bet to you. And not so surprisingly, Jimin and Hoseok were at the studio. So here he was. 

He didn’t really know how many episodes he had breezed through, but he was in the middle of choking on his laughter as Castiel yells “Hey assbutt!” when Jimin gets home. 

“Oh hey Jimini--” he paused when he saw Jimin’s somber expression. “What’s wrong?” 

Jimin looked up and smiled lightly before heading off to his room. “Oh nothing, I’m just really tired,” 

Taehyung knew that that wasn’t it, but he didn’t push his friend, and turned back to Dean’s appalled face. A few minutes later, he hears Jimin shuffling around in the kitchen as he makes dinner for himself before he walks into the living room and plops down next to him. 

“So…” Jimin asks, after a few minutes of watching Sam and his glorious hair. “Where is everyone?” 

“Yoongi hyung and Namjoon hyung are working. You know Jin hyung’s visiting his brother. And Jeongguk went out to eat with (Name),” Taehyung replies. Jimin turns to look at him quickly. 

“(Name) and Jeongguk?”  he repeats. Taehyung raises a brow and nods slowly. “L-Like on…..are they on a date?”

Taehyung reels back, his lips curling a bit. “What no! What is wrong with you?! He lost a bet so he’s taking her out and paying!” 

Jimin’s shoulders fall and he sighs a bit. “Oh okay,” he chuckles awkwardly. “Sorry, I was just checking,” 

Taehyung frowns, but slowly nods, before he focuses back on the show. “So how was practice? Is Hobi hyung still there?” 

Jimin nods in the middle of his munches. “Yeah. I’m getting pretty nervous about this now that it’s so close,” 

“Nah, you’ll be fine. You’re a great dancer. Just do your best,” Taehyung answers. It is silent for a minute, the two brother-like friends watching the show with interest before Taehyung poses a question. “Oh I wanted to ask. We’re all gonna go to Taeyong’s party tomorrow. You up for it?” 

“Who’s we all?” Jimin asks, turning to face him. 

“The hyungs, except for Jin hyung, me, and Gukkie,” 

“And (Name)?” Jimin asks. Taehyung stops to think, though it is a bit curious that Jimin keeps bringing you up. 

“I haven’t asked her. I could text her and see. I think she’d probably come,”  

“Okay, sure,” Jimin agrees, taking another bite of his dinner. 

“You can bring Eunji, too,” Taehyung says. But Jimin stiffens. 

“Uh, I don’t think she’d wanna come,” he answers. Taehyung blinks. 

“Why?” he pauses. “Oh. Because you’ve been kinda fighting lately? It’s okay. You can take her to the party to show her that you still wanna be with her. You know, spend time with her,” 

Jimin grimaces. “That sounds great and all but I really don’t think she’d agree,” Taehyung chuckles. “Why not?” 

“Because I broke up with Eunji,” 

There is a pause in the conversation. 

“What?” Taehyung asks. 

“I broke up with Eunji,” Jimin repeats. 

“Wha-? Why?” 

“I….” he sighs, as though unable to form words. “I don’t know man. You know how you always say that you break up with the girls you date because you don’t....”

“Love them?” Taehyung offers and Jimin nods miserably. 

“I mean I cared about Eunji, I really did. But like I don’t feel like I wanna be with her anymore. It feels like I’m forcing myself to be with her. And I didn’t want to do that because it was obviously hurting her!” 

Taehyung nods understandingly. “Yeah I get that. It’s okay. How do you feel? Are you okay?” 

Jimin winces. “I feel...really guilty. And kinda sad too. But I also feel like I did the right thing for her,” 

“I’m sure you did. As long as you’re happy, Jimin,” Taehyung smiles gently, turning back to the screen. For a second he thinks of you. He thinks of how long you’ve been pining after Jimin. He wants to tell you, he really does, but he doesn’t want to give you any false hope. He doesn’t want you to waste your time longing for Jimin if there was no chance to begin with. That’s why, internally, he debates on whether he had the right to tell you, or if you should hear it from Jimin himself.

“Thanks for everything, Taehyungie,” 

“He and Eunji...broke up?” you ask incredulously. Taehyung nods, biting his bottom lip gently. “Aw TaeTae. Why were you so nervous about that?” 

“I just didn’t want to have you be stuck on him, you know? I don’t know. I was trying to figure out if it was my place to tell you,” he answers honestly. Though you only smile up at him before nuzzling into his side. 

“Thanks for always thinking of me, Tae,” you sigh, though you can’t quell that spark of hope that has ignited in your chest. You feel him squeeze your shoulders and in his sweet voice he replies

“Of course, (Nickname),”

You continue to watch without a care in the world but Taehyung still feels guilt in his gut. Because he had left out the next part of the conversation. And he wasn’t sure if that part could benefit you or break your heart. 

After a few minutes, Taehyung asks the question in his head. “If you don’t mind me asking, when did you start feeling that way about Eunji? I mean, like you didn’t love her?” 

“Um,” Jimin licks his lips. “I think a few months ago? I just hated how she’d always be disappointed in me for not calling her and stuff,” 

“Ah got it,” Taehyung answers. “I guess that’s why you both started fighting too,” 

“Yeah…” Jimin trails off. Another beat of silence passes before he speaks up again. “I…” 

Taehyung turns to look at him. “What?” 

“I think it’s also because…” he pauses. “Because I have feelings for someone else,” 

Jimin refused to tell Taehyung who it was. But as he said, it could benefit you if the person was you, and if it wasn’t, it would break your heart. 

And Taehyung wasn’t sure if he wanted to take that risk.

***

“What time will you be back again?” Sana asks you as she watches you brush your hair. After you’re sure you’ve got all the tangles out, you place the brush down and turn to her. 

“To be honest I’m not sure. I think the actual competition ends at eight but it might run longer. Plus, Jin said I could just crash at their place if it goes on too late,” you answer. “I’ll text you anyway,” 

“Got it,” she grins. In just a few minutes, a rapt knock sounds from your door and stand up. When you pull it open, Yoongi stands there with Namjoon. 

“Ready to go?” Namjoon asks, his dimples showing up as he smiles down at you. You nod eagerly. 

“Then hurry your ass up and let’s go,” Yoongi mumbles, though he is slightly smiling. You roll your eyes and yell out a goodbye to your roommate, before shutting the door behind you. Following the two music lovers out, they lead you to the car. Namjoon pulls the door open as Yoongi goes to take a seat next to Seokjin in the front. Reciprocating the greetings you get from the boys, you comfortably seat yourself between Hoseok and Jeongguk as the car starts. Though the boys continue to chatter with each other, or occasionally bicker, you can’t help but glance at Jimin, who has been silent the whole ride. He stares out the window dazedly and his leg bounces nervously. Namjoon seems to notice this as well, as he places a comforting hand on the male’s knee. 

“You’re gonna be fine, Jimin,” he says.

