#side note but IDK if the author intended it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rapturously · 1 year ago

Note

Idk exactly what to ask for, but I have an ✨idea✨

Dwayne who seemingly has a penchant for choking his SO. He just loves the little whimpers and moans they make, and the way they squirm.

Really basic, ik 💀. You can take this and run, or simply enjoy this thought with me, but I wanted to share 🥰

moving in stereo.

( dwayne x fem!reader. )

➾ pairing ; dwayne x fem!reader.

format: one-shot — requested.

word count: 5.9K.

warnings: SMUT (mdni), making out, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), bloodplay (he’s a vampire), breast-play, biting, hair-pulling, scratching, breeding kink, scent kink, p in v sex, missionary position, rough sex, begging, unprotected sex, mating press (a little bit), choking, bruising/marking, dwayne is hot

author’s note: i am so obsessed with him, it’s not even funny ngl :’) also, I have a couple of other fics/drabbles that I’ll probably post tonight too, I’m definitely feeling very inspired! If you haven’t voted on my poll, please do so! thank you guys sm for your continued love & support !! ❤️

Beads of blood filled your mouth as you absentmindedly chewed at the skin of your cheek, flesh taut between your back molars — you hadn’t intended to bite down as hard as you did. A singular glance at Dwayne’s hands had contorted into shameless ogling, smitten hues discreetly flickering over the veins and smudges of grayish grease coating his fingers.

He had a way with machinery that transcended you — he often claimed that it was simply natural instinct, but your running theory was something buried in his past life. Dwayne was known for his stoicism and quiet demeanor, neglecting to educate you on his background.

It must’ve been a life of hard work — otherwise, his hands wouldn’t have appeared so rough and calloused. They weren’t smooth and spindly like Marko’s, or pretty like Paul’s. They were taut and thick, dexterous and built for destruction, if he let it.

Hands that had held you many times before, touched you in ways that you longed to feel again. A shudder rolled down your spine as you daydreamed, mind floating into a fantastical haze of lascivious thoughts. If it weren’t for the presence of the other boys, a tendril of drool might’ve leaked from the corner of your mouth.

“It’s fucked, isn’t it?”

Paul’s agitated groan reverberated throughout the cavern as he crouched beside his boombox, slapping a palm against the top of the speaker, as if that would cure all ailments. His brows furrowed together, lip curled in annoyance as he knocked his hand against the machine a second time — for good measure.

“You’ll ruin it if you keep it up.” Dwayne’s monotonous remark echoed from the opposite side of the lobby. He was entrenched in repairing his motorcycle after it had gotten vandalized by a Surf-Nazi who didn’t live to tell the tale. Paul’s beloved stereo was the least of his concerns.

“How are we gonna listen to Alice?” A begrudging sigh escaped Paul, whose theatrics weren’t out of the ordinary. He huffed, falling in a dramatic heap along the edge of the dilapidated fountain. “Can’t you fix it, Dwayne?” He asked, peering toward his brother, who seemed entirely uninterested.

Silence filled the chasm between them, prompting you to stifle a smile. Dwayne didn’t enjoy being bothered whenever he was working on a project — he was always one to see it through until the very end.

David and Marko emerged from their abysmal resting place. Once the sun disappeared behind the ocean and dusk consumed dawn, the boys became wildly active. “Paul,” David’s voice carried, always domineering without even trying. “Let’s go.”

Disappointed in the lack of closure for his treasured boombox, Paul relented, rolling off of the stone bannister with an exaggerated sigh. He ruffled your hair in passing, and smacked Dwayne on the way out, who didn’t flinch or move a muscle. He simply exhaled — you could sense the twinge of irritation in his sigh alone.

Paul snickered, hopping up the ledge alongside David and Marko. “See you later, bud.” He sneered, waving at you as he departed with his brothers. Once the trio slunk away into the moonlight, it left you and Dwayne by yourselves in the cave.

You could’ve watched Dwayne work for hours, captivated by the way he dismantled the machinery, handling the finer pieces with nimble digits. He was wrist-deep in the grease-laden guts of his motorcycle, surrounded by a myriad of scrap and parts. His dark brows were furrowed together in stark concentration.

Intrigued, you abandoned your perch — a rickety, velvet-cushioned chair that had come with the hotel’s ancient wreckage. Paul’s stereo was sitting along the ledge, awaiting a tune-up that you knew Dwayne would inevitably provide. You sat down, inspecting it for any damage — it looked unharmed, on the outside.

“Do you think it was a user error sort of thing?” A burst of laughter escaped you as you opened up the hatch for the cassette tapes, noticing a rather banged-up copy of Alice Cooper’s Constrictor from ‘86. It was a good choice — you had to commend Paul’s taste in music.

Dwayne’s soft, bemused huff was all you needed to hear, prompting you to smile. You never mistook his tranquil, halcyon demeanor as indifference — he was a man of very few words. Even his temper wasn’t violent or tempestuous, like that of Marko or David. His placidity in most things was what drew you to him in the first place.

Being a human amongst a den of rancorous vampires wasn’t your intention, but you were happy — happiest with Dwayne, above all. He was the best boyfriend you’d ever had, not that it was a lengthy list. You idly fiddled with some of the switches on the boombox, removing and reinserting the cassette before closing it up.

Much to your chagrin, the stereo didn’t work — maybe it wasn’t Paul’s imagination after all. You gently nudged it back along the ledge, abandoning it for now. “How come you didn’t go with the others?” You inquired, folding one leg over the other, tapping the heel of your boot against the dusty stone.

There was a slight shift in his body language — a mere shrug of his broad shoulders, accompanied by the noises of metal clanging, gears twisting, and then he grunted. “I’m not looking for dinner.” Dwayne replied, matter-of-factly. He was in the midst of replacing the engine on his bike, placing the damaged part aside, hands stained in dark ichor.

With a soft hum, you pushed yourself off of the ledge, wandering over toward Dwayne’s scrapyard — a rather cluttered corner of the cave that acted as a makeshift garage. You sat along one of the flat outcroppings of rock, opting to watch him fix up his motorcycle. It would intrigue you more than messing with the boombox ever would.

His pearlescent teeth clenched around a wrench, clutched between his maw as he focused on putting the new engine back in. There was a quiet appreciation that he held for you — you were always respectful of his hobbies, if this even counted as one. Dark eyes flickered toward you, sitting there in your billowing sundress like some statuesque angel.

Dwayne appraised you in his usual silence, eyes carefully raking along your physique, as if he were undressing you through gaze alone. His jaw tensed, a fire beginning to spark within his chest, threatening to spread like an encroaching wildfire the longer he ogled you.

Sundresses were a hot commodity — and they never lasted, either. Dwayne made sure of it, and once he got his hands on you, that pretty fabric shielding you from him would cease to exist. He made it up to you with the gift of another, but rest assured, it would be shortlived.

It was a mutual feeling, the silent staring. His keen hues settled along the supple curves hiding just beneath that thin veil of fabric while you were captivated by the visual feast of strong, capable hands and taut forearms. You folded your hands within your lap, beginning to absentmindedly chew at your inner cheek again.

Your scent wafted throughout the short distance between the both of you, heavy with hints of your favorite perfume, a saccharine concoction that Dwayne had grown accustomed to. He loved your smell — it was unique to you, invading his senses as he continued his work.

Those strong, muscled hands of his were buried in the underbelly of the motorcycle, carefully placing the new engine back inside. He began to fasten it all into place, removing the wrench from his mouth, quickly fixing it all up with a series of bolts, screws, and metallic plates.

“I’ll teach you sometime.” Dwayne was, oddly enough, the one to shatter the comfortable silence between the both of you. He prided himself on playing mechanic — his ability to handle such equipment and repair it was rather renowned. Once he was satisfied with the job, he sat back, peering toward you.

Warmth oozed from those earthen-brown hues of his, coupled with a subtle adoration that only he possessed for you. Your smile only served to further it, the only thing to make his dead heart pump to life again.

“I’d like that,” You mused, canting your head to one side. “I think you should fix Paul’s stereo, too.” Even if Dwayne had brushed him off before, he would fix it and have it ready for him whenever he came back. It was the right thing to do, anyway.

Dwayne huffed, lips twitching into a threadbare smile, wrought with traces of amusement. He didn’t say anything — he didn’t need to. He wiped his hands off along the crimson cloth he carried in his back pocket, ridding his hands of engine grease and oil.

He stood, filling in his full height as he bent down to give you a kiss, hand carding through the back of your skull. It never failed to make you shudder, haplessly squeezing your thighs together as you reached for his forearm. Powerful, taut muscle flexed underneath your fingertips, and his kiss briefly intensified before he withdrew.

That familiar aching sensation flickered to life between your legs, a dull arousal pooling within your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to cling to him, beg for another kiss, but Dwayne was already over to the stereo, inspecting it for any damage it might’ve had.

For Dwayne, your mind was exceptionally loud — he could read your thoughts, hear them screaming from afar, which he happened to smile at from where he stood. The feeling was mutual, but he wanted to make you stew in it for a little while — it heightened the experience.

As he dismantled the stereo, you decided to go elsewhere — to Paul’s nest, which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he had an impressive collection of cassette tapes. You began climbing toward the rocky slope that led off into alcoves, using some of the ropes hanging about to pull yourself up.

“Where are you going?” Dwayne asked, seemingly finding the source of the boombox’s disarray — there were pieces of tape stuck in the machine.

“To see what Paul has to listen to,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “It’s the least that he can do for you since you fixed it. We should go listen to music.” Truthfully, Dwayne owned that stupid stereo just as much as Paul did — joint custody, you’d called it.

Hawkish, dark hues drank you in from afar, and Dwayne decided that he’d indulge himself in your wishes, picking up the boombox by the bottom. The handle had been broken off long ago — courtesy of Paul, once again. He simply trailed behind you, briefly pressing his hand against the small of your back when you made it up the incline, keeping you steady.

Paul’s nest was notoriously cluttered — in a very fascinating and macabre manner. It was littered in trinkets, things he’d taken from people he fed from, bones and all, or general thievary. The boys were all like this, but not to Paul’s level.

Posters of hair-bands and metal groups hung all around the rock, illuminated by flickering candlelight. It smelled faintly of marijuana, decorated by a patchwork array of tapestries, clothes, and stolen jackets. The guitar he’d lifted off of a traveling rock group sat on his bed — he always talked about starting a band.

A mountain of cassette tapes lay in a semi-organized heap, many of them taken from Videomax or anywhere he could find them. Dwayne simply stood at the fringes of Paul’s nest, watching as you picked through his extensive collection. You smiled at the handful you’d grabbed, rejoining Dwayne as the two of you made for his nest.

In an amusing juxtaposition, Dwayne’s nest was noticeably simplistic — yet, his personality was scrawled all over it. He liked to read, keeping a trunk of books, tools he’d taken from garages, and some trinkets stashed away in a large piece of a drawer.

He hadn’t bothered to invest in a bed for several decades — not until he got entangled with you. When Marko had mentioned it to you in-passing, it was rather intriguing, but you never asked Dwayne about it.

With the stereo now placed at the foot of his makeshift bed, placed atop a rather rickety wooden trunk, you ejected Alice Cooper from the hatch and put in The Cars, instead. Dwayne happened to regard this choice with curiosity, sitting along the edge of the mattress.

Moving in Stereo began to drift through the alcove, and you promptly fell back against the plush surface, tucking your hands atop your chest. “This song reminds me of you.” You murmured, gazing at the cavernous ceiling, focused on the jagged edges and outcroppings of rock.

Dwayne seemed curious, twisting slightly to face you. Even when sitting, he towered over you, indomitable and immovable, a wall of sheer strength and muscle. “Why does it remind you of me?” He wanted to hear your answer, eyes flickering toward your exposed stomach.

You smiled, somewhat embarrassed, but you decided to answer him anyway. “I don’t know,” You began, rolling over onto your side, propping yourself up with one hand. “Just a bit of a mystery, but alluring. It’s pretty magnetizing.” With a soft exhale, you began to pick at a stray string on one of the blankets that covered the mattress.

“Magnetizing,” Dwayne echoed, withholding the urge to smirk. Instead, he joined you, laying on his side as he mirrored your position, face mere centimeters away from yours. “You got a way with words, girl.” His chest shook with a brief huff before he leaned in to kiss you.

If a kiss could have destroyed you, this was it — Dwayne’s mouth consumed you, intensified by your seemingly innocuous words. He tasted good, like spiced smoke and the faint bite of copper.

You were eternally grateful to The Cars — Dwayne was careening into you, broad chest flush against yours, veined hand grasping at the base of your skull. Thick digits massaged at the nape of your neck, coaxing you close until there was no space left between you, lips voraciously tangling with yours.

He ripped all wisps of air from your lungs, as cold as ice as he shrugged off his jacket. Arousal reactivated inside of you, no longer dormant as your warm hands reached for his chest, feeling broad muscle underneath your palms. He felt like a god — chiseled, forever perfect — you were sometimes in-awe of his beauty.

In awe — Dwayne smirked against your mouth, unable to help himself when it came to your overactive imagination and racing thoughts. He pushed his hand underneath your shirt, fingers tracing along your curves as he began to feel a familiar tightening in his jeans.

Your scent thoroughly intoxicated him — your natural musk, the cling of perfume, the arousal coalescing between your thighs — it was a perfect amalgamation. Dwayne exhaled, sitting up and taking you with him, hands hooking into the hem of your shirt as he peeled it off of you.

His lips were on your flesh again, hands tearing your thin brassiere apart with ease, reveling in your warmth. Dwayne pressed a string of kisses along your neck, feeling the thrum of your pulse point pound against his mouth. The shorts you wore still clung to your frame, but they wouldn’t be for much longer.

“Dwayne,” You sighed, The Cars becoming nothing more than atmospheric background noise. Liquid heat pooled between your legs, a shiver rolling down your spine as he laid you down against the mattress, covering you with his body. Your eyes locked together as he stared down at you, gaze boring right through you. “I need you.”

Dwayne kissed your neck, sucking enough to create a hickey before he traveled to the base of your throat, peppering kisses across your collarbone. “Where do you need me, sweet girl?” His husky, warm baritone made you shiver in delight. Those eyes raked over you in rapture, full of reverence.

“Everywhere,” You whimpered, goosebumps coalescing along your spine. Dwayne’s huff of laughter made you smile, and you quickly urged him closer for another kiss. His mouth crashed against yours, passionate and blistering, full of an unrestrained want. “I’m yours.” A sweet moan tore past your lips.

A wave of possessiveness swelled up inside of him, coupled with that innate desire to keep you all to himself. Dwayne didn’t have an issue sharing with his brothers, but you? No — you belonged to him, and him alone. A growl rippled across his broad chest as he tore his lips away, returning to your sternum.

There was a prowess to him that the others didn’t possess — Dwayne was emotionally intelligent, just as vicious in the same breath. He was an enigma of so many things, drawing you in with his arcadian charm. Your fingers reached for his dark tresses, perusing through as he kissed your chest.

“You’re beautiful,” Dwayne’s affectionate baritone rumbled across your flesh as he continued his slow, deliberate string of kisses, making his way to your breasts. He trapped one nipple between his lips, gently suckling on the sensitive mound, the other hand tugging at your shorts. “Perfect.” He uttered.

You sighed, fingers tangling within his mane of black tresses, pulling and carding through. It felt silky between your digits, like velvet. Those veined, calloused hands gripped along the meat of your hips, strong and unwavering as he lifted you to discard your shorts.

Arousal pooled between your legs, honey-thick as it toyed with Dwayne’s senses. He wanted nothing more than to drown himself between your thighs, devour you until you were a trembling, mewling mess. Your thoughts shamelessly echoed that sentiment, prompting him to reach toward the apex of your thighs, hand breaking past the waistline of your panties.

Dexterous fingers languidly slipped along your slick cunt, making a line right for your clit. Your body responded in a near-violent fashion, hips jolting up into him, hands curling within his hair. “D—Dwayne!” You whimpered, chasing after the friction his hand provided. Those dark hues hadn’t left you, transfixed on your smitten countenance as he kissed your stomach.

He looked big when his body was spread over yours, but when he began to slink toward your thighs, he was hulking, a massive wall of muscle. Dwayne’s kisses continued, littered all across your pelvis and thighs, fingers still winding you up as he pushed in between your legs with those broad, bronze shoulders.

His visage was rugged with a fine layer of dark stubble, tangible as it scratched against your inner thighs. He curled his hands into your panties, and instead of removing them, Dwayne simply tore them asunder, leaving remnants of fabric behind. The alcove reverberated with the sounds of material being ripped apart.

A thin sheen of arousal painted your cunt, scent stinging his nose in the most pleasant way possible. The velveteen flesh of your inner thighs were layered in faint bite marks — his own, from the past. He looked to you for approval, thumb lazily circling around your clit.

“Please.” You huffed, head bobbing up and down in an idle nod as he moved his lips toward a patch of flesh, unmarred by any bites. Dwayne was always very sensual, and even when he fed from you, it felt so lascivious. Your body jolted, hips writhing closer as he began to bite down.