“Yeah, you’ve practiced so much! It’s all gonna pay off!” Hoseok adds, brightening up the mood with his cheeriness as he always does. Jimin only shuts his eyes, blows out a breath, and nods. You offer him a smile when he catches your eye, and he shakily grins back. In another half an hour, all of you clamor out of the car in front of the place of the competition. 

“I have to go with all the other performers,” Jimin says to all of you. “You guys go through the front with all the people who came to watch,” 

“Got it,” Seokjin answers before breaking out into a smile. “Good luck, Jiminie!”

The other boys hug him and clap him on the back and smack his ass (Jeongguk) but he smiles gratefully at all of them. 

“Good luck, Jiminie,” you wish him with a smile before glomping him in a hug. Though it has been years, you can’t help but remember how it used to feel to hug him before something important. When you were younger, you used to think hugs would give him good luck, so now also, you’d like to believe that they would do something for him. You feel his hands gently squeeze you back before he lets you go. When you look at him, he is grinning at you, his chocolate eyes stretched in pretty crescents and that has you wanting to explode but you push away the butterflies and turn away from him, though you cannot stop smiling. You know he’ll be amazing. 

***

The car ride home is loud and rambunctious, just as one would expect from the seven boys who had stolen your heart. The chattering amongst you all doesn’t cease, even as Jimin flusteredly begs you all to stop. 

“Did you see the way he flipped?!” Jeongguk asks eagerly before making excessive hand gestures to accompany his words. “He was all WPAPPAPAAAAHH and then he landed so smoothly!!”  

“Yeah that was awesome!! But what about that part where he went into the splits and then got up without using like any of his hands?!” you squeal. “That was easily the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!!” 

“Ah c’mon guys,” Jimin whines with a blush, though he is grinning sheepishly. “You can stop now~” 

“And he was really hitting every beat! That was really well done,” Hoseok nods sagely as he effectively ignores Jimin’s request. Jimin only sighs with a shake of his head, leaning back into his seat with a smile as the moonlight hits the glinting gold medal around his neck. As soon as you all barge into the apartment, everyone plops into a couch or on the floor. Yoongi pulls out drinks for everyone and you all clink them together to celebrate Jimin’s victory. It is one of the best days you have with the boys, feeling now worries or stresses and nothing but happiness. 

“Dude,” Jeongguk slurs, his beer sloshing around as he motions towards Jimin. “All those nights in the s-studio really paid off~~~”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, his face turning extremely serious as he looks at his friend, totally unaware that he too is tipsy. “If Eunji could see you now!” 

Jimin, who is now sporting a light flush, looks at you quickly before looking away. You quickly turn back to your karaoke and began to sing excessively. 

“Even though she was a nice girl, you shouldn’t date someone if they come in the way of your dreams!” Namjoon nods wisely. He is holding the handle of a mug from the coffee table, which he had somehow broken off. 

“wHAt wISE woRdS!!” Hoseok suddenly shrieks from his position across the carpet, having even less control over his volume than usual. 

“Yeah I’m glad I ended it. I hope she’s happy~” Jimin smiles, his cheeks pink as he speaks. 

“You’re a mature guy for thinking so,” Yoongi says, sipping his wine and remaining the only one who knew how to handle his alcohol. He watches you and Seokjin loudly shriek to Fantastic Baby with a playful roll of his eyes. You all continue to pass the time with drinks, karaoke, and occasional remembrance of the beautiful performance you had witnessed earlier that evening. After Jeongguk’s very extra reenactment of Jimin’s dance, you stand up and stretch. 

“I should probably head back to the dorm,” you mumble. Seokjin, red in the face, laughs dramatically. 

“Girl, you can’t even stand on your own two feet,” he slurs and Jimin giggles loudly. You stick your tongue out and pull your sweater on. 

“You’re just extra drunk,” you point out and begin walking towards the door. You smile at Jimin, who is watching you go. 

“You did really well today, Jimin,” you whisper with tipsy smile. You really want to talk with him more, but you feel your nerves kick in and you settle with just seeing his pretty smile. 

“Thanks (Name),” 

You slip your sneakers on and wave dramatically to the boys. “See you guys later!” 

“Please don’t pass out on the way!” Yoongi yells after you, even though he knows you aren’t that drunk and can walk for fifteen minutes. You grin at the mint-haired musician and walk out the door. 

You are smiling as you step out into the warm summer air. A successful night for the boy you are obsessed with sits well with you, and having spent time with him and seeing him happy makes you happy in turn. You cross the street and are just about to continue your walk when you hear someone shout your name. You turn around to see Park Jimin standing at the door, a wide smile on his flushed face. 

“(NAME)!!” 

“WHAT?!” you yell back, thinking you must have forgotten something. 

“I NEED TO TELL YOU SOMETHING!” he cups his hands by his lips to amplify the sound of his voice.

“WHAT IS IT?” you ask. You see him take a deep breath and smile. 

“I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT I NEVER FORGOT ABOUT YOU AND I NEVER HATED YOU!! I ALWAYS MISSED OUR FRIENDSHIP AND I’M SO GLAD THAT WE GOT TO MEET EACH OTHER AGAIN!” 

You take a second to process his words before you break out into a happy smile. You open your mouth to tell him how glad you are to hear this, but he beats you to it. 

“BUT-” he says suddenly and you stop. “I CAN’T BE YOUR FRIEND LIKE WE WERE IN MIDDLE SCHOOL!” 

Your smile slowly drops, the beginning of a familiar sadness building up in your chest. 

“W-WHY?” you curse your voice crack, but await his answer. 

“BECAUSE-” he laughs loudly and you hear Hoseok scream from the hall: 

“TELL HER JIMIN!”

“BECAUSE I DON’T THINK I SEE YOU AS A FRIEND ANYMORE!!” he shouts and you pause. Suddenly, you fear the absolute worst, thinking that he does not want anything to do with you, that he doesn’t want to relive the friendship you once had. But then you hear Hoseok’s cheering and Namjoon’s praises and you start to think about what you just heard. 

“I-WHAT?” is all you can manage to yell back. You hear Jimin’s tinkling laugh and you can tell that he is embarrassed, but he is happy. He runs his fingers through his black hair and grins widely as Taehyung runs up to the door. 

“YOU WHAT?!” you hear the male yell, and Jimin laughs sheepishly. “SHE’S THE GIRL?!” 

Jimin nods mutely, though he is biting his plump lips to keep from smiling. You want to ask “what girl?” and “what are you talking about?” but you feel like your brain is short-circuiting. You hear Taehyung’s laugh of disbelief as he claps Jimin on the shoulder. “THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! GO!!” 