Dark, earthy-brown hues melted away into pools of a golden-red, unnaturally vibrant. The initial sting of his bite made you wince, but he was always gentle with you when it came to feeding. As sharp teeth drew blood, a low growl reverberated throughout his chest, causing you to shiver. Your fingers continued to trace through his mane of black hair, a myriad of moans escaping you.

Restraining himself from taking this further, he had his fill, kissing over your now-healing bite. Dwayne licked his lips, effortlessly tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulders as he tugged you closer. You were somewhat folded at the hips, but you didn’t care.

Dwayne’s gaze was incendiary, intense — he stared you down from his perch between your thighs. You were visibly flustered, staring right back, nearly shrinking away altogether. He kissed your thighs, mouth dangerously close to your aching cunt. “You ready, girl?” He asked, inhaling another gust of your scent.

You nodded, feeling every fiber of your being scream with desire, and you wanted him terribly. “Yes,” You whimpered, hands having splayed out at your sides instead, no longer buried within his hair. “Dwayne, please,” His deliberation made it worse. “I want you so bad.” Your hips wriggled again, desperate for his mouth.

A warm, hearty chuckle emerged from his lips, making his herculean form shake between your legs. “Just relax,” He soothed, noticing how coiled and poised you were. Those strong, veined hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread apart. The flat of his tongue lapped across your slit in one long stroke. “Relax, Mama.” His voice made your head swim.

Relaxation wasn’t exactly your forte — you were too wound-up, too drunk with desire to simply sit still and melt into the mattress. Dwayne’s tongue began to lap you up, greedily consuming every drop of your sweet arousal, working along your cunt. His fingers clamped hard, enough to leave behind the inklings of bruises, etched into your flesh like his personal brand.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze at his head, but he kept your legs firmly planted on his shoulders, pinning you down and rendering you immobile. Your taste saturated his tongue, and he only chased after it, dutifully lapping at your slit as his nose absentmindedly grazed against your clit.

Dwayne was relatively silent — and you didn’t mind in the slightest. The only ambiance happened to be The Cars, your delighted moans, and your boyfriend’s deep, rumbling grunts. His tongue worked wonders on your aching slit, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing as he lapped you up, gaze flickering towards you.

Your countenance was a vision of beauty, all contorted into an expression of complete and utter bliss. Your hips writhed, with very little room to go considering that Dwayne had you locked down, arms bracketed on your thighs, keeping you caged in against him.

A heavy fire burned bright within the pit of your stomach, demanding to be extinguished. Throaty, noisy moans escaped you in droves, vocalizing your delight as Dwayne vigorously lapped at your cunt. He alternated patterns, between soft and exploratory and recklessly needy. His mouth occasionally brushed over your clit, causing you to shiver.

Each time he ate you out, it was almost like the first time all over again — blissful, filled with a lust-infused passion that threatened to swallow you whole. Dwayne was beyond attentive, savoring you as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever had.

He lowered himself toward the mattress, musculature flat and poised between your thighs. Those strong, thick arms kept you held in-place, keeping you locked in as he continued to lap at your core. His hips rocked forward, harshly grinding against the bed to relieve some of the friction.

Much to your surprise, Dwayne got off on pleasuring you above all else. There was something intimately carnal about it, knowing that you only made those sounds for him, only let him touch you. Your hips jolted forward, met with a barrage of an eager tongue and mouth as he lapped at your cunt.

Dwayne grunted, lips opting to purse around your clit, instead. Your reaction was visceral, moans ascending to an excitable crescendo as your hands flew toward his hair. He grunted again, attempting to vocalize his own satisfaction of you pulling and tugging on his dark tresses as if they were reins.

A burnished-gold coloration had swallowed brown irises whole, flickering down towards your blissed-out visage. Your body had a mind of its own, twitching and writhing as his mouth relentlessly assaulted your aching cunt. Pleasure licked acros your frame, burning along your sensitive nerves. He was vigorous and attentive, throat itching with a dull, familiar ache.

Hunger could wait — Dwayne merely placed that feeling into the recesses of his mind. His tongue continued to cascade across your slit, lapping at your arousal before he returned his attention to your clit, suckling on that bundle of nerves. He steered you towards your orgasm, mind swimming with a thick haze of lust, overwhelmed by your heady scent.

“Dwayne!” Your voice carried above the nest, echoing throughout your cavernous surroundings. Fortunately, you were alone — you had little desire to mask how you felt about him. Needy digits gripped at his tresses again, hips bucking into his mouth until you were simply a pile of mush, unable to respond.

You were lost to the white-hot heat of your release, an explosive sensation that caused you to quiver and spasm in delight. A glittering perspiration danced across your hot flesh, sparkling from the glow of the candlelight. “Dwayne,” You huffed, a whimper emerging from the back of your throat as he dutifully cleaned you up.

He released your hips from his ironclad hold, crawling along your body until his broad frame nestled between your thighs. That taut, muscled hand rest against the base of your throat, digits gingerly squeezing on either side of your windpipe. You initiate a rather tantalizing kiss, able to taste yourself upon his tongue.

A clattering sound resonates in your vicinity, Dwayne wrestling his belt off of his hips as his jeans sag upon his frame. He’s swift, wrangling his pants aside with one hand, the other clutching onto your pretty throat like a vice, evoking a string of sinful noises from your mouth. You kiss him with a desperation that he matches tenfold.

His hips brush against yours, and the distance is nonexistent, closed by your stoic paramour, whose normally-cold gaze reflects with a semblance of warmth. Your hands clamor for his broad shoulders, sinking into the expanse of bronze skin, nails clamping down when he drags the head of his cock against your cunt.

“Speak up, sweet girl.” Dwayne grunts, lips ghosting above the shell of your ear. He thoroughly enjoyed your begging on occasion, with this happening to be one of those occurrences. His lips briefly press against the side of your face, stubble grazing across your silken complexion.

With an agonizing pace, he continued to toy with you, pushing his cock against your entrance, but declining to go any further. A pained whine escaped you as you tilted yourself closer. The hand around your throat squeezes, effectively commanding your attention.

“Please,” You sputter, squirming in delight whenever those veined digits tense around the slender expanse of your jugular. “Dwayne, please,” Your simpering pleas are met with a hiss as he sluggishly sinks into you, inch by inch. He lets out another shallow rumble when your fingers brazenly dig into his shoulder. “Please move!”

Cold-blooded and dangerous — but not to you, not now. The icy temperature of his flesh swallows the warmth wafting from you as he invades your space, musculature eclipsing any light. His shadow falls across you, visage awash with his own carnal delight. You’re tight around him, aided by your arousal.

Another satisfactory snarl rips forth from his mouth, echoing next to your ear. You wrap your legs around his broad hips, gasping when he began to move. His cock hit new depths, pulling halfway out before Dwayne pushed himself back in again. His pace was rhythmic and passionate — not sloppy or too rough.

The pad of his thumb draws circles along the curve of your jawline, the rest of his hand tight around your windpipe. You moan, legs locked like a vice as he continues to roll his hips forward, cock battering its way into your cunt with a domineering force. Dwayne was taking it easy on you — if he lost control, it wouldn’t be very pretty for either of you.

His lips find yours, kissing you fervently as you reciprocate in a flurry of passion. Heat bled from you, arousal seeping from your core as Dwayne continued to rut into you, one hand splayed beside your head. The sparkling sheen of his ring glints in the lower light, mouth relentlessly assaulting yours in a barrage of kisses.

Dwayne grunts into your mouth, but the entanglement is shortlived as he moves to cover parts of your neck in kisses — whatever parts aren’t covered by his hand. You feel the sudden scrape of razor-sharp fangs drifting over your flesh, testing your resolve. You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as you grip and pull on his hair.

Sometimes you simply forgot that he was a specter of the night, a fanged creature who had the capability to rip you apart at any moment. His fangs continue to hover across your neck before they retracted, lips replacing them as he kissed your pulse point. There was an added element of thrill and exhilaration as you whimpered, his name spilling from your mouth over and over again.

You nearly see stars when he pistons himself into you again, slow and savoring you, enjoying the sluggishness of it all as Dwayne continues to drag out his thrusts. Your cunt clenches pathetically around his length, prompting you to whimper and moan, goosebumps coalescing along your spine.

“More,” It was incoherent, a string of needy babbles that escaped you in droves. “Dwayne, please,” You whimpered, chewing at your lower lip. In the midst of his own pleasure, Dwayne’s calculating stare flickered toward you — it wasn’t a good idea. “Please, please fuck me.” You begged, hearing the growl that echoed deep from within his chest.

“You sure?” Dwayne didn’t want to hurt you, but he was inclined to obey your needy command. Another grunt escaped him as he steadily rutted away into your tight cunt, deliberating in the midst of it all. “Won’t be gentle.” His stark warning was concrete, you knew this — you knew exactly what you were getting yourself into.

Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, you nodded several times over, digits gently curling around his wrist. “Yeah.” You panted, chest fluttering with a tight sensation as he gave you a hasty, passionate kiss, a parting gift as he squeezed at your jugular. That steady rhythm began to pick up instantaneously.

Dwayne made sure to watch you closely, gaze hawkishly trained upon your body as he began to fuck you. The intensity and the heat rose like a tidal wave, consuming the both of you as he pounded away at your poor cunt. Your legs rattled like leaves, attempting to stay locked around his waist.

The taut muscles of his shoulders and abdomen worked in-tandem, body effortlessly exerting strength. For him, it was nothing — for you, it was a different experience entirely. He was rough, manhandling you with one hand as he grabbed at your hips, enough to leave behind faint impressions in the form of bruises.

Moving in Stereo still swallowed any background noise, encompassing the whole of Dwayne’s nest. You were a complete and utter mess, devolving into a puddle of sweet moans and needy whimpers, especially whenever he applied pressure around your throat. He squeezed whenever he thrust into you, force akin to that of a barely-restrained battering ram.

Even in his self-proclaimed roughness, Dwayne was still executing some measure of restraint. “Mine,” His thunderous voice swarmed you from all sides as he fucked you into submission, gritting pearlescent teeth together as he approached his climax. You kept nodding, back arching into his touch.

“Dwayne,” Dwayne — it feels like the only word you’re capable of saying, rolling from your tongue with a wanton moan. You tug on his tresses with an urgency, feeling his hips grind against yours, flesh kissing flesh with unyielding thrusts. His cock continues to bury itself deep inside of your needy slit until it can go no further. “S—Shit! Right there!” You cry.

He huffs, musculature flat against you, chest to chest as you coax him in for another kiss. You whimper into his mouth when his tongue tangles with yours like a heat-seeking missile, teeth breaking the thin skin of your lower lip. Pearls of crimson trickle onto his tongue, fusing lust with hunger — all for you.

Dwayne didn’t stop, showing no signs of stopping as he fucked the both of you through an orgasm, painting your cunt in hot ropes of seed. He doesn’t pull out, a sensation that the two of you feed off of. If it weren’t for his vampirism, you’d be round with his children — the fantasy would continue to linger on for as long as he pleased.

“Shit, Mama,” Dwayne’s strained baritone sends shivers throughout your body. He rarely talks during sex, and this felt like a treat as he continued to thrust into you, feeling your nails dig angry crescents into his shoulder. He groans, savoring the feeling of your constant tugging on his mane of dark tresses. “You’re perfect.” His voice tapered off into a possessive growl.

You want to scream, a raging fire surging throughout your body before it finally comes to an end, extinguished by Dwayne’s rough rutting. He could’ve kept it up, continued all night long with his cock stuffed inside of you, but humanity was both a blessing and a curse. Your thighs shook underneath his grasp, and he began to slow, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

His hand left behind a searing brand around your throat — whether or not the imprints are visible, it’s the sensation that refuses to leave. Your windpipe feels a little sore, but it’s a pleasant burn as he comes to a crawl, nestling his forehead against yours.

The excitement and blissful thrill of the moment steadily begins to fade, composure replacing a very heavy lust. Your heart thrums beneath your breast, beginning to crawl to a more uniform beat as you nudge forward, kissing Dwayne again. Your lips are swollen, split down the middle with a patch of dried cruor.

Dwayne’s exhale of relaxation comes after, and the tension within his body unfurls. He kept himself inside of you still, feeling your poor cunt clench around his cock when he adjusted his position. His kiss is astoundingly tender this time around, able to taste the pang of copper upon your lip, accompanied by your natural sweetness.

A sense of euphoria overwhelms you, body feeling wonderfully heavy as Dwayne peppered kisses all along your jaw and collarbone. “You alright?” He murmured, making sure that he hadn’t pushed the limit with you. It was easy to become lost in the moment, forget about your humanity.

You nodded, wincing slightly when he pulled out of you, resting his head against your stomach, arms encircling themselves around you. “Better than alright,” You mused, tracing your fingers throughout his hair. “You think Paul will mind that we borrowed his stereo?” Laughter burst forth from your mouth.

A bemused huff escaped Dwayne as he reached over with one muscled arm, hitting the ‘NEXT’ track on the boombox. He pulled you close, nose wrinkling in disdain as Drive by The Cars came on — it wasn’t exactly his taste in music.

“Like you said,” He rumbled, peering up at you with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. His arms effortlessly tugged you down to his level, lips twitching into a faint smirk, rare for Dwayne yet mesmerizing all the same. His mouth brushed above yours. “Joint custody.”

#the lost boys x reader #the lost boys x you #slasher x reader #slasher x you #tlb dwayne x reader #dwayne tlb x reader #the lost boys fanfiction #the lost boys #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #the lost boys 1987

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mochis-cream · 6 months ago

Text

11:34 — song mingi ♡

・ sometimes you wonder what life decisions you’ve made that wound you up by this clowns side, but then again, you wouldn’t trade him for the world

s.mg x gn!reader ・ ateez ・ 에이티즈 ・ sfw ・ non!idol au ・ wc: exactly 600 ・ genre -> fluff, slice of life, slapstick ・ one shot! -> masterlist!

content warning: established relationship, collective sillies, mingi minging, princess mingi realness, cursing, lowercase intended, not proofread

author’s note: guys idk what happened!! one minute i was asleep and then the next i was awake at 3 in the morning writing this 😰😰 anyways mingi mingi mingi i love mingi mmrph (*´∇｀*)

‘CAUTION! DO NOT TOUCH!!’

you were certain that was the warning you gave. you were positive, actually, because you're looking at those words right now, written in your handwriting on a sticky note attached to a prank canister. the same prank canister that currently lies in the doorway, open at your feet, several feet away from the only other person in the room who could've opened it. the same person who currently lies on the floor, covered in confetti and fallen cereal, staring up at you like a deer caught in headlights.

"uh- princess? okay, what the fuck. what happened?" you ask, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. the sight is both tragic and fucking hilarious: mingi, wide-eyed and looking like he’s just survived a cartoonish explosion, is splayed out in a sea of brightly colored paper and cheerios.

mingi looks up at you, still processing the events that led to his current predicament. “i... uh... think i touched something i shouldn’t have,” he says, his voice a mix of embarrassment and lingering shock.

you take a moment to survey the room. the open prank canister lies a few feet away, likely flung from mingi's hands during his moment of panic. “and by that you mean the thing that said ‘caution! do not touch!’ in big, bold letters? the thing with the warning written in my handwriting?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he nods sheepishly. “uh yeah, that seems to be the case.”

you can't help it. the laughter bubbles up from deep inside you, and soon you're doubled over, clutching your stomach as you laugh uncontrollably. mingi watches you with a mix of amusement and annoyance, still covered in confetti and cereal, looking like the world's saddest party favor. a tried and true damsel in distress.

finally, you catch your breath and kneel down beside him. “my, princess, you really outdid yourself this time,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye. you start picking confetti out of his hair, still chuckling.

mingi huffs, sitting up and trying to shake off some of the cereal clinging to his clothes. “it’s not funny,” he mutters, but as much as he might complain, the corners of his mouth twitching upward speaks for itself.

“ah, yeah, you’re right. it’s absolutely hilarious,” you counter, pulling him to his feet. “why on earth would you touch something that i explicitly wrote ‘do not touch’ on?”

mingi shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “i dunno.”

you shake your head, still grinning. “there’s never a dull moment with you, is there?”

as you both start cleaning up the mess, you can't help but think about how your life with mingi has always been this way, full of surprises left and right. sure, not every surprise is a good one, but such is life. both of you have your own things to work out, and thing are never always perfect, but you wouldn’t trade this relationship for the world. besides, who else would provide such endless entertainment?

it’s funny really, how two completely different people can come to live and share their lives, and in the end create something beautiful despite the messes they make along the way.

as you scoop up handfuls of cereal and confetti, you glance over at mingi, who's trying (and failing) to stuff the prank canister back together, and it finally clicks. a thought that’ll stay with you until the day you die, ‘yeah, this is the goof i’m staying with for the rest of my life.’

truely, you couldn’t possibly be any happier. lucky you, huh?

#♡。 sio.txt #ateez #ateez mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #mingi drabble #mingi imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #mingi fluff #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines

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hybridirl · 1 year ago

Text

missed you.