Jimin, empowered by the bit of alcohol running through his veins and his friend’s encouragement, stumbles down the street and makes his way to you. When he stands in front of you, eyes and smile soft like honey, you forget how to blink. You are far too concerned with taking in every single facial feature of the beautiful man in front of you. His pretty hands slowly move to cup your neck and you hold your breath. His chocolate eyes are half-lidded, though they search for permission from you. You aren’t exactly sure how you give it to him, but he takes a leap of faith and connects his lips to yours. You won’t ever be able to explain your emotions at that moment, but all you can feel is Jimin. It takes you a few seconds to respond, but when you do, you do so wholeheartedly. You quickly close the space between you two and tangle your fingers in his dark hair feeling as though gravity ceased to exist. He seems to be enjoying himself just as much and he moves his hands to circle your waist and pull you closer to him. You can faintly hear Taehyung and Jeongguk faking gags but you can’t even bother yourself to care. Not when the boy of your childhood has completely stolen your heart. Maybe it’s a few minutes, or a couple of hours, or perhaps even a day has passed; you’re not sure. But when he pulls away from you his dazzling smile is so bright you can’t help but chuckle. He noses your cheek with a soft laugh and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“You should text Sana,” he mumbles lowly, though you can hear the happiness in his voice. 

“Should I?” you ask back, closing your eyes in his embrace, feeling once again like a schoolgirl. He confirms with a gentle hum as he tugs you in the direction of the house. You lazily stumble after him, your legs feeling like jelly and butterflies actively fluttering in your gut. You watch him with loving eyes agreeing that he had never looked more handsome than in that moment. As Jimin pulls you into the apartment, Yoongi chuckles lowly. 

“It’s about time,” Jeongguk says and Hoseok grins with an excited nod of his head. 

“You knew?” you ask the two of them before it dawns on you. You slowly turn to glare at the tall male who hasn’t spoken. 

“I DIDN’T TELL THEM!” Taehyung yells at you, offended that you would even assume such a thing. 

“Wait...you knew?!” Jimin suddenly asks, looking at his fellow 95 liner, who gulps. 

“Well...yeah,” Taehyung answers and he immediately puts his hands up at Jimin’s glare. “Oh c’mon! She trusted me. I wasn’t about to go tell you that she had a crush on you!!” 

You grin and latch onto Taehyung’s arm. “Thanks TaeTae. I knew you were my best friend!” 

Jimin’s glare extends to you and you laugh. “That’s my best friend, woman,” 

“Hell no,” you shoot back and stick out your tongue. “You don’t deserve such a handsome best friend,” 

Taehyung nods appreciatively and high fives you but Namjoon smirks. 

“No matter how close you and Taehyung are you’ll never be as close as you and Jimin, (Name),” he comments before making smooching noises. Taehyung and Hoseok chortle and Yoongi’s smirk rivals Namjoon’s. You groan in embarrassment and sneak a peek at your lover, but he is only smiling with a shake of his head. His hand squeezes yours and you grin giddily. You suddenly hear footsteps and see Seokjin walking out of the bathroom. 

“Oh, (Name)? I thought you left? Did you forget something?” he asks, and when you all say nothing, he raises a brow. “What’d I miss?” 

The six of you blink and then Jeongguk utters a “Hyung how do you always miss the important stuff?” 

Namjoon and Hoseok crack up and you giggle as you watch Jeongguk dramatically recount the tale to an astonished Seokjin. You feel a nudge from your left and look to see Jimin grinning down at you. For a moment, his smile is so clearly the one you remember and it makes you feel a good kind of nostalgia. The Jimin you once knew wasn’t really gone. In fact the Jimin that you see next to you had grown from a cute boy to a loving man who had captured your heart once again. 

Whether he was four years old, eight years old, sixteen years old, or twenty years old, Jimin had your heart. And that would never change.

.

.

.

.

a/n: so maybe i just wanted some drama and angst. but I hope you guys liked it!!

[notoriously-blonde]

Inspired by @gale-of-the-nomads Forgotten Bug AU, I present you all with...(Keep in mind, please, this is unbeta-d, and unedited, so i’m sorry in advance for any typos, i just wanted to get these thoughts out before i went to sleep! I am planning on this being a few chapters long at least, so stay tuned! I’ll get an AO3 link up soon, once i get it beta-d and all that.) 

At The Tip Of The Tongue

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Master Fu, Nino Lahiffe, Alya Cesaire, Chloe Bourseois, Miracu-class, Gabriel Agreste, Emilie Agreste, The Gorrila, Plagg, Wayzz, Duusuu, Trix, Pollen, Nooroo, other Kwami.

Tags: Forgotten Bug AU, Gabriel doesn’t have the butterfly, Emilie doesn’t have the Peakcock, Marinette | Ladybug isn’t really a character, no memories, conflicting memories, Fu is actually competent, Adrien will be/is Guardian, Black Cat/Turtle miraculous fusion, Gorilla has a name, some retconned ideas, original origins, more to be added as the story continues

2,341 words

Chapters: 1/?

Summary:

Adrien hasn’t been able to get her out of his head.

He has no idea who she is, or why he remembers her.

Why he can’t find her.

Or why no one else can.

All he knows is, this girl he remembers is important.

And he needs to find her.

Chapter 1: The Edge of Awareness (Origins, Part 1)

Adrien’s dreams have been weird lately. Or, well, he can’t remember the last time he dreamt of anything other than what his dreams have been lately.

All he dreams of is a girl.

He dreams of what she does. Making banners, being class representative, winning a fashion contest with a feather based derby hat, making wonderful sweets for everyone, being a friend to everyone.

This girl, she wears tan flats; pink capris-jeans; a white top with a floral pattern on the front, top, right quadrant; a grey blazer; and a pink bag at her side. She has hair as black as night and it reflects the light in such a way that it appears to have raven blue highlights, she usually has her hair pulled into pigtails. Her eyes are a wonderful bluebell color, and her face is mapped by freckles.

He dreams of the clothes she would sketch in her sketchbook, the absolute pieces of art that could rival the designs of his Father. He dreams of the dedication she put into her designs.

He dreams of the way she’d interact with classmates, with care, compassion, love, determination, and bravery. And he dreams of how she’d become shy, nervous, and tongue tied when talking to him specifically.

He doesn’t understand this. For as long as he can remember, he’s always dream of her. He’d call her ‘princess’ and ‘my lady’, and he’d talk to Mother and Father about her. He could have sworn she was real!

But then, Mother would smile warmly, and act like she was paying attention to what he was telling her about his princess. Father... was less kind about it. He always came to them with barely contained joy and laughter, eager to relay her accomplishments, but he always found himself leaving their company feeling like he was a burden. But they let him keep talking about her.

At least... they did until he was 10, when they both told him, quite sternly, that she isn’t real, that she’s his imaginary friend, and that he’s too old to have an imaginary friend.

They’d tell him that whenever he had dreams about her.

They seemed to mad when he talked to them about her.

So, he stopped. Not because the dreams stopped, they never stopped, but because he realized that they didn’t want to hear it.

So, he kept the dreams to himself.

These dreams confuse him. Because they seem so real, they feel like they could be memories, but... when he wakes up, reality sets him straight.

The derby hat that he saw her create in his dreams, it’s the hat that Chloe (paid someone to make) made and won the fashion contest that Father had put up. It was a truly fabulous hat, but Chloé didn’t make it, It cheapened the experience for everyone else. Honestly, Juleka’s hat would have won if Chloe hadn’t pulled a... Chloe.