18+ only, please!

abby x f!reader

minor(?) spoiler in author note

a/n: hello everypony! i’m star!!! SO IM ALMOST (i am done as of 1/22/24. started this fanfic b4 this quick note) DONE WITH THE LAST OF US 2 AND GOOODD FUUUCKKKKK!ING DAAAMMIIITTTT!!! abby so obviously has comphet idk WHY THE FUCK she slept with owen. that scene was CRAZY but we did in fact get boob shot so i am kind of satisfied. not only that RIGHT WHEN HE STARTED GOING AT IT MY FUCKING DAD WALKED IN?? i literally JAMMED my thumb against the pause button i thought i broke the goddamn controller. me and my cousin were shocked (she was watching me play). but i, of course, am the master of hiding such things so it was easy. thank FUCK the pause screen goes dark because oh my god it was so obvious.

brief summary: your girlfriend, abby, is back from a mission and you show her just how much you missed her.

tw / kinda fluffy, pet names, use of y/n (maybe idk), cunnilingus (a receiving), slight head crushing, scissoring, established relationship w abby

intentional lowercase. not proofread, probably won’t ever be proofread.

✭・.・ ✫・゜・

“abby!” you waved her over and watched as the muscular woman made her way to you. you were sat at the lunch hall, at your own little table everyone called practically yours.

“baby,” she greeted with that warm smile she tends to put on for you. it was exciting. you hadn’t seen abby in days and now she’s finally back from her mission. she wrapped her arm around you tight as she plopped into the space next to you.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t come,” you whispered into abby’s neck while leaning into her. “isaac is so mean to me.” abby chuckled and rubbed your shoulder with a large hand.

“all good.” she squeezed you closer, smooshing your smaller frame against her side. you wrapped an arm around her and buried yourself into her to feel her closeness. “missed you, sweetpea.” her voice tickled your scalp; a hum full of content left your throat in response while your nose nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“missed you, too, abby,” you sighed in a hushed tone, your fingers coiling around hers. you looked up at her, your eyelids finding themselves fluttering at her loving gaze. you spoke, “wanna show you how much,” and you watched as corner of her mouth twitched up; she eyed you with almost-amused eyes.

it was routine: long mission, come home, make love. this was just part of the process.

“oh, yeah?” she started, “and how are you gonna do that?” she teased you slightly, but her eyes showed her knowing. you huffed a little at this coy act and got up, pulling her along with you.

you guided her across the way, hurriedly traversing hallways and rooms and trying to dodge the kiddos and finally! your room. manny had gotten used to your routine, so he intended to stay away from the room as much as possible for that day — or maybe the next few.

you pushed into the large room, the muscular woman following in suit. she shut the door, locked it, the usual.

“alright, baby,” she purred and picked you up, but your hand slapped lightly against her shoulder.

“put me down,” you huffed, “said i wanna show you. not you show me.” abby smirked that smirk and put you down. your arms wrapped around her neck, a small pout playing at your lips.

“a—h, i see,” abby replied with a hand to run down your side. it stopped at your hip, squeezing the flesh that rested there. “gonna worship me t’night, sweetpea?” she let out a little chuckle before stepping away from you and down the small steps, finding her bed. she nodded her head to you, practically beckoning you over. it’s the best you’re gonna get — abby doesn’t beg.

you followed the quiet order, doing what you do best for her. you didn’t kneel yet, but you did bend over to find the button of her jeans.

“off,” you muttered while your fingers fumbled with the easy task. she pushed a hand away, allowing herself to tug her jeans and boxers off. what it revealed to you always froze you for just a second: her vulva. it was trimmed, blonde, and her pubic hair was straight. you looked up at her as if asking for permission, which she of course gave by sinking deeper into the bed, her hips nudging toward you.

you gently pushed her shoulders down before finally kneeling at the bed, appreciating the beauty that was emanating such heat.

it was slightly pinker, and it glistened with desire. her outer labia was slightly puffy; you allowed your index and middle finger to gently spread it, showing her clenching hole to your hungry eyes. her clit was already protruding from its hood, hard and throbbing for friction.

your eyes flickered to hers for just a second before your mouth opened, your tongue slipping out and dipping just slightly into her wet darkness before guiding itself up right to the raw of her clit. her hips rolled in response and she thoroughly adjusted her body, her hands pulling against the back of your head.

the soft, low moans she made always did it for you. it was the encouragement you didn’t know you needed until it happened. it was almost angelic.

your lips enveloped the small bud, gently sucking it while your tongue flicked against the top of her clit.

“f—uck,” she moaned deeply, pulling your head closer to her drooling cunt. your arms wrapped on the underside of her thighs, folding and stopping at the top of her thighs. your hands continued to spread your legs whilst they desperately tried shutting. “keep working that damn tongue.” upon that request, your tongue swirled across her clit, up down left right and over and under and oh, my. those moans. whimpers and whines left her throat, unable to vocalize anything more.

“abby,” you sighed into her heat and let your tongue slurp up her desire. “y’taste so good.” you kissed at her clit, then moved down, slipping your tongue into her while your nose bumped her clit.

“keep going, baby, i’m almost there,” she moaned out whilst her hands reached toward your hair to pull you deeper. with your face smooshing against her cunt, her thighs shut tightly around your head. “yes, god, fuck…”

your mouth was relentless, even as she tipped over the edge; her clit throbbed and her vagina clenched around your tongue. you lapped it all up, of course, needing to taste her sweet n’ salty need. your hands reached up and underneath her shirt, caressing her chest and pinching at her nipples as she came; it only intensified the grip on your hair and the clenching of her thighs against your head.

your mouth dripped with slick, a sign of your hunger as she tugged your head away.

“abby,” you breathed, removing your clothes in the process. the thin string of your own slick connected you to your underwear as you tugged them down. she made way for you, scooting deeper into the bed as you climbed on. you sighed out a quick “fuck” before bringing your pussy down on hers.

“grind that pussy,” she growled deeply, her hands gripping your hips. “fuck.” her hands guided your movements, heavy and powerful rocks against each other.

“abby, please,” you groaned, your hand meeting your own breast to tweak your nipples. the other hand rested on abby’s thigh, keeping it spread for you to continue your work against her.

it hadn’t taken long for you, the sensations so powerful as your buds rubbed together. you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth until you were sure it was about to bleed, and your stomach became a knot.

“i’m about to-“ you started, but abby hushed you quickly.

“i know, baby, cum on me,” she purred out, “cum on my pussy, sweetheart, cum on my pussy.” and as if she had some control over your body, you came by her command. she followed in suit, your moans intermixing and your bodies convulsing. you leaned down to kiss her, holding her head close to yours as your lips danced and tongues tangled.

“i missed you,” you said softly to her after catching your breath, kissing her cheek and down her jaw. her large arms wrapped around your body, pulling you close to her while you gently kissed at her face. with a soft smile, she returned the favor with a few kisses on your chin and the corner of your lips.

“i missed you, too.”

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gomapda · 7 months ago

Text

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 1)

this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.

side A found here!

author's note:

oh goodness. it's been a while.

i really did intend on posting this soon after i published the first part, but then life kind of got in the way. i graduated from grad school, moved to south korea, and have been here since. i'm still a carat, and i really do think about this fanfiction all the time, mainly because this story is truly me bearing my soul to the internet and my friends who have access to the original google doc.

this one is a lot less edited and looked over, but it's because this portion of the fic reminds me of something i'm still in deep grief for. so, for those of you who will read this, i was originally going to have a third installment, but i think i'll leave it at this two. it feels good and true to leave it here.

this was supposed to be published yesterday on seventeen's anni, but i was busy spending time with my korean host family who i've not been able to see that often since moving out :')

maybe i'll write short stories including these two because they are so special to me, but this main story has come to a close. the real final push was jihoon releasing "what kind of future?" officially, the very song that inspired this fic, in honor of his beautiful friend and human, moonbin. bin-ah, i hope you're sailing among the stars and looking over all of those who love you and who you love in return.

and to you, who may be reading this, thank you for being here.

✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧

tagging @fiantomartell since you asked me to whenever i published this. it's been a long while, but.

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

──────────────────

side b: him.

The rapid beating in his chest drowned out the slam of the door behind him as he rushed down the stairs of your home, desperate to just get away as soon as possible. Your parents weren’t home, so he didn’t have to worry about looking like an absolute fool in front of them.

You knew. You fucking knew.

You knew how much he was in love with you and this was your way of rejecting him.

He was stupid, so stupid. If he just put his feelings aside then you wouldn’t leave. You wouldn’t have to leave. But this was all his stupid hormones and brain chemistry and his fucking heart. He knew that it wouldn’t pan out. You never saw him as anything more than just a dear friend, a brother. You made that clear.

Since the beginning, your pinkies intertwined promised a forever, but you both had different ideas of what that was. And he was stupid to believe there was a chance.

He ran.

He ran so far and so hard that he couldn’t make sense of left or right or forward or backward. All he knew was that he needed to get away from you.

But he couldn’t.

He passed by Old Man Park’s home with a winding tree you were convinced held fae people that would only come out when the entire town was asleep (there was a 50km radius, you said).

He ran by the rusted bars of the playground you two snuck off to instead of going to cram school where you attempted a flip and promptly landed on the crown of your head, wood chips tangling themselves into your hair, tears mixed with laughter and pain streaming down your cheeks.

The library where you would spend more time in the children’s section than anywhere else because you would practice your ‘reading voice’ for your future children’s bedtime stories.

The baseball field where the realization that he was in love with you hit him harder than any fastball pitch ever could.

You were everywhere.

And he needed to get away.

He went to your house to share the news of passing the trainee audition, that was the whole purpose of seeing you.

However, that wasn’t the only thing he planned on confessing.

If you asked him to stay, he would have.

But instead, you rejected him before he even got one word out.

So, he packed his bags up for Seoul, a place untarnished by you. A city that not even your light could reach, no matter how radiant you were.

──────────────────

Years later.

“Jihoon-ah, aren’t you working too hard?”

He glanced up at Jeonghan who was probably let into the studio by Bumzu. Jihoon glanced at the clock to notice a bright 4:02am glaring back at him. “Ah, hyung. I didn’t even notice the time.”

“I figured. I brought you some food.”

Jihoon glanced down at the two bags in his hands. His eyes narrowed. “Hyung, I don’t eat as much as you think I do.”

“I’ve seen you eat three full meals in one sitting. Get away from your desk and we can eat.”

Jihoon sighed before he reluctantly left the seat he hardly moved from for over seven hours. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied happily, snapping the wooden chopsticks into two. He started chewing on one of the danmuji, the sound of its crunch reverberating in the studio. “Oh. And also, the wi-fi’s down at the dorm, so.”

“So, you’re here to steal my bandwidth.”

“I brought you food. I paid my toll.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “Alright, sure.”

“So, are you in the composing stage or the writing lyrics stage?”

“...Lyrics.”

“Hm. What are you writing about? Or rather, who are you writing about?”

Jihoon stabbed the grilled fish. “...You know who.”

“She’s really got a grip on you, huh.”

Jihoon grunted in response. Obviously.

Jeonghan continued, “I saw that one of the local newsletters interviewed the group home that she volunteers at. She was voted as volunteer of the year. Again. She smiles with her entire body. Seems like a good person.”

The younger of the two picked away at the fish, not bringing it onto his makeshift plate. “Yeah.”

“Do you still stalk her on Instagram?”

Jihoon let out a loud sigh.

“That’s a yes, then.”

“You know it’s not as bad as it used to be. I used to check, like, every few weeks, but now it’s gone down to just a couple times a year.”

“She hasn’t blocked you yet?”

“Hah. I don’t think she even knows that my account is reactivated.”

“Well, you never needed to reactivate before. Her Instagram used to be public. The rest of the members and I used to scroll through wondering how a bright girl like her could be associated with such a deadpan guy like you.”

“Wow. Thanks, hyung.”

Jeonghan merely brushed off Jihoon’s sarcasm, already used to it. “She only made it private this last year, right? Since she complains about her program being out to kill her on her story. To be honest, I’m surprised she didn’t realize you’ve been watching her stories.”

“I don’t think she checks who watches her story since she has over a few thousand followers.”

“She attracts people, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she always has.”

“Can I see her profile again?”

“You’re not going to do something weird, right?”

“Ey, Jihoon-ah.”

“That makes me really not want to.”

“Ey.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes before pulling out his phone. He opened Instagram and clicked on the “Search” feature and saw your profile appear at the top without even needing to type anything. He signaled for Jeonghan to scoot down the couch so he could sit down and handle the phone in his own hands. Jeonghan peered over his shoulder as he scrolled through your profile.

“Oh, is that Japan?”

“Yeah.”

Jihoon clicked on your post.

But it wasn’t opening.

So, he clicked again. And then again.

And his phone decided to catch up with his thumb’s movements.

The once white heart was now red.

His grip loosened on the device of betrayal and it clattered to the ground. “Oh shit.”

Jeonghan bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. He placed his hand on Jihoon’s shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m sorry, but. This is karma for not letting me see her profile on my own.”

“Hyung. Hyung. What should I do?”

“Just unlike it? I’m pretty sure that Instagram doesn’t send a notification as long as you unlike it before she sees it.”

“How do you know?”

Jeonghan shrugged. “Jihoon. It’s not the end of the world if she happens to see it. If she blocks you, then you know, and you end up writing another heartbreak masterpiece—” Jihoon couldn’t even appreciate the comment. “—but. Who knows what’ll happen?”

“...”

“Uh. I’ll just… do it for you, then.”

Jeonghan picked up the phone, facing the screen towards Jihoon, the camera scanning his frozen features to unlock and Jeonghan tapped the red heart to empty it again. He placed the phone back on the younger man’s thigh, but Jihoon remained in the same position as earlier, eyes glazed.

“Jihoon-ah.”

“Hyung.”

“Let’s just wait, yeah? The food’s getting cold. So, let’s finish eating.”

“...Okay.”

──────────────────

Jihoon picked at the rice bowl in front of him, his mind light years away, chest filled with concern for the future. Was auditioning for a company worth it? Even if he started the process now, wouldn’t it still take a while to even hear back?

“Jihoonie.”

His heart constricted once he heard the voice of the person who made him unsure. He caught you blinking owlishly at him. “Y/N.”

“Hrmm. You seem quite a bit down, my friend. You’ve barely touched your first bowl of rice. It’s concerning.”

“Just thinking.”

“Oh, don’t do that. We know that usually ends badly for people.”

“Well, someone between the two of us has to have brain cells.”

“I pride myself in simultaneously never thinking and also being the top student of our school.”

“You work miracles, Y/N.”

“Hey, now I know you’re down because you didn’t call me a flipping nerd. Your best moods are usually accompanied by your worst words.”

“You make me seem like an asshole. You slander me to other people, don’t you?”

“Of course. I can’t have them know just how utterly wonderful and fantastic you are. I’d rather you have that butthole reputation if I get to keep my best friend all to myself. I’m a selfish lady, you know.”

Did you even know how much your words affected him?

“You’re neither selfish nor a lady.”

“Oh, but I am. I’m a selfish lady who’s only checking on you because I refuse to be wrought with worry for the rest of the day. So, come on, Jihoonie. Let’s go play darts.”

“Last time we played you almost stabbed my hand.”

“Your fault for reaching for the board when I was about to own you. Come on. Let’s go. I’ll make a pinky promise with you.”

Jihoon snorted. “Of what?”

“I promise to do whatever you want if you win.”

Jihoon scrunched up his nose in response. You were always so naive with him, trusting him wholly. But a part of him was grateful that you did. He merely sighed and stood up.

He might as well use your promise to his advantage.

──────────────────

“She didn’t block me.”

“Oh, really?” Jeonghan glanced up at Jihoon who suddenly broke the silence.

“Who’s she?” Soonyoung’s ears perked up.

“You know. His firefly,” Jeonghan replied.

“What? Why would she block you?” Seungkwan directed his question at Jihoon, who was simply trying to edit lyrics in his own studio, which was being occupied by several SEVENTEEN members.

“Jihoon accidentally liked one of her posts last night, but we unliked it. Oh, sorry. I unliked it because he was completely frozen.”

“The notification probably didn’t go through,” Seungkwan supplied. “I’m pretty sure unliking a post makes the notification go away.”

Jihoon had set his phone aside earlier in hopes of not constantly checking it. His mind may be unsteady, but he was always self-disciplined.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Soonyoung glance down at his own phone screen that buzzed a second prior.

“Oh. Jihoon-ah, she liked one of your posts.”

Before his mind could even catch up, Jihoon flung himself to his phone, his self-discipline be damned. He frantically clicked on the notification and it redirected him to his Instagram page, where he saw your name among the list of likers. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was racing or whether it stopped completely because the buzzing in his ears overtook all of his other senses.

He even ignored the boys’ laughter around him.

“Is… Is social media actually facilitating real connection right now? Are we about to prove all of the ahjussi and ahjumma wrong? Are we about to witness history?”

“Seungkwan-ah.”

“Sorry, Jeonghan-hyung.”

“She… She didn’t block me. She saw me. What is this? What do I do? Do I just ignore it? Or should I let her know I saw it?”

Soonyoung snorted. “Yah, I’ve never seen Jihoon this nervous for any performance ever.”

“His heart’s probably racing more than it did the Golden Disc Awards.”

“WHAT DO I DO.”

“Jihoon-hyung,” Seungkwan started. “I think the first thing you need to do is breathe.”

So, he did. In. Out. In. Out.

After what seemed like years, Soonyoung spoke up. “So… Are you gonna message her?”

Jihoon sat in contemplation for a moment before he decidedly shook his head. “No. It’s time to write a song.”

Soonyoung’s eyebrows rose at that. “You’re gonna go back to work after all of this?”

Jihoon bit his lip. “No. This is gonna be a solo song.”

The corners of Jeonghan’s lips curled up at his dongsaeng. “I’m sure it’ll be beautiful.”

Jihoon nodded almost mindlessly.

Everything about her usually is.

──────────────────

“Jihoonie~ Wake up~”

He groaned loudly under the bed covers.

He heard you snicker, the only warning before you landed with a loud thump as he let out an “oof!” from beneath you.

“Get off me. You weigh like a million pounds.”

Rather than listening, you spread your limbs and trapped the adolescent boy beneath you, nuzzling further into the outer casing of his cocoon. “Nope. Just yesterday you yelled at me for not eating enough when you flung me off of the couch by accident because I stole the remote. So.”

“I’m suffocating. You’re killing your best friend.”

“Oh, but to die with a beautiful girl on top of you, isn’t that the way to go?”

There was a moment of silence where Jihoon contemplated catapulting your entire being off of his bed before, “Pretty sure that’s your dream, you damn pervert,” came his muffled reply.

“Huh. You might be right there.”

“Get! Off!”

His hand easily found your weak point between your first and second rib and you cried out as you toppled down onto his bedroom floor. He emerged from the confines of his sheets with hair sticking up every which way.

You grinned lazily up at his disheveled state and he glared right back at you. “Why are you in my bedroom?”

“Because your mom said to come and get you! We’re going to Muju today, remember? In time for the Firefly Festival!”

“Right. It’s your yearly family reunion.”

“Yes, I will become one with the bugs. My fursona will arise again. Or is it bugsona?”

“Is a buggy better than a furry?”

“You’re asking me to choose between two evils, my dear Jihoonie. Come on, get up. I’m excited to spend an entire weekend with our family.”

It was way too early for his mind to whirr as fast as it did at the simple implication of ‘our’. “Alright, firefly. Get out of my room so I can get ready.”

“Okay! I’ll go help Mama downstairs.”

You were committed to calling Jihoon’s mom as Mama instead of Eomma, as the latter held a tone for you that was nothing less than stressful.

Jihoon smiled at your joy, but stopped when he noticed you freeze in place. “...What?”

You shifted the weight in your feet before speaking. “Mm. Just had a thought. With a smile like yours, who would ever need the summertime?”

You grinned at him while his heart stopped. You always spoke without a care in the world; never carefully crafting your thoughts before speaking them aloud. You were spontaneous. Wild, even. Sometimes it ended with you in some kind of trouble, while other times, like this one, ended with him in trouble instead.

You scurried out of his room before he could respond.

He released a dragged out sigh as he felt his cheeks warm.

Forget summertime.

He wondered whether the earth could be sustained through all of the seasons at the sheer brilliance of your smile.

But he ought to thank the summertime.

Because it meant, every year, without fail, he would wake up to you, he would smell the breakfast you helped his mother cook, he would hop on a plane to travel to a different province and see the night sky alight with hundreds of fireflies, your face aglow with soft awe and wonder.

Yeah.

He needed the summertime.

──────────────────

“What? Jihoon-hyung is talking to the girl that just upped and left him and fled the country?”

“Chan-ah, your wording needs work,” Seungcheol chastised. The other members that were near enough to hear nodded, while others were distracted by their own activities.

Jihoon buried his face in his hands. “Eugh, I don’t even know anymore. It’s not like we’re actually talking; she just reliked one of my posts. It’s like, she went back and let me know that she saw me. But is that supposed to be a warning? Is it supposed to be a white flag?”

The youngest member of SEVENTEEN shrugged. “Hyung, I think that you’re putting a lot of meaning behind something that was just a small gesture.”

“Nah, Chan,” Seungcheol interjected. “Jihoon has been in love with this girl since he was a kid. This is more than just a small gesture, after what she did to him.”

Wonwoo spoke up. “Hey, don’t forget Jihoon was the one who left Busan first.”

The accused groaned.

“Wonwoo, you’re just biased towards her because you think that she and Jihoon would make a good couple and you believe in an ideal love.”

“Hyung, I just think that if Jihoon can write what he writes about her, there’s something there.”

“You romanticist.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Jihoon-ah, I think you’ve tried to reach her with your words time and time again, but maybe it was never made clear that she was the one it was for. You mentioned that she really thought you were in love with your noona—” Jihoon grimaced at the memory. “—so, maybe she’s just unaware.”

“She can’t be that oblivious,” Soonyoung interrupted. Jihoon knew Soonyoung was almost fiercely protective over him because he was the one who witnessed Jihoon’s aftermath firsthand. Soonyoung may be over-the-top some days, but whenever Jihoon needed it, he would help ground him.

Wonwoo’s eyes flicked between the two of his fellow 96ers. “We were all kids once, Soonyoung. We were all so focused on ourselves we couldn’t really see what was happening around us.”

Soonyoung pursed his lips. “...I guess. Jihoon, what do you think?”

Jihoon stared at his hands. “Does it matter whether she knew back then or not?”

They all collectively raised a brow.

“Whattaya mean?” Seungcheol asked.

“I can make a ton of assumptions about her. That she was actually in love with me and was scared. That she was rejecting me in her own cruel, yet kind, way. That she had no idea and the timing was just completely off. But all of that, I don’t actually know. All I do know is that… I want to see her. And not just from afar anymore. But part of me also hates her. But all of me misses her. I don’t know. I guess I’m just too stupid to figure this out.”

A heavy silence passed over the group.

Soonyoung broke it. “If you’re stupid, then I’m the biggest idiot on this planet.”

“That’s not comforting, that’s just a fact.”

“Hoon, you wound me.”

──────────────────

Award shows were weird.

At first, everything was an out-of-body experience for him and could barely process what was happening. He even couldn’t believe that he and his twelve members managed to earn their matching pinky rings and the right to produce and perform, let alone be nominated for an award. When they went on the stage, they did their best to be as refreshing of idols as they could be.

But it was much more daunting than they were used to.

Their debut year went by, and although there were many nominations, they remained only that.

In middle school, he would often tell you that you had a strange fixation on being number one in your graduating class. He said that he didn’t get it, that being in the top 5 was already something that was admirable.

He would never forget the look you gave him when you said, “One day, you’ll know what it’s like. You’ll know what it’s like to almost have something and then not. It’s the kind of feeling that eats away at you, Jihoon. The feeling of, ‘But what if I did more?’”

He merely rolled his eyes and called you dramatic.

That is, until he experienced it firsthand.

The first time ever was when he was doing a music competition for clarinet and compared himself to his bandmate, who received several achievements while Jihoon found that he simply didn’t have the body to be able to hold the same lung capacity.

Then he felt it: that driving force.

You both pushed yourselves further, to higher heights.

And it ended with him sick and bedridden.

And you, heartbroken and unsure of life.

The two of you would reprimand each other for trying too hard, but even with accountability, that envy, that desire for an indisputable win, that fear of failure, would still sneak its way into you both. You, with your academics. Him, with his musical endeavors.

For several years after their debut, at award shows, Jihoon would clap, the rhythmic beating of his hands echoing that in his chest, his smile lined with bitterness, his ears rang with the whispered voices.

‘Those people didn’t deserve it. You worked so much harder. These people don’t even produce their own music. Or maybe it’s because they have real producers and composers, unlike you. Who are you to think you deserve that award?’

One night, after another show of no wins, he collapsed onto his bed, unlocking his phone, intent on watching an anime episode before falling asleep. His members were discouraged and no one wanted to discuss what more they could even do.

Even if they did everything right, maybe it still would never be good enough.

When he opened up the YouTube app on his phone, he saw a recommended video. Your name written out in English caught his eye and he realized it was Part II of a podcast you had done with the channel before. It was a Korean-American podcast and you would share your experiences in the Korean language, connecting with your culture despite being in a foreign country.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he clicked on it, hoping to find comfort in a person he always had, in someone he probably always would.

Several minutes in and he realized just how thick that red string must be between the two of you.

“You know, I thought I undid a lot of my perfectionism before coming to college. Korea is the birthplace of comparison and pressure, I’m sure of it. It was ingrained into me from childhood. So, I did what I could. I got out. Learned to broaden my horizons. But when you attend a school like Yale, your environment really just kinda forces you to be perfect just so that you can survive. Because if you’re not, then you’re cut.”

He thought back to his trainee days.

To his current days.

How similar.

“I remember being at an event where we were being presented awards for our achievements. I remember that I was in the running for one of them, and I won’t say which one so this doesn’t come back to bite me. But at this one event, I remember no other guests were invited, only the nominees and peers in the same field. And when they announced the winner, everyone applauded, of course. However, I won’t ever forget the sight that I saw.”

You chewed on your lips, gazing upward trying to find the right words to say, a habit you’ve had for years.

“The winner had the biggest grin on their face, proud of themselves, as they are allowed to be. But when they turned back to the crowd? I think they saw something. I think they saw that our smiles were forced, that we were judging them, judging ourselves, trying to determine whether they actually deserved the recognition or whether we should have been the ones to win. And… their smile faltered. It was quick, but it was noticeable. And I think the only reason why it even faltered was because it was only those of us who were nominated or could have been. Like, it’s easy to cheer on someone for a prize that you didn’t want, but as soon as you have stakes in the game? Well. That’s a whole different story. But when they lost that smile, it felt like something shattered.”

Your eyes welled up with tears, but they didn’t fall.

“They say it’s lonely at the top. I haven’t been there in a long time, but. I don’t even know if that’s where I want to be. These people have done super cool things, and who’s to say that I would’ve gotten the same results if I had tried? And maybe, maybe they have enough competitors. Maybe they need someone who celebrates them. Someone who knows the hardships of working in this field. And maybe that’s what I can do. I just want to do what I love and what I love doing is social work. Celebrating other people. Learning their stories. Not saving the world, but trying to make it into one that might be worth saving. If I happen to get recognized because of doing those things and they give some kind of trophy for it, then alright. But that’s just a byproduct of the greatest award I’ve already given myself, which is just letting myself do what I love.”

And those were words he carried with him as he went to bed that night.

When they won their first award. Their first Bonsang. Their first Daesang.

Award shows were weird.

It was all about performance.

Performing on stage, prepped through sound-check, clean-cut choreography, and pre-recorded live vocals to grab the audience’s attention.

Performing when at their designated table, giving reactions at a timely rate for both the fancams and large screen cameras.

Performing when behind the stage, being the best hoobae or sunbae they needed to be, adapting to whatever situation they may be placed in.

He knew how to perform. He was good at it.

It was why he’s in this industry.

But there are some things that don’t warrant worrying about an audience.

As he watched the seven members of BTS walk towards the stage, reaching for their Daesang. He clapped to match the rhythm in his chest, sure and steady, at ease. His smile, genuine and wide. The voice in his head, not unlike yours mixed with his own, provided gentle comfort.

‘They deserved it. They worked hard, just like you did. Their ability to collaborate with other musicians is astounding. It would be an honor to work with them. And you, too, have won, you’ve given yourself the greatest award by continuing to do what you love.’

──────────────────

Jihoon once again found himself at the recording studio, however, at a more reasonable time. He was trying to finalize all of the details on the songs for their comeback album, so he was spending his days in the recording studio and ending it in the dance studio, fully exhausted to where he would only have enough energy to shower and trudge back to his bedroom, just to pass out on his bed.

He heard the door to his room open but didn’t make an effort to turn around.

“How’s the song coming along?”

“The album is nearly complete—”

“No, the solo one.”

Jihoon finally glanced up at Seungcheol who now stood beside him. “I haven’t had as much time to work on it. Why?”

“No, I just wanted to check in with you.”

“You’re a good leader, hyung,” he said quietly.

Seungcheol clicked his tongue. “Of course, I am. But I’m mostly just curious because you’ve never written a song about her specifically that only had you singing it.”

“…that’s not true.”

“What? Which one?”

“The first song I ever wrote.”

“Oh what? What was it?”

Jihoon shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s an old song that I think only I remember anyway, plus, I only had vocals at the time. No instruments or anything.”

“…huh. What was it about?”

──────────────────

You wiped your snot away from your face, unable to differentiate between mucus and tears. Your unrelenting sobs weakened to light shudders.

His voice carried from above you, his hand entangled in your messy knots as he rubbed soothing circles against your temple. You curled yourself further into the tear-stained pillow he so lovingly dubbed, “Y/N’s Breakdown Headrest” which also doubled as “Y/N’s Punching Bag” when your emotions were forged from fire and not a dam that couldn’t hold anymore of the taunts and cruelty from your own parents.

His thigh was a mere hair’s breadth away from grazing the top of your head. He had a tendency to bounce his leg, one you continuously called him out on, but he wouldn’t ever stop his bad habit.

That is, unless you needed him to.

And he always gave you what you needed.

So, he sang to you a song of hopes and dreams and the magic of forever and always. Lyrics of never-ending friendship and pinky promises.

──────────────────

Jihoon paused, wondering how you comforted yourself now, wondering if you now had a Breakdown Headrest 2.0, before he spoke again. “It’s about what all the songs I write are about. Love. Although, more lowkey, not as direct.”

“Love and her are synonymous to you, aren’t they?”

“She’s the one who taught me most of it,” Jihoon said nonchalantly. “A truly honest and genuine form of it.”

“Wow, how romantic of you,” Seungcheol laughed.

Jihoon rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you know I only have the patience to tolerate all of you guys because of her. She believes it’s her divine mission to be as annoying as possible.”

“She sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, she’s taught me how to be patient and remain calm. But she was also incredibly patient with me. Honestly, it feels like all the things that make me likable are all from her.”

Seungcheol made a “oOooOooOOOooOOooo~” noise before Jihoon got fed up and kicked him out. Of course, his reprieve was short lived as more and more members flocked into his room, a constant moving traffic of his twelve brothers.

He imagined you meeting them.

With Seungcheol, you would probably tease him relentlessly, trying to come up with new names for the S. Coups game, while also thanking him for being so protective and steadfast, praising him for his taste in emo music and asking him to sing My Chemical Romance with you.

With Jeonghan, you both would sneak off to devise plans on how to create chaotic dynamics in between the members and cause more infighting while eating stolen snacks or spend hours just sitting around, doing fuck all, because why not.

With Jisoo, you both would speak in English (with you affectionately calling him by his English name “Joshua!”), sharing music as well as probably arguing between Los Angeles and New York, since that was a common feud topic Jisoo brought up.

With Jun, you would try to get as many reactions out of him as possible or get him to write down the list of all of the authentic Chinese restaurants around Korea or you would sit with him at a piano and watch as he played OSTs to Chinese dramas, applauding all the while starry-eyed.

With Soonyoung, you both would either be each other’s soulmates or the banes of each others’ existence, both fiery and passionate; however, you were always good at matching the energies of those around you, so you would let him ebb and flow while you merely followed, likely to call him, “Hoshingi,” just as Jeonghan does, and you would probably love caring for him the same way you did with elementary school students.

With Wonwoo, you would watch him play his PC games, probably in awe of his prowess or you would discuss lyricism and poetry, both exchanging flowery words for no reason as you would try to pick his brain as to what really lies beneath the surface, whether he truly is as straightforward as he seems, and be intensely satisfied that he simply is as he is.

With Seokmin, likely to sweetly call him “DK~”, you would ask him to sing for you since you loved Broadway style voices, and since you both were so generous with your kindness, there would be no doubt that the two of you would somehow manage to start up a non-profit that manages to eradicate all the bad in the world.

With Mingyu, you would discuss filming and the latest movies to watch and you would ask him how he finds the motivation to do many different hobbies at once especially when busy with being an idol; you would probably try to trick him into listening to you tell ghost stories as if they happened to you.

With Minghao, you would share your favorite poets and philosophical ideas, sharing the life lessons that you two have learned and realized you managed to hack life’s code at a younger age than most, you both realized the real importance of being alive: contentment and love.

With Seungkwan, you would probably be laughing so hard at his wit that you wouldn’t have much time to breathe, you would try to figure out how exactly he managed to memorize so much information surrounding K-Pop and why exactly he was so passionate about it or if neither of those, you would ask him if he could get you the plug for those Jeju hallabong oranges.

With Hansol, you would call him “Vernonz,” since you loved names that began with the letters V and Z, and ask him about his parents once you found out they were both artists, and you two would definitely discuss the effects of late-stage capitalism and social media on humanity.

With Chan, you would do your best not to baby him, but you hold a lot of fondness for those younger than you, you would try to figure out how he is so particular about his attention to detail and whether it is something that is pressuring him (and if there was some way you could alleviate it).