The banner that he saw his lady create in his dream, it was the banner that Nathaniel made for Alix and Kim’s race.

It always felt as though something was wrong in the universe, like some big part was torn from it. From him.

But he knew that this girl in his dreams, she’s just a figment of his imagination.

At least, that’s what he knew up until 3 years ago.

It all started when Adrien was 14, sitting in the park, looking at the school that he sees everyone else going to.

——————

“Adrien, honey!” Adrien turns to the voice of his Mother, his face brightening up immediately.

Mother never failed to bring a smile to his face. Almost never, only managing to do so when he brought up the Dream Girl. She was smiling at him, the skin crinkling around her forest green eyes. Her golden hair pulled into a braid, resting on her right shoulder. She’s wearing a nice looking summer dress, black with green seems.

“Adrien, what are you looking at?” She calls again, breaking him out of his reverie. Adriens glances back at the school, watching as kids his age, older and younger file Out, talking and laughing, hugging and shoving. All of them, friends. He shakes his head and turns back to his mother.

“Nothing, Mother, just a little spaced out is all!” He lies, looking back at her.

She smiles a warm smile, and goes back to looking at her phone. Most likely looking for a movie opening, or looking up the latest fashion trends.

Adriens shifts his gaze and meets the grey eyes of the family body guard/chauffeur, Gerald, a man standing at least 188 centimeters tall, with shoulders that are at least 25 centimeters wide on each side, his arms hanging further down below his hips than the arms of most other people. He has a ton of muscle hidden beneath the patented *Agreste* business suit, and his face is as stoic as his voice is silent. Which is to say, he barely shows much emotion, since he doesn’t speak.

Honestly, Adrien can’t help but think of a gorilla when he sees the body guard. He will never, ever admit that to anyone, ever. He only has the nickname in his phone, and no one checks his phone.

...he thinks...

His eyes meet the stone grey eyes of the Gorr- Gerald, and he quickly sifts his gaze away. Something about seeing his eyes makes Adrien’s skin crawl. He looks at Adrien as if he knows something he doesn’t. A sad secret he can’t tell him.

Adrien looks to the school again.

Oh, how he wishes he could be in school like everyone else. Learning with kids his age, laughing, socializing, being a *kid* instead of a teen model, “Paris’s teen heartthrob”, a supermodel, the face of the industry (as Father has always put it).

But no, he’s got hundreds, if not thousands of fans, fans who aren’t above stalking (as they have come to know. Many times), so he’s been forced into homeschooling. Apparently, they couldn’t think that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t want to be a model at 14 years old?

...but parents always know what’s best for their kids, right?

Suddenly, a man falls down in the crowd of kids on skateboards, rollerskates, running; his pained cry going unnoticed, or ignored by all the others.

Without a second’s thought, he’s sprinting from the park and reaches the school’s grounds within seconds (for today, and today only, he’s thankful for the exercise regime Father has him keep up for modeling) and searches for the man.

He finds him, wearing a bright red , button up t-shirt with yellow flowers, and cargo shorts. His cane is laying over a meter away, out of reach of the old man, who is cradling his ankle.

Adrien jogs over, and scoops up the cane before giving it back to the man, and holding out his arm for him to grab onto if he needs more assistance in getting up.

The man struggles for a moment using just his cane before he grabs onto Adrien’s forearm and, together, they hoist the man back to his feet.

Once he’s on his feet, the brightly dressed man gives Adrien a nod and a “thank you” before taking a shaking step forward.

Right before Adrien’s eyes, as if I’m slow motion, the old man’s ankle buckles, and he starts to fall. Adrien instinctively reaches out and grabs his arm, pulling him back to his feet. The old man stares at Adrien for a moment, before thanking him again and attempting to walk off once more.

“Sir, I hope I’m not coming off as rude, but, you fell just now when you put weight on your ankle, even with your cane. Please, let me help you find somewhere to sit and we can check it out?” Adrien responds, eyes pleading.

The man’s eyes are full of caution and curiosity as he hesitantly agrees. And slowly, so as to not strain his ankle even more, they find a bench for them both to sit down on.

Once the man is seated, Adrien moves to inspect the man’s ankle, but the old man stops him with a hand to his shoulder. “There is no need for that, young man,” he laughs, eyes crinkling. “I assure you, I am not injured. I just had a moment of senior citizen faulty joint!” The man chuckles once more, as if he finds something funny in this statement. “Thank you, young one. May I get your name?”

This shocks Adrien. Someone who... doesn’t know his name? “I- yeah, my name’s A-“ Adrien’s vivid is cut off as Mother abruptly calls out to him.

“Adrien! You’re Father wants to discuss something important with me, we need to head back home, now!” Her voice carries with it no sense of anger, nothing malicious, but it carries with it a sense that there will be no arguing.

“Of course, Mother, be right there!” Adrien calls back. “Stay safe!” He tells this mysterious man, as he sprints back to the park.

Once back in the silver sedan, Adrien furrows his brow. For a second, he could she sworn he heard the man say “Thank you, Adrien, you’re perfect for him.”

But no, that’s too weird a thing for anyone to say. It must be a figment if his imagination. Just like Princess.

This doesn’t persuade him.

———

Adrien flops down on his bed, sighing loudly.

Another dinner spent mostly alone. Mother and Father had promised to be there, but Father got stuck designing, and their conversation went ok for longer than they had anticipated, making Mother 30 minutes late to eating dinner.

At least he didn’t spend it mostly alone. He doesn’t know what he would do if he were to eat dinner alone. He can’t even imagine it.

After a second, he flips over and stares at his ceiling.

Why does Father care more about work than he does him? Mother? Why are they always second place to his work?

Adrien doesn’t even care about the burning sensation in his eyes anymore. It’s been a nightly occurrence since Mother stopped tucking him into bed 5 years ago.

She may not have cared much for Princess, the Dream Girl, but she always shared his hopes of going to school. Of socializing with other kids. But... Father is paranoid. Always looking out for ways in which Adrien could get hurt. That’s why Adrien is homeschooled. Why he has a bodyguard. Why he isn’t allowed outside without supervision. Why he only has one friend. (Chloé, the mayor’s daughter. She wasn’t always the mayors daughter, that was only a recent occurrence, about 4 years ago)

It’s just so... stifling. He... all Adrien wants is to go outside, explore, socialize, be *normal* for once.

But... Father will never allow it, no matter whether Mother agrees or not.

He turns to his side, starting to curl up, but something catches his attention.

Hesitantly, he turns to the windows that lead to a small balcony. On one is a piece of paper.

Furrowing his brow and cocking his head, he slips from his bed and over to the window, curiousity mounting with every step. Once he gets to it, he cocks his head even further.

“I require your assistance, young man. You do not know me, but I do know you. Please, if you will, open this gift and come speak with me once you learn of the instructions. We have much to talk about”

On the note, right below the words, there is an arrow, pointing downward. Following it, he finds an ornately decorated box. There are red symbols on it that look like they are an ancient Chinese or Japanese.