He imagined you there, integrated into his life again. He imagined you showing authentic interest in every one of his precious members, unlike most interviewers they would be forced to interact with every comeback. You would learn all of their names, find out their favorite foods, the best way to make everyone collectively laugh, and ultimately, how to help all of them feel comfortable around you and inevitably love you.

And once they did, he could say that his most beloved people were finally all together.

He fell in love with you, but you’re the one who taught him how to walk into it with his eyes wide open. So, he did it with his members. It took practice, having to actively choose them. With you, it may have always been a choice, but it was as natural as breathing, even if there were times he felt like he was being suffocated (or wanted to suffocate you).

He remembered the first time he became aware of it. Most people talk about how love comes, there was always talk about rose-tinted glasses and how it softened the world around them, unable to forget the brilliant smile on their face, but no. You always shattered expectations.

From anyone else’s standards, his realization came at an inopportune time. But it was so clear. It wasn’t as though you had sparkles around you as you emitted a warm glow, it wasn’t as though your hair was perfectly touched up with no strand out of place, it wasn’t as though you were perfectly dolled-up with eyes lined and lips colored. No. It was just… you.

And that's when he knew.

Because there was no filter to block the sheer clarity he was hit with when he finally accepted he was in love with you.

──────────────────

When Jihoon saw your crying form, a slurry of words filled with concern and instructions were the only thing leaving his mouth as he packed his things up. He only deviated once he gave a quick farewell to his noona who left with her dad.

Jihoon bit his lip. Would you be okay? Maybe he’ll just rush home now and shower then call you later at night. Or maybe he should go prepare his bedroom if you decide to visit. Yes. He should do that.

Jihoon turned on his heel to make his way back home, his newfound mission resounding in his mind.

However, your cousin’s voice reached his ears, “Wait—Jihoon, I can give you a ride.”

He looked back at him, saw the way your shoulders still trembled, and shook his head firmly. His fist clenched, the baseball preventing his nails from biting into his palms. He spun it once. Twice. And up into the air.

“Here, firefly.”

You caught it by instinct.

Your gaze met his.

He felt his heart ache at the sheer brokenness apparent in your eyes, rimmed with red and puffed skin. He grit his teeth. He hasn’t seen you cry this hard since the day your parents told you that your number two class ranking was nothing to be proud of and that they expected more from you.

His jaw clenched so hard, he heard an audible bite.

“Why are you giving me this?”

Your voice sounded so soft, like a child. A visceral instinct within him wanting to lull you into a peaceful rest with a lullaby.

But he wouldn’t do that.

Because that would be embarrassing.

(That was a future Jihoon problem.)

“It’s your win today.”

He much preferred the look of confusion on your face to the look of agony you held just a few moments ago.

“Huh?”

He swallowed thickly, his brain unable to keep up with the words tumbling from his mouth. “Even when you feel like you’ve lost, even when you feel like you have nothing to gain, just the fact that you’re still here, that’s a win. So. Scream. Cry. You can do what you want. It’s your win.”

Your gaze trailed down to the baseball, too large to wrap your fingers around entirely. It was probably much denser than you thought it would be, the weight foreign in your hands, unlike his.

You sniffled.

A soft smile formed on your lips.

And Jihoon realized he preferred that look on your face than any other he’s seen.

Pretty.

He rapidly turned on his heel before he even gave a second to try and unpack that thought.

The weight of his baseball gear was really doing a number on his heart, he realized belatedly.

That night, he didn’t prepare his room. He didn’t even call you.

(Not that you reached out.)

He merely stared up at his ceiling, his heart in a constant flux of rapidly beating or stopping completely.

He groaned loudly as he played through the day’s earlier events, thinking himself stupid for giving you a fucking baseball. You don’t even like sports. Did he think he sounded cool when he said all of that cringey stuff?

It’s your win?

But despite the feeling of wanting to curl in on himself, he couldn’t help but still agree with his earlier self.

You did win his heart, after all.

(He threw his pillow at the wall.)

──────────────────

“You’ve been liking her posts more easily.”

Jihoon merely grunted as he tapped away at his computer, Soonyoung on the couch beside him. “I decided to just… stop overthinking. Well, more like just stop thinking in general. I’m too tired to try and pretend I’m smarter than I actually am.”

Soonyoung raised an eyebrow. “You got it bad for her.”

Jihoon glared at him, who was scrolling through his (Jihoon’s) phone. “Be careful what you say. For the amount of songs that are about her, she covers basically 60% of your salary.”

Soonyoung laughed. “Guess I owe her a lot, huh? If she didn’t up and leave, you wouldn’t have come here and we would’ve never met. So, I guess I’m grateful to her. Plus. She’s cute.”

“She’s more than that.”

“Yeah. I can tell,” Soonyoung went quiet for a moment. “She… A part of me really doesn’t want to trust her. I keep remembering that day, you know. Where you just… didn’t seem like yourself. Barely there—” Jihoon cringed at the recalled memory. “—but she also just seems so genuine that it makes it hard. I want to be your bro, you know? Bro code and all—”

“I never asked you to do that.”

“—And I’m nothing if not a bro. But I don’t think you’re the type of person to be hung up on someone who’s not trustworthy. Like. You lose interest in people easily if you don’t see them on a regular basis. But her? It’s been years, bro.”

“Okay, bro.”

“Just letting you know I support you in your decisions,” Soonyoung stated, but there was an edge to his voice that sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than Jihoon. “If she’s really who you say she is. If she’s the one who’s captured that stubborn heart of yours. Then I’ll do everything I can to help you out—Oh, she posted again. Wow. She posts often and yet still gets over a thousand likes. It hasn’t even been a day. Oh wow!”

Jihoon twitched but tried not to show his eagerness. “What?”

“They’re doing a donation drive for the group home that she works with. Ey, how can someone who does volunteer work to help kids and teens be a bad person? Jihoon, are you kidding me?”

“Young-ah, you’re the one who said it, not me—”

“So close-minded, Hoon.”

Jihoon rolled his computer chair over to Soonyoung, snatched his phone back, and smacked the annoying gnat’s hand in the process. Soonyoung yelped in pain, but laughed it off. He saw your post (noticed that Soonyoung ‘liked it for him’) and a figurative lightbulb lit up over his overworked head.

“This looks like something Bumzu-hyung would post on his story. Maybe I can ask him to share it. Oh, but this is her private page. Oh wait. She tagged the group home.”

“Thanks for the play-by-play.”

Jihoon ignored him and clicked the profile to see they had the exact same e-flyer post. But he knew that you’d probably notice there was an influx of donations (hardly anything got by you) and he didn’t want to bombard you with unsolicited help.

But it’s for a good cause!

But he might be trespassing on her territory.

Everyone cares about youth and kids!

This group home wouldn’t have even caught his eye had it not been for you.

He groaned inwardly. “I don’t know whether I should ask Bumzu to reshare or what—”

“Dude, just ask her if you can share it and then wait for her reply. It’s not like there’s only a one day donation thing.”

Jihoon blinked at Soonyoung. “You’re right.”

Soonyoung immediately sat up straighter, pulling out his own phone from his pocket. He opened up his voice memo app. “Say that again, I need to record that so I can set it as my ringtone.”

Soonyoung pressed the Record button, extended his phone receiver to Jihoon, who leaned in promptly and said:

“Fuck off, Kwon Soonyoung.”

──────────────────

“Kwon Soonyoung, what the hell are you doing?”

“What do you mean? It’s not like I planned this.”

Jihoon glared at the boy before him who was somehow wearing matching clothes again. He specifically came home after rehearsal to change into something different and yet, here he was, matching with this endless energy ball. Jihoon specifically changed out of his all-black garment to choose a long, plain blue button-down overshirt and ripped, dark jeans. Something different from his usual style of a t-shirt and shorts.

Yet, there Soonyoung was, in nearly the same outfit, minus the overshirt being a blue flannel.

“I think this just means that we’re soulmates, Jihoon-ah.”

Jihoon pulled back his fist as if to hit Soonyoung, but the latter didn’t flinch at all, only laughed at the expense of his friend. The other members were downstairs waiting for them so Jihoon didn’t have enough time to change out of the outfit. And it felt almost ridiculous to give this more attention than it deserves, as if he was losing by admitting that it bothered him to the point of needing to change clothes.

But Kwon Soonyoung, the man that he was, would not let him live it down.

“Wow, we look like a couple. We should go on dates, huh? Get some sushi or–ack!”

The shorter of the two pressed his foot against the back of the other’s knee and Soonyoung nearly came crashing down had it not been for his instincts to catch himself.

Jihoon huffed down the stairs, shaking his head at the situation and readying himself to be made fun of by his members. Once he got through that door, it was game over.

And he was right.

Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Dino were the ones who rallied the rest of the group to heckle, which only added insult to injury, as those three were the ones who had the longest rap sheet to make fun of. Jihoon kept his disgusted face on as Soonyoung wrapped his arms around his shoulders, announcing to (what seemed like) the world about how he’s ‘matching with his best friend.’

Jihoon came back with a slew of half-hearted insults at the rest of his members, but they unfortunately outnumbered him. He is rarely on the receiving end of this level of teasing, but he was dragged into it thanks to Soonyoung, who was eating it up.

Even in the midst of it all, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel thankful that he even had someone to accidentally match with who would wear it with such pride and not shy away from it. Sure, it might seem dumb and annoying, but it reminded him that he could have that kind of playful relationship with others outside of you. He had other friends in school or at baseball, sure, but none were as comfortable, as relentlessly fun. He thought there would never be another you.

And there never was, but that feeling of acceptance, of joy, of gratitude.

He was able to find it outside of you.

Which was a heartbreaking realization before, but now he only hopes you’ve done the same.

And mere hours after his own outfit debacle, Jihoon sees your instagram story to find you accidentally matching with Hyejin, her making the same face that he did not too long ago. But you had a shit-eating grin, no doubt proud of causing a disruption in your friend’s life.

Your caption read: “oh, you and your soulmate are tied by a single, red thread? that’s nothing compared to the matching threads we got on right now. eat your heart out, makoto shinkai.”

Beneath it in smaller letters: “if you can’t tell by her face, this was not planned at all, but man, am i really rolling with it.”

Jihoon snorted at the serendipity of it all.

Perhaps the string of fate really isn’t just a single thread.

──────────────────

It was a rare day in which Jihoon found himself at home.

Which meant he had a lot of time to think about you.

(You replied to him. He shouldn’t have been so surprised. But he was, pleasantly so. Of course, it included a thumbs up emoji which was the visual manifestation of the acquaintance zone, but he would take what he could get.)

Album preparations were underway, and although there is a part of him that feels as though he should be scrambling, especially as their anniversary date was literally tomorrow, he thought back to a voice from his youth.

Years ago, he laid in his childhood bed, struck with a nasty fever from pushing his immune system too far by attempting to balance school and various music competitions. There was a half-asleep you, exhausted by misplaced guilt, with your fingers intertwined with his, who said: Jihoonie, Koreans always say ‘fighting’. I told you that this morning, and I knew you weren’t feeling well. I could’ve stopped you. And now here you are. I said ‘fighting,’ but why? Why do we have to fight? Life isn’t a battle to win. You don’t have to overcome anything, okay? You can just lay here and be with me. Please don’t get sick again. Please remember to rest. Some days, it’s okay to just be.

So, here he was. Simply being.

Whenever massive events (like SEVENTEEN’s six year anniversary) happened, he made sure to spend the 24 hours prior doing nothing than just being, to gain enough energy to last the following day.

Otherwise, the nagging guilt would get to him.

You were always weaving stories with even the thinnest of threads. Your knack for adding dramatic flair, amping it up to eleven, was a nightmare sometimes. For example, when he got sick and you kept repeating that you should’ve said something instead of letting him go on stage only to nearly faint afterwards. You took on too much responsibility for things outside of your control, which only caused you to lose your grip on what you actually could.

His chest tightened at the thought of you losing your grip completely. There were very few things in life that terrified him, but you potentially ending yours was one that plagued him until he learned how to remain steady when you were feeling unsure, and even still, it tore him up inside. But he knew that it wasn’t his battle to face; he wasn’t meant to save you. You reminded him of that time and time again, so instead, he learned how to let you live the life you weren’t sure you wanted. He observed warily.

As a teenager, he knew just how bad these thoughts could get for people at that age. He knew how people fell prey to the lies that they were unworthy of life and love.

So, he simply tried to be as honest as possible. He would do his best to not invalidate your experience, but he refused to enable those insidious feelings. He would come off as abrasive, he was sure, but your ability to detect bullshit was like no other. Your parents had a big hand in that. So, instead, he was truthful in his own way, in his own language, one that you learned to understand.

A few years ago, you did a two-part YouTube podcast at Yale. The first one was released a couple of months prior to the second, and he’s sure at least one hundred of the views are from SEVENTEEN (not all him, his members also took away a lot from your words).

He listened to that podcast time and time again. He heard the life in your voice, the curiosity of the future outweighing the pain of the past. You said that life was, at first, a means to be with the people you loved. But you slowly came to believe that life was something that you would choose to love every single day, and so you did.

He hoped that you still did, but trusted that, if there were days that would come where you did not, you would reach out to someone to wait with you until the storm passed and you could choose to love again.

His chest filled with pride thinking about how far you’ve come.

But he couldn’t help but wish there were some things that remained from back then.

That glimmer of hope spurred him to become mindful of the object he was fiddling with in his hands. He held up a bracelet of years ago, hardly worn by time or by him. He wasn’t sure whether he was still allowed to. It was one-half of a pair, but if its partner no longer existed, then.

However, he never had the desire to throw it away.

The metal charms felt both foreign and at home in his hands as he fiddled with them, the faint clicking sound of the chain barely registering as his mind was in an entirely different place. His eyes focused once again on the charm of the sun caught between his fingers.

If only catching you was as simple, he mused.

Jihoon sighed and covered his eyes, desperately trying not to cringe at his internal monologue, habitually reaching for the Chopper plushie that you gifted him years ago, squeezing the body to diffuse the embarrassment he felt.

He remembered when he saw the charms at some random shop he heard about from others and thought you would enjoy, so he decided to scope it out in advance for the two of you. It was easy, on his way home after spending a few hours on his own to rehearse his clarinet, a regular occurrence.

Although there was no doubt the two of you gravitated towards each other, you both valued your independence and alone time.

──────────────────

“We’re giving us the chance to miss each other, Jihoonie.”

“Who said I’d ever miss you?”

“Well, gosh darn. Guess I’ll cover for you and miss you twice as much.”

“…You’re dumb.”

“Yes. Can I have some of your fries?”

──────────────────

He retaliated by taking the ketchup bottle and squeezing them all over the tray of fries and you immediately retracted, believing that fries should be dipped in its respective sauce (unless they were loaded fries, of course, which warranted using a utensil of sorts).

He chuckled to himself. Fifteen was one of the most turbulent years of his life, but there were plenty of moments (like fries drowning in ketchup) that reminded him it wasn’t all intense.

Your fifteenth year started off with that charm bracelet.

Two weeks before then, you were so moody that he nearly gave you your birthday gift earlier than he intended, just so he wouldn’t have to see you be so upset (for which, he has only a vague remembrance of what could have made you so upset). Of course, it might have been easier if he had simply brought up his concern and asked how you were, but he knew you would have brushed it off as nothing.

He paused.

Did he know that though?

Or did he just assume?

He clicked his tongue, annoyed at his own self-reflection.

Communication was easy in theory.

Application, however.

He often found it difficult, matching your pace.

You were always so quick.

Quick-witted.

Quick to anger.

Quick to assume.

Quick to run away.

He heard a soft knock at his bedroom door (which meant it wasn’t Mingyu or Soonyoung) and he grunted in response. The door slowly opened (that ruled out Seungcheol and Chan) and revealed who decided to greet him in such a manner.

Ah, he was right.

“Woozingi~”

“Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Jeonghan moved to sit at the edge of Jihoon’s bed, with his legs crossed. “The members are wanting to get dinner tonight altogether since we have a schedule tomorrow. The staff said they’ll pay since it’s our six years.”

This had Jihoon propping himself upright. “Barbecue?”

Jeonghan snickered. “Yeah, it’ll be good to get ready in a few hours. But I just wanted to stop by and tell you in person since I know you like to mute the group chat.”

“That’s because it’s constantly going off,” Jihoon grumbled.

“Yes, that happens when people are trying to have a conversation, Jihoon-ah. You should try it sometimes. Especially since it sounds like you have communication issues.”

Jihoon winced. “Hyung. Your timing is terrible.”

“No, it’s impeccable. Just not for you. Anyway, a word of advice.”

“Hm.”

“You don’t have to fear rejection anymore,” Jeonghan started, slowly, the words seeming almost foreign in his mouth. “Regardless of what happens with her, you have people in your life that care about you as you are. You don’t have to try and match her. I don’t want you to subconsciously fall back into a habit of appeasing her because you’re afraid of scaring her away again.”

Jihoon blinked slowly. “I wasn’t expecting actual advice, so I’m a little stunned right now.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “I’m gonna be honest. The other members told me to come talk to you because the rest are either too scared or don’t know what to say.”

“Hah, we’re back to our trainee days, huh?”

Jeonghan grinned, probably recalling the amount of times that he was the emotional support pillar of the boys before they each learned to open up to each other. “Speaking of, I remember when I first met you. You were a teen with a cold-hearted exterior and a lot of opinions as well as the weight of the world on your shoulders. You had the responsibility to carry the music of twelve other guys and you had just lost something that was precious to you. You threw yourself into your work and that became your identity.”

“I—”

“I know you’re not that way anymore, but I’m just reminding you that, no matter what happens with her, no matter how she may respond, you aren’t that cold teenager who had to bear the weight all on your own. You’ve grown and are surrounded by people who can help ease the load.” Jeonghan paused for a moment. “Also, if I could think of a member who laughs easily at anything, you are one of the first that comes to mind. So, it concerns me that you haven’t been laughing lately, even when Mingyu accidentally sneezed out his ramyeon noodles—“ Jihoon snorted at the memory from last night. “—and, if I can assume anything about her, I don’t think she’d be very honored to know that it’s because of her. So. Come back to us, Jihoon. If she’s really meant to be in your life, she can match your rhythm. Don’t leave us in the dust.”

“Is this a long-winded way of saying ‘bros before hoes’?”

Jeonghan burst into laughter. “Maybe so!”

──────────────────

“Our Jihoonie~”

The teenage boy grunted in response, shooting up a look at one of the older members. “Is there something that you need, hyung?”

“You speak so formally, it’s off-putting.”

“That’s because someone refuses to act his age.”

“What a tough Busan guy,” Jeonghan teased.

Jihoon’s face twitched.

“Bumzu-hyung is looking for you. Said he wanted to finish up some more lessons.”

“Agh. I knew he was going to have criticisms. I’m barely getting a grip on this music production stuff, so I don’t even know if what I’m making is good enough to sell. Everyone might hate it.”

“Even if everyone else hates your music, just know I’m one of your biggest fans.”

“...If my music is hated, then we won’t make any money, which means you’ll be poor. What? Is it your dream to become poor?”

Jihoon expected Jeonghan to laugh and tell him that he was right and that money mattered. But instead, Jeonghan replied, “Jihoon. Your music is good. And if we don’t make money because other people aren’t able to see it. Then what’s the point? You say that it’s your responsibility as to whether SEVENTEEN succeeds or not, but, we’re thirteen members. Three units. One team. We’re SEVENTEEN. Stop acting like it’s all about you. Maybe my dream used to be becoming rich. But now, it’s just doing this. With all of us.”

──────────────────

Jihoon stared at his hands, at the charm bracelet. “Is it selfish to want this life and her as well?”

“Maybe it is. But, so what if you’re selfish?”

“Isn’t being selfish supposed to be a bad thing?”

“Just hope that she’s as selfish as you are,” Jeonghan shrugged. “By wanting her in your life, does that mean you want to be with her romantically?”

Jihoon paused. “You know, I’m not sure. I think I would be over the moon if we could even just be a part of each other’s lives. To have that line of communication open. But as the people that we are now. I think I’d like to meet the new Y/N. She probably has more in common with the new Lee Jihoon than the old her anyway.”

“You two have grown apart, aren’t you worried?”

Jihoon went silent for a moment, trying to pick out the right words. “Rather than grown apart, it feels like we’ve simply grown in separate spaces, by taking different routes, but our lives seem too intertwined for our paths to never cross again. Plus, she’s one of the few people that I could really be myself around. It’d be nice to have another safe space like that outside of SEVENTEEN because who else can I complain about you all to, that wouldn’t cause conflict between us?”

“Ay. What is there to complain about?”

Jihoon gave his hyung a pointed look.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan started. “But be honest. Real talk. You really think she wouldn’t spread it to Dispatch?”

“She has always valued people’s stories more than anything, so it really annoyed her when other people would take out-of-context excerpts and twist them. So. That’s how I know she wouldn’t spread it. Also, if she was that kind of person, she would’ve done so by now. She has a ton of blackmail material on me.”

Jeonghan chuckled. “Interesting. You said she likes stories, so is she a writer like you?”

“Not in the traditional sense. She’s more of a speaker than a writer. In high school, of course, she had her awkward moments like everybody else did, but even then, she was a tier above the rest. I don’t know how to say this kindly, but she doesn’t really think before she talks, but she doesn’t usually have to because what comes out is almost always what she intended.”

“So, she must be eloquent then.”

Jihoon clicked his tongue. “Just because things come out as she intended doesn’t mean she wouldn’t intentionally be mean or annoying.”

──────────────────

“You like unnie, don’t you?”

Jihoon spluttered. Shit, shit, shit. He tried to gather his thoughts, but failed. He wasn’t good with spontaneous spoken words, that was always your realm of expertise. He needed time to think of the right thing to say, but you never waited for him. “F-Firefly, I—”

You barked out a laugh, and he nearly retaliated at the harshness. He wasn’t sure why exactly you were being so harsh. “Hey, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. She’s pretty high up there, above us mortals. From now on, I’ll do my best to help you out, yeah? That’s what best friends are for. Plus, you’re like family, like a brother to me, so.”

Jihoon sank back.

Family? Brother?

He wondered why that left a bitter taste in his mouth. But that didn’t make any sense. Wasn’t being called family the highest praise?

So why the hell did that piss him off?

Instead of speaking his actual thoughts, his mouth had a mind of its own. “I can handle myself, Y/N.”

You sneered at him.

God, you were so infuriating sometimes.

She wasn’t like that.

She was the soothing waves of Busan, ebb and flow, constant and expected. She was everything you weren’t. She was older, more experienced, graceful, calm, soothing.

She was beautiful.

But she didn’t have that burning fire you did. Didn’t have him reacting the way you managed to every time you opened your damn mouth or rolled your eyes—there you went again!

What the hell was wrong with you?

Rapid escalation, raised voices. You, accusing him of not trusting your judgment and hiding his crush from you, saying that you wished he trusted you. Him, arguing that he didn’t need to share every little thing, that it wasn’t about his trust for you at all, and that God, he did! He did trust you! Of course, he did!

So, why didn’t he tell you about the stupid crush?

It wasn’t that deep, but you were convinced it was, and he was too tired to even try and correct you. So, sure, he could be “in love” with his noona, like you believed. Because then he wouldn’t have to untangle the mess in his chest. He could shove it under the rug like he always had, always would.

You slammed your fists down onto the table before you walked away from him, in a rampage. Like a damn wildfire trying to clear everything in sight.

You were a volatile thing, explosive, even.

But.

You fizzled out just as fast.

He awoke around midnight to the soft knocking at his window, your silhouette perched on the thickest branch the tree outside his childhood home had to offer. He had half a mind to not open the glass pane but he saw you shiver and his body leaped out of bed without a second thought.

“I’m sorry, Jihoonie,” you said, a few moments after you clambered into his room.

“Okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for being friends with me anyway.”

“Sure.”

So, he wrapped your favorite blanket around you, the one he kept in his room for nights like this. Color slowly returned to your face and he saw the stains of tears on your cheek in the moonlight. You muttered words of apologies and told him about your day, not having the chance to earlier.

You were better like this, quiet, but not silent. Like a crackling fireplace beckoning all to come and listen, to be enveloped in warmth and light.

He never once called you his family.

But he’d be damned if you weren’t his home.

──────────────────

“Funny enough, despite the fact that she’s more of a speaker than a writer, even more than that, she’s a listener. She listens to more stories than she tells them. I think that’s helped with her pride. If she knew she messed up, she would always apologize, even if she hated doing it.”

“Well, that’s one lesson you haven’t learned from her yet.”

Jihoon pulled a face and Jeonghan laughed in response. The older of the two snatched away the Chopper on the opposite end and started throwing the doll up and down.

“Alright, lover boy. What I got from this conversation is that you’re still in love with her, but you gotta make sure she’s worthy of your love, alright? Heed my warning, don’t be afraid of being rejected by her. It’s already happened anyway, and here you are: world-star idol with twelve bros behind you no matter what.”

Jihoon cracked a smile. “You’re right. I got lucky.”

Jeonghan tossed Chopper back in his original vicinity. “I think Dokyeomie wanted to ask something from you too, but I don’t remember what it was, so maybe you can go get ready and he’ll come find you.”

“What a useless messenger.”

“Your luck can’t be perfect, Jihoon-ah,” Jeonghan quipped. He turned to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. “I hope to hear her story one day. Hear her side of things.”

“…Me too, hyung.”

──────────────────

“How much is the corn dog?”

“Hmm… Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

Jihoon mustered as much displeasure as he could hold in his six-year-old body. “Y/N, you can’t pay with stories, that’s stupid.”

“It’s my shop!”

“Jihoon, we’re just playing pretend,” your cousin added, his eyes darting between the two of you, likely worried about needing to do damage control.

“Hyung, her idea is dumb!”

“Why!” You whined. “People pay with money all the time, but you can get money whenever! I don’t get to hear stories! I like stories! My parents don’t read to me every night like yours do, Jihoon!”

Jihoon stomped out of the playroom in annoyance, ears grated by the sound of your crying and your cousin’s failed attempts to console you. Stories couldn’t buy the new toy race car that he got. Stories couldn’t buy him candy at the corner market near the kindergarten. Stories couldn’t buy a GameBoy.

Stories didn’t matter.

Money mattered.

Still, nearly a decade later, you never failed to ask for your unconventional form of payment every time he took a portion of your lunch. He knew you packed more for him anyway. And he knew you would always ask for a story in return.

And he intentionally packed smaller meals so he could tell you about how the History teacher had botched up his classmate’s test and accidentally graded off by one, about how the clarinet solo he was learning required a finger pattern he wasn’t used to, about how that one guy—oh, the tennis player?—no, no, the flautist—isn’t it flutist?—it doesn’t matter—yes, it does, Jihoon—anyway, he asked out a girl—the senior?—yes—oh wow, how bold.

And you would smile in return, sliding your food choice of the day within his reach.

He learned that you hated money; it was the one and only thing your parents ever gave you consistently. Simply, it was the manifestation of their love (or lack of) for you.

So, he paid you with recountings of the mundane. You never complained, even when he felt as though his storytelling skills were lackluster. He held your rapt attention; your eyes wide with wonder, voice laced with curiosity.

Eventually, he asked you why.

Why stories?

“Because without them, I wouldn’t have learned that you love the X-Men series because of Hugh Jackman, that you prefer winter over summer, that the first ever K-Pop group you listened to was Brown Eyed Girls, that when you tell me a funny story, you wait until I react before you start laughing.”

And you gave him that smile that made his heart stutter.

“Money is everywhere, Jihoon. But there’s only one you. That’s all there is to it. People, at the core of it all, are just stories. So. That’s why. People will always matter more than profit.”

──────────────────

After Jihoon readied himself for the group dinner, he plopped himself down onto the communal couch and found himself scrolling through Instagram. He stopped at your latest post, a candid shot of you reading a children’s book to several six-year-olds, your face aglow with excitement, a high chance the photographer captured you mid-way through some silly voice attributed to the character on the page.

“Hey, hyung.”

“Hm?”

“Can I borrow your microphone for the day?”

Jihoon didn’t even have the chance to think twice before the words left his mouth, “Tell me your favorite color and how it makes you feel.”

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room.

“Is… Is this a hidden-camera?”

“...never mind. Just put it back when you’re done.”

“It’s blue, by the way.”

“I don’t care—”

“It makes me feel happy because it’s the color of the sky and of the ocean, which means it can be super calm or super exciting. It’s also one of the colors of our Caratdeul.”

“Okay, Dokyeom-ssi. Get out.”

“Yes, hyung. Thank you.”

Jihoon thought about how, if given the chance, you would ask Seokmin if he liked the paleness of 9am or the depth of 6pm? If he liked the gentleness of serenity or the vibrancy of cerulean? Or if he appreciated all that the shades encompassed before fading into greens and indigos?

But he wasn’t you.

You were the inspiration; the muse.

You were the reason to write.

He was just a storyteller.

──────────────────

“THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO IS HERE. THANK YOU TO THE PLEDIS STAFF, OUR MANAGERS, OUR CHOREOGRAPHERS, OUR MUSIC TEAM, OUR DANCERS, OUR STYLISTS, OUR CAMERA WORKERS, OUR FAMILIES, AND OUR SEVENTEEN MEMBERS! HAPPY SIX YEARS. HERE’S TO MORE!”

Everyone in the rented out restaurant cheered before drinking together. Even the sound barrier breaking screams of Soonyoung wasn’t enough to dampen Jihoon��s pride and spirit over how far they’ve come as a team. He looked around at his table, several members already seemingly drunk, and couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Jihoon-ah, make an exception for tonight and drink!”

He shook his head fervently. “There’s going to be several of you who are going to regret drinking when we have our V LIVE tomorrow. You’re going to look super puffy.”

“I can already feel it,” Seungcheol laughed, his eyes slightly glazed. “But the food and the beer are too good to pass up.”

Speaking of, Jihoon made sure to snatch a piece of kalbi to put onto his plate before Mingyu could. The younger one gave him the stink-eye while Jihoon merely smirked and tilted his head back, challenging him. Mingyu decided to change his target and grab at Seungkwan’s piece, who promptly smacked his hand with a “Kim Mingyu!”

Laughter went around the table as they reflected on the last six years, the amount of embarrassing moments that were brought up were positively correlated with the amount of shots that were taken.

Jihoon grit his teeth as he tried not to fold in on himself, remembering how they threw him up as a cheer and nearly ended his life by creating a Jihoon-shaped hole in the ceiling. He was so much smaller back then, easier to launch without thinking.

They laughed about the incident where Mingyu was nearly beaten to death by Jihoon with a guitar, which Jihoon argued that he still believed he was in the right. They discussed one of their first performances as a team, where they performed NU’EST’s “Hello” and they all had helmet hair. They poked fun at Seungkwan for his revolutionary English skills when he said, “are you kimbap kidding?”

They’ve grown so much.

International interviews with BuzzFeed, Seventeen the magazine, and others. GOING SEVENTEEN as a show has grown alongside them, more than just showing Carats the behind-the-scenes, but has now turned to variety that garnered the new fanbase of Cubics, and has been an honest highlight to Jihoon’s career, where they can just go wild and laugh with each other, just as they always do.

They talked about how they used to sneak in food, how they used to help each other get ready for school, how they still have the same playful spirit as they did back then, but with more trust that has formed between them (although, less for Jeonghan since his cheating at games has only gotten worse).

Jihoon leaned back, full of food and laughter and gratitude.

He wouldn’t trade his life with his team for anything.

(Not even you.)

However, that didn’t mean Jihoon didn’t want you to be a part of his already complete life.

He was a selfish human being.

He hoped you would be one too.

──────────────────

May 26th.

Six years ago, “Adore U” came out, marking the beginning of the journey of a thirteen member boy idol group named SEVENTEEN.

Now, here he was, trying to not be bullied into drinking another shot of soju after already consuming several in a short period.

Their anniversary V LIVE ended not too long ago and they did not have a schedule the following day, so the team decided to celebrate on their own, playing Mafia and messing around. A few hours ago, Jihoon would’ve hardly been able to tolerate the noise level, but since his hearing has been compromised due to his heart beating so loudly in his ears from the alcohol, he was plenty fine.

He shooed away his members and retreated back into the corner of the room, pulling out his cellphone and ignoring Mingyu making stupid kissy faces and noises. Jihoon shot him a look of disgust, but Mingyu merely laughed it off and went to go bother his next victim, who seemed to be Boo Seungkwan, a prime choice indeed.

As soon as he refreshed his Instagram app, there you were (with a highlighted gradient ring around your profile picture, your head tilted back with a soft smile grazing your features as you took in the endless sky above you).

He clicked on the circle and saw you and your friends there, a dimmed photo but your collective smiles large and wide. He recognized Hyejin and Wheein easily (the former with a disgusted look apparent on her face and the latter with a deep dimple), as they were two friends who were a common occurrence on your feed.

And there you were.

alexa, play congratulations by post malone ft. quavo 🥳🎓 #PHinisheD

The corner of his lip quirked up at the cleverness in your caption.

Perhaps it was because of the alcohol in his system, he swiped up to send a message:

i figured u would be a day6 or eric nam kind of fan

His brain short-circuited.

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck.

Who was he to think he could directly message you like this? Also, who the hell was he to figure anything about you? He hasn’t even spoken to you. Jesus Christ, what has he done?

Before he could stop himself though, his thumbs decided to speak his thoughts.

sorry that was dumb of me to assume

of course u would like post malone considering u could rap the entirety of eminems album

What the hell, dude.

You were going to freak out and call him a creep and then block him.

You’ve literally never done that.

He tried to calm his heart.

However, not even ten minutes later, he realized he couldn’t take that risk.

sorry that was stupid

ignore me

congrats y/n

He felt nearly every goosebump that crawled along his skin, creeping up to his neck, threatening to choke him out. He breathed in deeply through his nose, hoping no one bears witness to him.

“Yah, Jihoon-ah.”

His eyes trailed up to see Soonyoung with a look of concern, mixed with a twinge of panic and anger.

Ah, it would be him.

“What did she do?”