Warily, he opens the window and grabs the box. He brings it and the note inside and closes the window. There’s no reason to leave it open for more than 5 seconds and trip Father’s alarms.

He sets the note and box down on his offer table and sits down in the sofa, giving the note a critical eye.

After a moment, Adrien turns his gaze to the box. The second he locks his eyes on it, it seems to pulse with energy, and a wave of adrenaline pulses through Adrien, heightening his sense of smell, sight, hearing for a brief second before he returns to normal human functionality.

Adrien shakes his body, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the box. He’s struggling to keep his arms from moving, (when had he started reaching for the box!) it’s as if the box is a magnet, and he’s a piece of iron.

He struggles to keep his curiosity down too, because something amazing is contained within this box, something no one has seen before, he can feel it. But, someone left this on his balcony, he can’t just open it, right?

Right?

Yeah, no, it’s like Father always told him. “Gifts are only ways to bribe your affection and attention. They mean nothing. They will be your downfall”

This is a gift, it will be his downfall.

But... Mother always went behind Father’s back to get him gifts. Like his favorite, blue scarf, soft as silk.

And even the Gorilla got him gifts.

So... maybe Father is wrong?

And if Father is wrong, then he can open this gift!

Moving with the speed of a starving man who had just laid his eyes on the most appetizing meal in the best restaurant, his hands dart to grab the box and open it.

...At least he lasted 10 seconds.

And before he knows it, the box is opened and there is a bright green ball of energy right in his face.

[ohtheseboysilove]

Wandering souls !Prologue! [ Roger Taylor x F!Reader ]

Words : 1,700 K +

Warnings : language, angst, broken heart, roger’s being a dick,

Summary : Soulmate!AU. Reader and Roger are soulmates. Reader is happy to finally find her other half. Roger don’t believe in these bullshits and don’t accepted her . But they quickly understand that they have no choice but to be around each other. . How reader is suppose to be happy with someone who don’t want anything to do with her ?

Note : I’m such a sucker for Soulmated!AU fanfic !! If you got any good ones about Queen and Borhap, please send the links to me ! Anyway so here is my new baby, probably a series with a lot of angst and drama on the menu, Roger is having too much fun for stop it for just one girl and Reader, who didn’t ask anything, find herself attracted to someone who don’t want anything to do with her. Yup, love definitively sucks.

Masterlist & Requests

@/ none of these gifs are mine xx

Roger Taylor always found this concept of soulmate unhealthy and absolutely unfair. He wished to never meet his. He loved his life the way it was, with different girls every night and endless fun in tours. A soulmate would just tied him up to someone and that was the last thing he wanted : to be dependant of a complete stranger only because the fucking universe decided they were the perfect match for each other, ever.

No one had a rational or scientific explanation about how soulmates worked, it was different for each couple. For some people it was love at first sight, they saw each other and nothing else mattered, that was for the lucky ones. For some other, they would definitively felt the inexplicable bond between them, stronger than with anyone else but needed time as they were still strangers. There were no rule, no manual to explain how it worked. You were connected to another person and each soulmates had a different level of connection with one other, a unique link between two peoples.

Roger thought it was boring and maybe a bit scary, he liked to make his own choices but that was something where he couldn’t have any control on it. What if he didn’t like his supposedly other half ?

Of course you will, even if take time, in the end, they will be the one.

That what this smartass of Brian May had answer to his interrogations. Brian was a bit obsess with this concept, he was an endless romantic and dreamt to meet his soulmate and live happily ever after. Bullshit.

One of Roger’s friend from school started sharing dreams with his soulmate when he met her, even during sleep they were connected. It, in all honestly, scared the shit out Roger, his friend told him it was fabulous, but for the drummer only fucking weirdo could enjoy that.

And there so many other stupid things that soulmates could shared with each other, it was completely ridiculous for Rog, this stranger person suddenly invading your life because it was supposed to be like this ? Not really the cup of tea of the hothead drummer.

You, on the other hand, it was something you found amazing. Thinking that somewhere in the world, was a person destined to you and only you was magic...and reassuring. You were shy and rather reserved person, a little bit to sensitive with your head always buried into your drawing book and your fingers busied with charcoals or paint brushes. Your mind were wandering somewhere else most of the time. Finding your soulmate would be such a relief, no more awkward dates with boys which in the end were assholes or just not for you. And you could refuse an perfect and eternal love ? Certainly not you.

So when the day of the encounter with your soulmate was finally here, after twenty-two years old of living on the planet heart, saying that you were excited was an understatement. You were thrilled and incredibly nervous. What if he or she didn’t like you ? Found you boring or ugly ? Not everyone ended up with his soulmate, you could still make the choice to not be involve with your other half but it was pretty rare and not a very pleasant life, something always missing deep inside you. All you wanted was to be happy and if this person was supposed to contribute to your happiness, you would accept it without any prejudice. Your eyes were watching with an adoring smile the tiny heart on your wrist glowing redder at every seconds, meaning your soulmate was close, probably in the same pub.

You couldn’t wait to meet your other half.

Roger, well, it was another story. He had finish a gig in a shitty pub and ended up in this one, more popular and younger when he saw his own heart inked on his wrist, which was usually empty of all colours, starting to change until it became almost full with deep red, he knew what that meant and he was pissed off.

“Hell, no !” He groaned annoyingly. His eyes were glued to his skin, feeling completely useless, he couldn’t stop the inevitable to happen. “Fucking stupid universe”

His friends and bandmates sitting around him glanced toward his direction to see what was annoying their drummer.

“Holy shit Rog !” Brian’s eyes were wide open, he wouldn’t have thought about Roger to be the second to find his soulmate, he had hope he would be himself as the first was John. People who weren’t totally opposed at the idea, not like him. “Is this really happening ?”

“Nothing it’s happening, forget about it” Mumbled the blond as he hid the shape under his white sleeve, head bended above his beer. He wouldn’t take any risk to share a glance with his supposed soulmate and ruined his life. “I’m gonna stay here until the colour left then I will be safe”

“You’re fucking ridiculous Roger” John rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You can’t avoid your meeting, it gonna happening anyway”

“Deaky is right darling, stop this nonsense and let look for your little lady...or man” Freddie winked at the drummer and stood up. “Come on”

“I am not moving from here Fred and you’re gonna do the same. Sit back” The blond tugged at his forearm but the singer purely and simply ignored him.

Freddie wandering around the pub, looking at everyone’s wrist more or less discretely. He was looking for a red heart without any writing in it. The initial of your soulmate appeared once you had meet him. It wasn’t really his place to do that, against his friend’s wishes but he believed in love and knew that he was doing the right thing for his friend, he would thanks him later.

“Oh darling, you’re perfect !” You turned your head quickly when someone grabbed your hand, staring amusingly at your heart tattoo. You knew he wasn’t your soulmate, you could feel it. “I have someone to introduce you”

“Do you know my soulmate ?” You asked shyly, his big and gentle eyes observing every inch of your face. He was intimidating but seemed rather nice.

“I do, honey. He is one of my best friend and a really nice chap, when he want to of course, he can be a pain in the ass sometime” You chuckled lightly, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you heartbeat was increasing in your chest. “Would you come with me and meet him ?”

You pinched your lips and glanced at your two friends who were wearing wide smiles on their faces, giving you thumbs up. You took a deep breath and nodded to the man, giving him a small smile. You were so nervous but followed him in the crowd anyway. The dark-haired man stopped in front of a booth where three men and two women where seated, you discretely wiped the sweat from your hands on your skirt and waited.

“Roger, I found her” The singer was exalting as he grabbed his friend’ shoulder, giving you the hint about which one was your soulmate but it was useless, you knew it was him. “Don’t be rude and say hi, you wanker”

You could only see his messy long blond locks as his head was still half hiding by his position, mumbling not very nice words to his friend. He finally raised his head and his gaze, two deep blue eyes locked with yours. He was incredibly beautiful, longs eyelashes and harmonious face, you found yourself very lucky. The second after your little checking out you felt like a violent electric currant flying through your body, fireworks exploding in your stomach, way more powerful than the butterflies you get when the cute barman offered you a drink few hours before. It was him without a doubt, you could feel yourself already craving for a contact, wondering how smooth could be his hand in yours.

The blond frowned when he looked at you, blinked multiple times seeming a bit shocked then brutally stood up.

“I’m sorry that my friend make you waste your time sweetheart” He grabbed the hand of the girl who was sitting next to him in the booth and smirked at you. “I don’t do this whole stupid soulmate stuff, I think it rather dull so...if you will excuse me, we had make some plan for the night” He winked at you and you watched him disappeared in the crowd, the leggy brunette clinging on him.

You swallowed quietly, eyes watering as the feeling of dejection replacing the excited one in your frame. A wave of sadness washed over you, shoulders drooping heavily at the realisation of what just happened.

“Darling, I am so sorry but don’t listen to this fucker, he will come around eventually” The singer gave you a sad smile and you could feel every gaze from the booth on you, awkwardly silent at Roger’s words.

“It’s fine” You chocked out pathetically and looked at your tattoo, the heart wasn’t red anymore, it was grey, matching your heart broken. You had imagine a million time the moment, finally meeting your soulmate but that...was obviously the worst scenario case. “I...I had to go, thank for...trying” You sniffled discretely as you felt a tear escaped your glassy eyes, it was your cue to leave.

“Wait !” The dark-haired man grabbed a note pad and a pen from his back pocket and gave it to you. “Your number darling, he is gonna need it one day or another”

“I don’t think so...he made it very clear” The loud music, the smoke and the crowned place was giving you anxiety and mixed the after shock of your rejection, it was almost unbearable. You just wanted to go home and forget about this stupid night.

“Please, Roger is stubborn as a mule but he will understand his mistake. London is a big city, if you left now we won’t be able to find you again” He smiled gently and slid the pen between your fingers.

“Okay” You wrote your number with your name next to it and put back the note pad in the man’s hands. “Goodbye”

You quickly walked to the exit, the shame and sadness drowning you to the ground. You weren’t sure if you would see your soulmate ever again. Or if you even wanted to.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 65

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS: Jamie and Claire reconnect after some time apart and let their feelings surface.

THANK YOU all for reading/liking the last chapter of this story and a big THANK YOU for taking the time to leave a comment about what you had read. I do so enjoy reading your remarks. Previous chapters can be found at ...https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

*N.B. Warning … This chapter is somewhat explicit.

 CHAPTER 65 (NSFW)

“Forget dinner Sassenach ... I’d rather take a bite out of ye mo nighean donn,”he whispered seductively in her ear.

Jamie's words made Claire’s senses reel at the very thoughts that they awakened in her mind. His words thrilled her and there was nothing more that she wanted than to be in his arms once more.  His passionate assault to her senses was unravelling her nerves and she would have collapsed had he not held her. Jamie’s hands flexed slightly on her arms and she felt his warm breath as he tenderly uttered evocative words against her ear like the fluttering of butterfly wings.

"I want ye Claire."

Turning her around in his arms James Fraser’s piercing gaze stabbed her in the heart. His need for her was written all over his face and was especially evident in his mesmerizing blue eyes.  Lazily his fingers caressed her skin in renewal and every slide across her heated body made Claire shiver in anticipation of what would be. She couldn’t think straight when Jamie touched her like this; all she could do was feel how much his touch made her senses come alive. As his hands roamed leisurely under her top, his touch ignited spot fires of desire wherever his fingers roamed and she surrendered easily with little resistance.  

Winding her arms around Jamie’s neck Claire rested her head against his chest before raising her eyes to scan his face.  He pulled her away from the hot stove and smiling walked backwards never taking his eyes from her face.  His eyes were sparkling with mischief while his smile was an infectious grin and in no time, Claire felt the edge of the table pressing into the back of her thighs. Searching Jamie's expression, she found the answers his eyes were conveying. Her sanity was in danger for she knew there was no turning back and that her capitulation was inevitable, but she really didn’t care.

His honeyed voice was but a guttural whisper but the emotion in his words sent a thrill shooting through her body. Easing her up to sit on the table, Jamie spread her knees and moved between them repeating his plea again.  

"I want ye Sass-en-ach."

Claire moaned for his words sparked a thundering in her veins that had her heart beating so fast she thought it could jump right out of her chest. His palms slid onto her cheeks and held her head still; feathering kisses over her brow, nose and lips as if he was savouring her for the very first time. Leaning toward her Jamie's teeth gently nipped at her sensitive neck then he ran his hot tongue over the reddening mark to soothe her skin.

"Cl-aire," he sighed into her neck.

She reached her hands out and roughly pulled him closer. Growling low in his throat Jamie bit her neck more forcibly this time leaving red welts down the column of Claire’s throat that would surely cause a bruise in the morning.

"Oh, God! How I want ye."

Claire squeezed Jamie’s hips between her thighs pleasure coursing up from her reaction to his admission of desire. She could feel his erection growing harder as he rocked his hips against her in need, which only intensified the growing ache she felt pooling in her groin. Quivering with a desire that was escalating, Claire fisted her hands in Jamie's hair and arched against him in wanton lust.  A hoarse gasp escaped from between her lips as she felt his hot mouth tug at her hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her top.  

Pulling the material away, Jamie exposed one breast to his gaze and nearly ripped the fabric in his haste to taste his Sassenach’s skin. Covering her nipple with his mouth his hand held her breast as he peppered kisses to her bosom.

“Does it ever stop, the wanting you?” He slurred against her breast.

“Not for me it doesn’t,” Claire murmured breathlessly in reply.