──────────────────

For people who didn’t know him, Kwon Soonyoung comes off as, well, not-so-bright.

But that wasn’t (entirely) true.

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

He knew how to read a room, but oftentimes, he would purposely choose to simply do what he wanted anyway. Hardly did he ever prioritize another person’s comfort and complacency over his expression of his individuality. He knew what it took to be a performer, and he never denied himself the opportunity to be one.

So, him simply staring at his friend in silence with eyes that alone could have earned him his moniker of “Tiger’s Gaze,” was a major indicator that something was amiss.

Also, the fact that his friend was shrouded in near darkness, eyes rimmed with red, only a corner lamp illuminating his pale features.

“She went to America. She’s never fucking coming back.”

Soonyoung tried not to wince at his friend’s broken tone. Jihoon cursed like a sailor when they were trainees, but it was a habit that he slowly lost since he would often be reprimanded for his speech. He had to do the work to censor himself.

Well, the K-Pop industry was not a stranger to censorship, he mused.

“Wasn’t she already at an international school, though?”

“Yeah, but I just… I thought she would come back after graduating from that boarding school, you know? She wanted to go to Seoul National University, but. Fuck, dude. What if I’m the reason she stopped? What if she stopped following her dreams because of me? What if I–”

“She made her choice, Jihoon.”

“This is all my fault.”

“How?”

Soonyoung saw confusion flit across Jihoon’s face, but it quickly settled with a shake of his head. “It just is, alright?”

“Jihoon–”

“I’ll never be good enough for her. Fuck, I just thought if I tried, then maybe I could be, and– God, who do I think I am? Of course she’d never want someone like me–”

“Dude! Shut the fuck up, will you?”

Jihoon sat there in stunned silence.

“This might not even have anything to do with you. And if she really went to America because she’s trying to avoid you, then she’s a massive bitch–”

“Don’t fucking call her that–”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. Just like she’s doing whatever the hell she wants.” Soonyoung’s anger was slowly morphing into rage. Who was this person in front of him? He was so used to the sure, secure Lee Jihoon who would never truly get riled up.

But one mention of you and suddenly he would spiral.

Who the hell did you think you were?

Leaving this man who loved you so fucking wildly, to the point where he was just one moment away from begging on his knees for your return.

Soonyoung felt disgusted, but it was more of a ringing concern in his ears.

“Jihoon, you’re acting crazy right now. So what if she doesn’t come back to Korea? Are you gonna wait like a fucking sad dog out in the rain? Hoping that she’ll come pick you up again? You’re missing your own fucking life here.”

“I just–”

“Yeah, yeah, you love her. I get it. But… If she were to see you right now, do you think she would even want this kind of love? This obsessive, insecure kind?”

Jihoon’s face was now contorted in pain and Soonyoung tried so terribly hard to keep his face neutral. Soonyoung was plenty capable of being a soothing person, especially to his fellow members, but he was so riddled with frustration that he knew that he would come off as disingenuous if he even tried to pretend to be.

“Let her go. If she comes back, then she will. But don’t let her come back to someone who is incapable of even picking himself off of the floor.”

“...Okay.”

Kwon Soonyoung was aware.

Aware of how much Lee Jihoon was in love with you.

Painfully so.

──────────────────

“I just–”

“You just what?” Soonyoung’s eyes bore into his friend’s face.

Jihoon recoiled at his tone. “I replied to her Instagram story and it was some dumb comment, but what if she thinks I’m being too much and she backs off and–?”

“Jihoon-ah.”

“...Soonyoung-ah.”

“She’s human, right?”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow at that. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Then why are you acting like she’s this untouchable goddess? Who cares if she thinks you’re being too much? You’re putting her on a pedestal she probably doesn’t even want, dude.”

──────────────────

“Why’d you reject the guy?”

You glanced up at her best friend. “What’re you talking about?”

Jihoon cocked his head to the side. Was it already so quickly forgotten by you? It happened at lunch and it was kind of rowdy. Poor dude. “The guy who asked you out to the dance. You said you thought he was cute before and that he was good at tutoring math.”

“Yeah, I might know him, but he doesn’t know me.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I thought you guys tutored together.”

You clicked your tongue. “Yeah, we do, but. He doesn’t know me. I know him because I ask him questions. I ask him about himself. But he never once asked me a question about me. If he did, he would know that I hate public gestures. He would know that I don’t like receiving flowers. He didn’t even care to ask any of my friends about what I liked. The main reason as to why he asked me to go to the dance is probably because I made him feel good about himself. I might know him, but he doesn’t know me, and that’s one of the most annoying things.”

“What, that people don’t know you?”

“No. That people assume they know me.”

Jihoon paused for a moment.

“People think that I’m this super wholesome good kid who gets perfect grades.”

“Well, one of those things is true.”

You cracked a smile at that. “Yeah, well. The more people assume I’m on a different level from them, the lonelier it is. I just… I don’t want to be lonely, Jihoon.”

“It’s alright. I’ll make sure you aren’t.”

It was chilling, how your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, as if you knew a secret he didn’t, as if you already prophesied a future that rendered his words empty. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Lee Jihoon.”

──────────────────

Jihoon nearly bit his tongue.

Ever since he no longer had the security of having you be by his side, he became exactly like one of them, forcing assumptions onto you.

You were out of sight and he was out of his mind.

He told you that you could always be yourself around him, and here he was, creating a caricature of you in his head that he knew didn’t exist. To push forth the narrative he wrote. One born of insecurity. “...I don’t understand how you’ve been so right lately?”

“I really do wish I had my phone around to record you when you say that,” Soonyoung said off-handedly. “So, you’re not going to try to unsend those messages?”

“You can unsend messages?”

“Uh–”

Jihoon immediately unlocked his phone to go to his messages. There, he saw your chat. He long-pressed the message without much thought and his thumb hovered over it.

But he hesitated.

“...Just watching from afar isn’t enough for you anymore, is it?”

Jihoon stared up at his friend, who had a look of (almost) pity etched across his features. Jihoon swallowed the lump in his throat. “...No. I don’t think it is.”

“Well, if she rejects you in any kind of way, I can comfort you.”

“No thanks.”

“Yeah, thought you’d say that.”

──────────────────

Almost exactly sixty minutes later, Jihoon witnessed a miracle.

“...She replied.”

Seungkwan glanced up at Jihoon. “Who?”

Jihoon turned his screen to his younger member, who leaned forward to read his screen. Only to audibly gasp and cover his mouth with his hands. “You messaged her?!”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Keep up.”

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me–”

“Ah, Boo Seungkwan.”

The corner of Seungkwan’s mouth twitched and Jihoon merely smirked. He turned his attention back to your messages, smiling fondly at your usage of 🥳 after greeting him a happy anniversary.

Oh shit, wait. You knew SEVENTEEN?

And he portrayed that sentiment exactly when messaging you.

(With some typing errors.)

(He may or may not have taken one, two, several shots once the anxiety settled back into him.)

(His alcohol tolerance was nonexistent.)

The messages were now rapid-fire. He found out that you were a Carat and that you favored Yoon Jeonghan.

He snorted at that, of course you would.

A lightbulb lit up over his head. Ah. He could do something for you.

He jumped up from his seat on the couch, away from Seungkwan who was watching over his shoulder the entire time who chose to remain silent because he knew he would be kicked out if he said anything compromising. “Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Woozi Woozi~?”

“Can you do something for me?”

Jeonghan stared at him, frozen. Then after a moment to process what exactly Jihoon said, the older one crossed his arms over his chest, a scandalized look in his wide eyes. “Depends on what you’re asking for.”

“YAH.”

“Lee Jihoon, don’t yell at someone you’re trying to ask a favor from. You’re lucky I’m a nice guy.”

Jihoon held his tongue, but his expression must have given it away because Jeonghan laughed and said that he would rather not die, and asked Jihoon to continue with what he was saying. “Y/N just graduated and she basically said that you’re her favorite SEVENTEEN member–”

“WOW! I like her already.”

“Hyung.”

“Okay, what do you want me to do for both my cute fan and my even cuter dongsaeng?”

“Just a video to congratulate her.”

“My videos are rare, it’s not easy to get something like this, you know.”

“Hyung, please.”

Jeonghan cackled, but quickly acquiesced. “Alright, alright.”

Soon enough, he found himself in a rhythm speaking to you. It was so easy, there was no residual awkwardness (on his end, at least) and it felt so natural. The banter was still there and so were your emoticons, escalating from the “:)” of your childhood to the iPhone emojis. You seemed so close, within reach, attainable.

That felt dangerous.

He could feel it. He could feel that desire to spill out everything he could. He spent years coming up with the words he wished he could’ve told you, some of them now award-winning songs, and it feels almost euphoric to know that he could tell you it all.

But.

He wasn’t sure, still. How receptive you would be. Would you run away like you did in the past whenever things became too much, too overwhelming? He always reminded you that you could never be that, but he wasn’t sure whether he was of the same capacity.

He wants you in his life. There is no doubt about that, especially not now.

But what if you leave again?

He cannot mess this up. He can’t.

So, he kept things light between you, jokes and jabs.

But that didn’t stop him from pushing for more, disguised in a (not-so) innocent attempt at ensuring that he would be able to have open contact with you in the future.

And that’s all he needed. A future with you in it.

That wasn’t too much to ask for, right?

──────────────────

Yes. Yes, it was.

After a few days of no response from your end on KakaoTalk, your Shikamaru profile picture almost mocking him with his permanent deadpan look, the answer was resounding.

But Jihoon’s entire identity was based on his stubbornness.

So, he decided to take a chance and message you on Instagram.

Only to retract immediately saying you didn’t have to reply.

Stupid.

Thankfully, though, you responded within 30 minutes, admitting that @narutofanfreak123 was not exactly a username you wanted to share with anyone above the age of twelve. You both quickly resolved the miscommunication (wow, Jihoon thought, imagine if we had this before).

He chuckled at your choice of KKT username, @MadameFirefly, oddly touched that his nickname for you still held enough weight to be your moniker for a messaging app.

He did his best to casually ask what you were planning on doing in the future (not like he wanted to see if he could somehow fit into it, or whatever).

Jihoon was left staring at his phone screen, the weight of his phone now burdened by the weight of your choices. Seoul? Or New York City?

──────────────────

“You didn’t have to miss the dance just because I got a B on an exam, you know.”

“Your parents are insane for grounding you to the library for a B on an exam, you know? And for a hagwon that’s way above our grade level.”

You shook your head, not willing to admit out loud that you agreed. “What I mean is that you don’t have to keep me company while I study when you could go off and meet cute girls and sweep them off their feet.”

“Why would I do that when I can watch you and your snot-nosed face trying to do college level calculus?”

“It’s all so that I can get into Seoul National.”

“Firefly, you could get into any school, even outside Korea.”

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” you laughed. “Finally get out of here.”

“Just let me know and I’ll stow myself into your suitcase.”

“Oh please. You’ll probably be the one traveling internationally doing whatever you do. A world-renowned musician.”

“Alright, you can be in my suitcase instead then.”

“Okay, can you leave breathing holes for me?”

“No, get better lung capacity.”

You clicked your tongue at him and he laughed. “Seriously, though, Jihoonie. You could be spending your teen years the way the movies do it. You could be ‘swearing you’re infinite’ while a slow-mo cam focuses on you as you dance, surrounded by beautiful people definitely too old to be cast as teenagers.”

“No thanks.”

You put your forehead down onto the table. “Please. Do it for me. Get a girlfriend because I can’t.”

“You know, you’re probably why I can’t get a girlfriend.”

No. You definitely were.

You shot him an annoyed look. “You could easily go and find someone who’d be smitten with you. But instead you’re about to watch me get a nosebleed over how hard I’m working my brain here.”

“Maybe I’m a sadist and want to watch that happen.”

You threw your eraser at him, but easily missed, the rubber object bouncing off of the table and onto the carpeted floor. You whined at the idea of having to leave your seat and Jihoon just rolled his eyes and picked it up for you.

Sure, he could be dancing with his friends, with cute girls, with whoever. He could be surrounded by endless snacks and overly sweet punch, the dance no doubt smelling like youth and pride and reckless decisions. He would see that there are plenty of people in his life outside of you.

But, no.

If he did, you would be left here, in this almost deserted library on a Friday, pouring blood, sweat, and tears into what your parents have convinced you matters more than your health.

You gave him a large grin as he passed you your eraser before you went back to focusing on your work.

Yeah, he’d much rather see this instead.

──────────────────

Later that evening, he found himself again in his recording studio.

Our past that didn’t line up,

If I could go back in time,

Rather than roughly, but warmly,

Would I be able to let you go?

He stared at the lyrics he wrote, feeling discontent. He wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t feel any kind of residual emotions towards you. Who would be able to meet you where you were and wish you well, no matter where you decided to go.

One of his biggest regrets was storming out of your childhood home the way that he did. He could’ve had answers but instead he was left with hostile emotions and questions.

He could only hope he would’ve done something different.

But now that he is faced with letting you go, he’s not sure how easily he would yield.

He took a moment to bury his face in his hands and tried to think about this from your perspective (something he had to practice while living with twelve other boys). He breathed in deeply and thought about the you that you are now, about how the person he fell in love with could easily be gone, and you were nothing but a shadow of what remained.

But that didn’t feel right either. It seems as though the person that you’ve grown into, that you’ve flourished into, is someone he would’ve wanted to get to know regardless of whether you had history or not.

Perhaps that is because of the artifice of social media, or perhaps it’s because you carry an air of authenticity with you that has now been given the opportunity to bloom instead of stifled in the environment you were raised in. Whether or not you were mere remnants of his past, it does not mean that the person you are now is any less lovely.

He groaned loudly.

Emotional labor is hard.

How is this something you enjoy doing?

──────────────────

“You really want to become a social worker, huh?”

You shrugged. “I mean, yeah. It feels like the best use of my skills. I like being able to potentially help people like me and well, there are a lot of people like me, you know. I don’t know whether I want to become a private practice therapist, but that seems like a solid option for now until I know more about what else is out there in the field.”

He would disagree, but he decided not to. “I just can’t deal with all of those emotions.”

You gave him a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about? You’re one of the most sensitive people that I know.”

Jihoon felt ruffled by that. “What? What are you talking about?”

You quickly put your hands up in mock defense. “I’m not saying that being sensitive is a bad thing. I’m saying that there’s no way you would be my friend if you couldn’t handle emotions. I have way too many of them, I’m not that blind to that. Also, I’ve read your poetry and heard your music and that’s some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. Like, even the way you hold your clarinet is emotional.”

“I think that’s you projecting yourself onto me.”

“Say what you want, Jihoon. You’re a sensitive soul, but I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

“Yeah, well, sensitivity isn’t what gets you awards, you know. Skill does.”

You huffed in response. “Yeah, well, once you build up the second, the first is what will create a legacy that will be one to remember for ages to come. I’m speaking it into existence now. And I lay claim to the title of being your first fan. I will support you the entire way, no matter what you do. Music, baseball, comedy. Whatever!”

Jihoon snorted. He wouldn’t dare become a comedian, but it made him feel good that you thought that was a viable prospect for him. “Whatever industry I’m in, I’ll probably have to protect you from all of the bad people. You’re too soft. Even just last week, I mean…”

“What? You mean, when Nahyun made fun of me during my presentation in front of everyone?”

Irritation washed over Jihoon.

The self-proclaimed It Girl decided to try and belittle you while in the middle of your presentation, as you were explaining the measurements that you used in your findings, she asked whether you had ‘measured’ your weight recently because ‘you really ought to’.

He never wanted to get into a fight more than then, especially when your other classmates laughed along. It was a subpar, typical, low-class mean girl line, but it filled him with rage.

You were completely unphased by it, continuing on with your presentation, not even choosing to spare a glance in her direction.

Luckily, the teacher, not being a prick himself, called out Nahyun and pulled her aside after class to apologize to you. (Jihoon would’ve preferred a public execution apology.)

Jihoon stood just a few feet away as you accepted her half-assed effort. You paused for a moment and muttered something to her, something that only she could hear. Nahyun merely pursed her lips afterwards before walking away. Irritation rushed through him again.

“Seriously, though. You’re too soft, firefly.”

“Hm. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“No. I just think everyone else is too hard on themselves. And each other.”

“...You’re gonna be a great therapist.”

“Thanks. Hire me.”

──────────────────

Jihoon had his own fair share of meetings with professional counselors (especially in the midst of living such a hectic life as an idol), but he was worried whether you would be as cut and dry as they were, whittled down by years of academia. It seemed almost like they were reading out of a textbook, using vocabulary words like ‘empathy’ and ‘self-care,’ so he never saw it fit to return if it wasn’t necessary.

However, the places you’ve poured your time into left only glowing reviews for your passion and compassion for the field that you were in.

Jihoon was roused from his thoughts at his phone ringing on his desk. He looked at the Caller ID and saw a name he has been in and out of contact with for over a decade, it was your cousin. He picked it up. “Yo, hyung. What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now, Jihoon?”

“No. It’s a slower day today. Do you need something?”