Thinking she would expire if Jamie didn’t consummate their reunion soon, Claire arched her body against his in desperate need.  He suckled at her breast repeatedly, wetting her skin and the material of her top with his mouth, then breathing a puff of warm air over the damp fabric, he flicked her nipples.  The erotic sensation made her push her hips against him and when he repeated his actions to her neglected breast, she thought she would faint with pleasure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

However, Claire whimpered when Jamie’s mouth left her chest. Bereft of his touch, she struggled to get closer to his warm, hard body that she took the initiative. Raising her head, she sought to capture his full lips but Jamie dodged the kiss although his eyes were dark with the passion he felt for his woman.  They were smouldering with a feverish longing that only Claire could fulfil.

She was his everything but he could see that she was crushed that he hadn’t let her kiss him. Claire looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes that she may have been rejected from taking the initiative, but that was the furthest thing from his mind. He absolutely loved that his Sassenach had wanted to exert her power over him and be the aggressor for he was very much under her spell and happy to be there.  She really didn’t know how much she really was the one in control of his feelings. He had never felt this way about any woman until Claire.  She was the only one who held his heart, the only one who really understood him, and the only one to have opened up the floodgates of sublime shared ecstasy. Without Claire he was not whole. He was just a man going through the motions of life like a rudderless boat before she had been recruited to Section One.  Now, he could not visualise his life without her. If he lost her, he would wither and die for life would not be worth living.  He would step in front of a bullet and end it all.  

Jamie had foiled her attempt at seduction because he needed to know just what her needs were before they continued. "What do ye want, Claire?" He asked throatily anticipating her reply as his hands kneaded her hips.

“You ...”

Claire now understood why Jamie had refused her initiative. Her eyes were dreamy with corresponding darkened pupils as her eyes caressed his face. She bit her lip provocatively and reaching out for him, crept her hands suggestively up Jamie’s muscular chest and began unfastening the buttons of his shirt.  Her fingers shook in her rush to have the material gone so that she could feel the heat of his naked skin to her touch.  Jamie covered her hands with his own and pressed them against his chest where his heart was beating fast. Their eyes locked and her breathless reply was barely audible.

Her answer cut him to the quick.  He wanted her so badly that he sensually moved with her compelling Claire to rotate her hips against his hardened cock.  Wanting her to capitulate fully, he repeated his question with more emphasis.

“What do ye really want Sass-en-ach?”

Claire groaned and the sound reverberating in the kitchen was music to Jamie’s ears. In desperate need and dizzy with desire she kissed him defiantly where his pulse beat in the hollow of his throat and yanked his shirt down until it tangled up on his elbows with frenzied hands. Her need for this wonderful man was so acute she was wild for Jamie to make love to her on the kitchen table knowing that they wouldn’t be able to make it to the bedroom before she surrendered to him totally.

"I … want ... you James Fraser," she sighed biting him along his collarbone. Jamie loved her declaration of passion and Claire felt his own guttural growl vibrating through his chest.

"I want you in me …"  

She scraped her teeth down his pectoral muscle and flicked a tongue over his flat nipple all the while returning to his gaze and capturing his look with a yearning thirst for him blazing from her eyes. Claire sensually licked her lips as she felt her body succumb to a plethora of feelings that only her love could tame. She had dreamt about their reconnection and now that he was here, she just wanted them to make love.

"… On this table."

Jamie too couldn’t wait to burn in the heat of her desire.  His woman was a spitfire ... a wanton she-devil and she had bewitched him until he was totally under her spell.  Claire’s eyes were smouldering with a hunger and a challenge he could not refuse.  

"I want you now, Jamie."

His shirt floated to the floor. Then without severing her gaze her hands dropped from his ribbed abdomen to the waist of his pants.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ignoring her entreaty to remove his jeans, Jamie’s dexterous hands took the hem of Claire’s top instead and began sliding it up her smooth stomach with excruciating slowness. In doing so his hands left little trails of sensation where his fingers touched her warm skin as he lifted her top from her body. It was as if she had been struck by a lightning rod, for her whole body was electrified. She was burning up in a fever that had her squirming in wanton pain for the pleasure she knew was forthcoming.

"Lift yer arms mo nighean donn," Jamie purred as he pulled the cotton top up and off, revealing both her beautiful breasts to his gaze. He could not stop himself from nipping her exposed luminous skin like a man on a mission. His Claire was so beautiful and he had missed her so.  He needed her with every breath in his body and where his lips and teeth marked her skin, she writhed against him in sheer elation to be reconnected with her man.

Rocking forward, she clutched at Jamie’s shoulders, rubbing her breasts over his naked upper body so that he could feel just how aroused she was for him.  The feel of her pebbled nipples against his chest was so sensual that his breath hitched in his throat.  His hands cupped the side of her breasts and fingers kneaded her flesh in reverence while his eyes devoured her in awe.  Claire drank in Jamie’s rapt expression as it travelled from her flushed face and settled on her naked chest.  Licking his lips, he lowered his head as his hot mouth peppered each sensitized breast with teasing kisses. His tongue flicked Claire’s taut nipple with several quick licks before he lathed over the arch of her womanly curves. Claire thought she would expire with feelings so strong that she could not deny how Jamie was making her feel.  

She hugged her love tight and shuddered with unbridled passion as his onslaught sought other erogenous areas on her body. At the same time, Claire's hands caressed the curve of his back, tracing the shape of the steel, hard muscles of his torso as she dug her fingers into his flesh. The feel of Jamie’s naked body against hers made her tremble with emotions she could not control. When his hands reached her thighs, he tilted her toward him.

"Put yer arms around ma neck," he said as his hands skimmed over her hips lowering her jeans until they fell down her legs to pool on the floor.  Jamie then lifted her body, leaned forward and set Claire back on the cool table with a consuming kiss.

Sitting there in just her underwear she was a little self-conscious and covered her breasts with her arms.  Tenderly, Jamie took one of her hands and placed it to his mouth kissing her knuckles while his eyes devoured her.

“Claire Beauchamp … ye are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Claire smiled overjoyed at his words and reached out her hands towards him resting them on Jamie’s lean waist. With bravado she soon began to fumble with the snap on his pants eager to have him in the same state of undress as she was. When she began tugging them down his hips Jamie came to her help.  He smiled at her and taking her hands away from his jeans uttered, “Dinna fash Sassenach, I’ll take care of that ye ken,” as he took over divesting himself of his pants.

Through half-lidded eyes Claire scanned his magnificent, sculptured body as Jamie quickly undressed. He didn’t take his eyes off of her for one moment.  His Sassenach looked like a provocative, sensual, sexy siren leaning back on her elbows as she watched him shed his clothing. Claire Beauchamp was a danger to his equilibrium. He had known that she was his weakness for some time now and she threatened every Section One ideal that he had lived by for the past several years. She constantly enthralled and surprised him and the more he knew her the more he wanted her. If he could convince himself that what he was feeling was more than just infatuation and lust, he could only surmise that his feelings for Claire were real and that he was indeed deeply in love with her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once his naked body was revealed, Jamie reached out and tugged Claire's hips to the edge of the table. He gripped her hands and placed them over her head, then leaning in to her, his lips trailed hot kisses to her lips, down her throat and chest then across her stomach until he reached the spot where he knew she was burning for his touch. The sensation of Jamie’s fingers rubbing against her was torturous and stirred feelings of hunger for more than just his touch.  Slipping his fingers under the elastic of her underwear he pulled it taut against her wetness, then dipping his head until Claire could feel his warm lips, Jamie stroked then kissed her throbbing mound. Her body bucked up in pleasure as her throat issued a plainful, guttural moan as if she was in agony.