“Yeah, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be in Seoul in a few weeks. Your noona and I are planning on celebrating saying goodbye to our single days by drinking way too much within the span of 12 or so hours. I wanted to see if you were down to join.”

“I probably won’t drink, but if it’s for you, hyung, I’ll go.”

“Nice. And you can feel free to leave after the dinner, we’ll just be at an apartment we’re renting out in Gangnam, since I don’t trust those fools to walk around the streets of Hongdae.”

“I’ll probably do that, I don't want to accidentally be caught by Dispatch.”

“Right, right. We wouldn’t want to sully the name of the best producer in all of K-Pop.”

“That’s a title I don’t think I’ll ever get.”

Your cousin laughed. “You never know, you might get that award sooner than you think, kiddo. Alright, I’ll keep you updated on our schedule. But uh…”

Jihoon knew his hyung well. He was about to bring you up again. “What about her?”

“I just wanted to ask whether you’d be interested in a meet-up with her. Not that we’ve asked her or anything, but I know we’ll probably meet up with her at some point, and I know it’ll feel weird if we’re not all together, you know? The four of us.”

“Yeah… I want to say that I’m courteous enough to wait for her response, but I just know that I’m willing to meet with her, if anything. Even just one last time.”

“That… sounds kinda sad, but. I guess I’ll take it. If you’re down, we could even make it a surprise on her end.”

He imagined your deer in headlights look but couldn’t think further than that. “Sounds like we’d really be putting her on the spot, if that was the case.”

“Hey, she’s rarely played it safe. Same with you. Might as well keep the flow going. And if anything, I’ll take the brunt of it all. She can’t stay mad at me for too long.”

“We both know that’s literally not true.”

“Okay, fine. Your noona can take the blame.”

“Wow, very excited to see how this marriage will go.”

His hyung laughed. “Amazingly, I’m sure.”

A thought occurred to Jihoon and he realized it was strange that he was mentioning it as an afterthought, as if it was something to be expected, something natural and normal. “Oh, hyung. By the way, I’m talking to Y/N again.”

Jihoon heard the undeniable ‘beep beep beep’ of being hung up and he stared confused at his phone screen until he saw another phone call from your cousin. He picked up with a, “Hello?”

Your cousin sounded much more flustered than he did just seconds ago. “Sorry. I hung up because I dropped my phone by accident. Say that again. You’re what?”

“I’m talking to her again. Kind of. I guess. Like, Instagram DMing went to KakaoTalk.”

“Jesus Christ, you slid into her DMs?”

“Can you not say it like that?”

“Can you say that that didn’t happen?”

Jihoon relayed the entire experience to him, only now realizing he didn’t even share all of the details with his members because it would’ve been too much teasing fodder from them. But your cousin, his hyung, was the kind of fellow that wouldn’t do that, even given the opportunity.

──────────────────

“Hyung,” Jihoon started one day, across from said person in a local Busan restaurant. “I don’t get how you’re single.”

“Why, you wanna date me?”

Jihoon’s eye twitched and your cousin laughed. Jihoon bit on his straw, the family style meal between the two young men long since devoured. “People compare us, you know.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s there to compare?”

“I don’t know. So many people around us know how cool you are. You’re good at sports, you’re smart, you have a lot of friends, you’re handsome. Everyone always says you’re one of the best listeners they’ve ever met.”

“The trick is to not pay attention sometimes and just nod.”

“I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that.”

“I’m sure she knows,” he laughed. “Well, I'm honored that you think all of those things, but those are all traits you have too. You do realize that, right?”

Jihoon grunted. “Not… really.”

“Well, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean others don’t. My cousin definitely does. She’s a good kid and has a good heart. Same with you. If you ever decide to do anything about those feelings of yours, just know that I approve.”

Jihoon nearly choked on his drink. “Wh–?”

“Oh, it was a secret?”

“Hyung!”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t say anything to her, don’t worry. And if you ask me, I’d say that you’re the only one on this planet that even has a chance. Well, except that girl from the cake shop.”

Jihoon sneered.

Fucking Woo Soyeon.

With her shiny hair and long eyelashes and doe eyes and tanned skin from her beach volleyball playing.

Giving out discounts to you like nobody’s business. Calling you cute and flirting nonstop while twirling a lock of her hair. Saying you’re her favorite customer. He could swear Woo Soyeon would throw a knowing smirk at him every time you stuttered a little too long when saying thank you.

That damned girl behind the counter, the one whose beauty and voice (“It’s just so velvety, you know? Like the chocolate cherry cakes.”) he knew you were smitten by.

She was even taller than him, especially in her heels.

At the ripe age of 15, Jihoon understood what jealousy was.

Because of fucking Woo Soyeon.

“Watch out, Jihoon. I can hear your thoughts all the way from over here.”

“Sorry.”

Your cousin laughed. “Trust me, you mean a lot more to her than cake counter girl. My cousin wanted all of us to go see the Christmas lights in the city together. You don’t see her inviting that cake counter girl, do you?”

Jihoon felt a weird sense of pride well up in his chest. Then immediately deflated. It felt stupid to feel like he won against a person who’s just trying to sell cakes to a loyal customer. “Hyung, how do you do it? You’d never let yourself get angry or jealous over stuff like this.”

The older of the two cocked an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t get jealous over a cake counter girl.”

“Says who? I get jealous. It’s normal, you know. Jealousy isn’t inherently a bad thing. It’s just what you do with it, right? Like, just because you’re jealous of cake counter girl, does that mean you stop Y/N from going to that shop?”

“What? Why would I do that? She loves that shop.”

“Exactly. Emotional maturity doesn’t mean you stop yourself from feeling the emotion, it just means you learn how to handle it as it comes. And once you practice it enough, it becomes easier and easier.”

“You make it sound easy, but it’s not.”

“Hey, I’m not anything big and special myself.”

Jihoon shook his head. “Hyung, you’re a superhuman.”

“No, I’m just human and letting myself be that,” he corrected. “Trust me, there’s plenty of good people out there. A lot of them just aren’t making the decision to do so. It’s easier to be cruel, but. I want to prove that you can be kind and still be a man. We get to define what that means. If I decided to be cruel, to become what society says is ‘a man,’ then I have no doubt Y/N would lose trust in me, and probably, all men.”

Jihoon noticed that his hyung stared at him for a second.

“Actually, maybe not all men.”

Jihoon felt embarrassed, but also honored, at the implication. “Thanks, hyung. You know, for not making fun of me. And for admitting that you also feel those kinds of things.”

“Absolutely, I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m seriously still surprised that you’re single.”

“Yeah, well. That might not always be the case if I can figure out what to do.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well… you know your noona?”

──────────────────

Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head at the way the events unfolded. Your cousin told him about his feelings for his future wife, but it still took a few years for anything to come out of that. He wondered whether being childhood friends had anything to do with it, as if the longer and deeper the bond, the riskier the chasm was to try to jump across.

However, your cousin still managed to do it.

“How did you do it, hyung?”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Just… how did you manage to tell noona how you felt?”

The older man laughed. “You really think that it was me who confessed? No, no. It was her. I think she was tired of the back and forth that was happening between us. I mean, so was I, but I was a coward, but thankfully, she wasn’t. Now because of her saying that she loved me first, I get to be the one who says it last. Then we start again. It’s a dialogue, you see. It doesn’t matter who starts the line, as long as it continues.”

“Oh…”

“Am I proud that I was a coward? No. I sometimes wish it was me who said it first so she wouldn’t have any room for doubt. But we can’t go back and change the past, only commit to a better future. All of this to say, though, Jihoon, it’s been long enough of not saying anything between the two of you. I don’t think you want to wait any longer.”

“…yeah. I agree.”

That night, hours after preparing for the album, Jihoon’s fingers tapped away on his Notes app.

This waiting, it’s not easy to endure.

It was past 4am now.

But he didn’t want to wait any longer.

So, he switched apps and instead of a blank Note, he began typing into a message box.

i know its late. rehearsal never ends until 3am and i know that when u get texts you wake up even if ur phone is on silent bc the vibration wakes u up so im trying to type this all in one message so that it doesnt wake u up (hopefully) but i didnt want it to seem like i left u on read because i was upset or something. but i didnt want to message until i had the time to have a full conversation but i dont think thats happening any time soon anyway. when you see this i hope it makes sense im not sure if i am

A response from you was the last thing he expected, but you always managed to surprise him.

The first time he heard your voice directly in his ears, he thought he was going to spontaneously combust. But he tried to keep his voice level as he asked you about where you were leaning towards for your career.

The relief that rushed through him.

The hope that ignited in him.

That was the spark needed for him to explode.

And so he did, into words.

“I’m proud of you, you know?”

He heard your throaty stutter, one that only came out whenever you were really caught off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You got a whole ass PhD. From the best university in Korea,” Jihoon still couldn’t believe the two of you went to the same school. “You got offered a job at a super big school in America. One that’s super big in the field that you studied. You graduated from an even school for undergrad, a school that even I know the name of. And just… I know that people expect you to achieve because you’ve always been a genius, always so brilliant, but. You also work really hard. So I’m proud of you.”

He could barely hear your, “It’s not that big of a deal—” over the pounding in his ears.

“But it is, firefly.”

And suddenly he was brought back to all the years before. Where he spent more years in love with you than not. How that nickname encapsulated exactly as he saw you: inspiration, guidance, hope.

“I mean, I just—”

Your flustered response only encouraged him to continue. “You don’t have to believe me. But that won’t stop me from feeling it.”

“Jihoon, I—”

He didn’t realize just how much he’s missed hearing you say his name. But more than that, “I’ve missed you.”

There was a pause on your end, but he was done with his.

“I’ve missed you a stupid amount. Like us stealing your dad’s car to drive to McDonald’s at 3am and then running a red light on the way there. And then somehow almost hitting an entire flock of seagulls—” which he would never admit to being the reason he never wants to get behind the wheel again. “And then going to some random, deserted parking lot. And then realizing we didn’t know the way home, so we drove aimlessly, for, like, 45 minutes. And then panicking when we kept seeing the gas needle going down. That kind of stupid.”

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was naming a memory that you no doubt remember as well, it was near traumatizing. But there was something in him that didn’t want you to forget. He didn’t want himself to forget. Because…

If I forget someday, as if nothing is wrong,

Our future will be empty and sad.

It’s not that I want to forget you.

Ah, he made a mental note to switch to his Notes app later.

“I… I missed you too.”

Jihoon couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his cheeks, almost to the point of straining them. It was already so late and he still had enough function in his brain to know he ought to cut this short now. Otherwise, he’d be on the phone with you for an ungodly amount of time. “I have to sleep now, but. I just. I couldn’t not tell you. That’s all.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounded so small, he had to press his phone closer to his ear to ensure he didn’t miss anything.

“Get some sleep, firefly. Or should I call you, Dr. Firefly now?”

“That sounds like a cartoon villain.”

He laughed hard at that. You would say that. “Alright, we’ll just go with firefly then.”

‘We’ felt good on his tongue.

“Night, night, Jihoonie.”

“Sleep well, firefly.”

He told you he needed to sleep, but with the way that he was running on sheer endorphins from finally releasing some of that pressure inside of him, sleep was the furthest thing on his mind. Instead, he imagined you getting some well-deserved rest, wondering what kind of dreams you hoped to have.

You were falling asleep, he was falling in love.

──────────────────

In less than 24 hours, he was going to see you in person for the first time in years, no more needing to find YouTube videos or podcasts or news articles or social media posts.

Tomorrow, he’ll be face to face with you.

And the dorm was in chaos.

“He should wear the white button down!”

“No, he should wear something funky, with cool patterns!”

“What? Absolutely not, hyung! Jihoon-hyung looks best in plain clothing, his skin shines that way!”

“Well, he’s been avoiding his skincare, so that might not be the best route to go down.”

“Hoon is handsome no matter what!”

Jihoon was exhausted. Why were his members more invested in this than he was?

Even Soonyoung was getting giddy. And that was a problem. When it came to you, Soonyoung was his voice of reason, but after he relayed the phone call he had with you, Soonyoung was easily won over by your: ‘I missed you too.’

“I knew it!” The tiger had exclaimed.

(Jihoon wasn’t sure whether he did.)

Junhui was thriving off of the chaos and was now leaping across the wooden floor, with Jeonghan quickly on his tail, trying to coerce him into stopping and failing miserably. Seokmin was still trying to convince Seungkwan that a funky pattern was like how, in nature, peacocks showed off to their mates—“he’s not a bird, hyung!”—while Soonyoung kept interjecting saying that Jihoon was attractive no matter what so he could just wear a plastic bag (which earned him a gentle slap by Seokmin). Mingyu disappeared for a moment after Wonwoo’s off-handed comment about Jihoon’s skin, only to return with his skincare products that Jihoon knew were going to be slapped on him soon enough. Seungcheol kept repeating in an exasperated tone, “Stop fighting, we already got a noise complaint this week,” while Jisoo and Minghao were probably off in Jihoon’s closet trying to establish an outfit for him without his consent. Hansol was on his phone, noise-canceling earphones on, completely uninvolved in what was going on. Chan was only goading on whoever was the loudest in the moment (currently, Junhui).

Jihoon piped up. “Do I get an opinion on this?”

In near perfect synchronization (including the boys in his room), everyone responded with a, “No!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

God, tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

[continue reading here]

75 notes · View notes

toons-inkwell · 2 months ago

Text

Finding "Frankie" AU. Chapter: 2

Warnings: Body horror? (Idk if you have a good imagination like me stuff like this does become horrifying in retrospect).

words: 6,411 (check first reblog for author's notes as well as Toon's design if interested).

Rain trickled down from the sky as Toon made his way out of a parking lot and into the confines of a small grocery store located on the edge of a very sketchy neighborhood. A sliding glass door opened with a ding to greet him, a loud box fan triggered and the sound of the air blasting him drew the cashier's attention. Burying his attention into the ground, he avoided anyone else like the plague and shuffled past what few prying eyes that would watch him. Cameras looked on overhead and he took a quick glance at them before completely dismissing their presence. Thankfully all but one were inactive, the only camera that was actually on was the one aimed at the checkout to ensure no employees were stealing from the register. The ones placed around the store were mere dummy props intended to deter thieves, the store didn't have the proper funds nor actual care to purchase real cameras to protect goods that would almost definitely disappear in such an impoverished area. With the only other person in the store being isles down and the cashier quickly going back to distracting themselves with their phone, Toon slid into the small cramped cereal section of the store and let his flesh disguise slip to take a breath.

Faux skin melted off into tar black ink and molded itself back in the blink of an eye. With a breath of relief Toon looked in the reflection of a puddle that had formed on the waxy grocery floor from the water dripping off his hoodie. With a grimace he pressed his glove-like hand to his snout and examined what he looked like, or at least what he felt comfortable looking like. It was weird to say the least but unlike the human disguise he wore in public the appearance of his anthropomorphic animal look was something that he didn't *totally* hate looking at. It felt like something he could safely look like and pretend to be without being horribly sick to his stomach, once again he didn't exactly like it but it did its job. Taking a further look at himself, Toon tilted his head and stared at his face to make sure he got everything right, he didn't wish to forget the only face he could stand looking back at him in a reflection.

Long rat snout: check. Fluffy spike-like fur on his cheeks: check. Black stripe running vertical across his eyes and head: check. Black triangle nose: check. Long floppy ears: check. Piecut pupils located in a conjoined eye that also acted like brow: check. It still felt like there was something missing though…

squeak

Toon jumped out of his skin as his big ears picked up the sound of a shopping cart’s wheel roll close. Thankfully jumping out of his skin was just what he wished to happen. In an instant his face shifted into his human form, what once was a weird looking rat-rabbit hybrid now went back to being a normal—if you could call his freakish appearance normal—man. Out of the corner of his eyes he spotted someone looking down the aisle at him, staring for an unknown reason. It made his heart sink and a small voice in his head tried to make him panic. The idea someone saw him without his disguise made him tremble but he did his best to not draw anymore attention himself. Trying his best to also not look like some druggie or otherwise lunatic, the disguised RatBit rubbed his chin and stared at the cereal boxes on the shelf.

“Which one to get… which one to get…” he murmured, feigning interest in the cereal.

Out of the corner of his vision he stared at some shopper who had stopped whatever they were doing and looked directly at him. Eyes bore into the side of his head and he held his breath, doing his best to give a genuine nonchalant smile only to fail miserably and look even more disturbed. Maybe shifting back into his RatBit look was a bad idea now that he was looking at it, it was probably a better idea to just keep his human disguise on until he went back home, even if it did disgust him. Besides, he did come to the grocery store with the intent to buy food after all. He admittedly didn't have much to his name, his hoodie pocket filled with a crumpled 5 dollar bill was all he had at the moment. It wasn't much but it was money he could spend and it would hopefully be enough to buy himself something to hold him over until he could get some more.

Releasing his breath, Toon stood up and no longer pretended to look at the cereal. With the presence of whoever was staring at him being dismissed, he surveyed the breakfast goods lined up on the shelf ready to take away what little he had left. Oatmeal, prepackaged pancake batter, the main allure of course being the several boxes of cereal that took up 1/3rd of the shelf towards the end. There wasn