"Take them off," she cried out in a throaty plea, growing wild-eyed with a need that could no longer be denied.

Kneeling in front of her, he did just that. Jamie slid his fingers under her silk panties to touch the damp curls between her legs like he’d done when she was standing at the stove. Claire’s voice hitched in her throat as another moan threatened to escape from her lips particularly when one seeking finger teased and fondled her gently. As he removed the scrap of material down her legs, Jamie dotted hot kisses to Claire’s skin as the silk slithered from her limbs until there was naught between them but an eagerness to consummate and the heat of desire.  

Overcome with emotion, Claire locked her thighs around his neck and lay back on the table, the small of her back arching upwards. With one hand kneading her breast, Jamie parted her folds and delved inside. His tongue suckled and lapped at her alternating his stroking with hard jabs and soft licks.  Her jaw locked and a scream gurgled in her throat and when his teeth closed briefly over her clitoris, the heightened sensation sent Claire into uncontrolled spasms. Her breathing was non-existent for she was breathless and overcome with the sensation of Jamie’s foreplay.  Writhing in an irrepressible bliss, his lovemaking nearly brought her to the brink of capitulation.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jamie’s thumbs rubbed circles on the sensitive skin at the back of her thighs as Claire gyrated wildly against his seeking mouth. His tongue was doing wildly erotic things and she could not hold in her pleasure any longer. She arched her back on the table breathing heavily with ecstasy as Jamie's tongue continued to stroke within her depths.   The delicious tactile consciousness of her love’s devotion to pleasuring her ricocheted through Claire’s body as she thrashed about in a state of euphoria and sweet madness. She was overcome with an extraordinary outer body experience because of the way he was making her feel.  Opening her glazed eyes for just a moment, her gaze collided with Jamie’s penetrating stare as her hand gripped his head holding his curls tightly with her fingers.

"Ja-mie!” She gasped, her voice cracking with a desire so profound that Claire was nearing the bliss of Nirvana.  

Pressing a kiss to each of her inner thighs he stood up and leaned over her placing his hands on either side of her body.  He was as aroused as Claire and she could feel the evidence of his erection rubbing against her.

"Take me...," she pleaded, panting with breathlessness.

The look Jamie gave her scorched her soul and she gasped for breath when he smiled down on her, eyes darkened with hunger. Then he kissed her passionately.

“Mo ghràidh,” he murmured breathlessly.

Tasting herself on his lips, pushed her over the edge into wildness. Claire clutched at Jamie’s shoulders and hauled herself up peering into his eyes in aching want. “... Do it now and don’t be gentle.”

Edging closer, he rubbed the head of his penis against her then holding Claire tightly he plunged into her with one forceful thrust penetrating her to the full. Glazed eyes imprisoned his at the very instant she felt Jamie’s fullness surround her. Clenching her teeth, Claire moaned when his hands locked her hips to the table and when he began to move, she was ready to scream from the sublime pleasure of their connectedness. He  drew back almost sliding out of her but Claire half rose from the kitchen table, lifted her hips and dragged him back to her.

"Hard, Jamie," she ordered, biting his earlobe fiercely.

Claire laughed with wild pleasure as he thrust into her harder then deeper.  He began stroking into her again, and again, and again, moving his hips in a rhythm that she matched in tandem. With each thrust, their lovemaking became more frenetic. Claire bit at Jamie’s jaw and felt his stubble rub against her lips. The sensation was so erotic that she bit him once more when he groaned in response. She nipped at his neck with her tongue and teeth, abrading his skin with red welts of passion. Jamie pounded into her relentlessly, but it wasn't enough. Claire wound her arms around his waist and cupped his buttocks while her fingers dug into his flesh as the sensation of their joining took her to another level of pleasure.  Grinding into his thrusts, rasping moans sprang from her throat.

“Give me yer mouth, Sassenach.”                      

Claire kissed him with abandon before locking her legs around his torso digging her heels into his flexing backside in her need to have a deeper joining. Jamie kissed her back with as much force until her lips were somewhat bruised from his onslaught. His Sassenach looked like a wanton nymph with her brunette tresses fanned out on the table around her beautiful face radiating with pleasure and Jamie was captivated by her beauty.  Without breaking their intimate connection, he ran his hands down her lithe legs and then drew her calves up to rest on his shoulders. Claire gasped as the new position allowed him to slide even farther inside her and she flashed Jamie a satiated smile of happiness.

“Now I know why the church calls it a sacrament,” he uttered gazing into her eyes with a passion that could not be denied.

Equally passionate eyes returned his intense gaze. “Why?”

“Because I feel like God himself when I'm inside ye.”

James Fraser was adorable and his words although profound made her laugh.

This was a man who was a killing machine for Section One and ultimately gave the perception as an operative that had no feelings given his cold as steel and indifferent demeanour.  However, with her he had let his guard down and it was this vulnerability with her that was so endearing. She just wanted to hold him close and love him and show him that he was the most important man in her life. 

His eyes watched her intently and seeing that his Claire was laughing took him back a little.  “What? Is that a foolish thing to say? You're laughing at me.”

“Yes, I most certainly am.”

However, Jamie could see it in Claire eyes that she was delighted by his vulnerable statement and knew that she was not really laughing at him but was encouraging him to do more of the same.  Making love with his Claire was a spiritual experience for both of them and he was overjoyed by her reaction to his declaration. With a wickedly sinister retort he replied, “And you'll get what you deserve.”

He ground into her with force, and Claire splayed her arms grasping the edge of the table. Anchoring her hips, Jamie pulled her against him as he thrust into her yet again, then increasing the tempo, he held her tightly against him as he brought them both to the edge of capitulation. James Fraser claimed his Sassenach over and over again in a wild pulsing rhythm of total possession until he felt the swelling need for her release.  Everything in her body arched toward him, toward his straining muscles and opening her eyes she gazed at Jamie’s face, framed by sweat-dampened curls of hair. Claire locked eyes with her love as he brought her up and over the edge plunging her into the thunderous abyss and into an ecstatic scream of release.  A kaleidoscope of lights filtered through her brain as she climaxed repeatedly, while her body shuddered with the ecstatic pleasure of their joining.

Despite the somewhat hard surface of the table, lovemaking with Jamie had never been so explosive and Claire was spent in a puddle of euphoric bliss.  However, when her body ceased its shuddering contractions, she incredulously realized that her love was still hard inside her. Incredibly, Jamie had held back his own release.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued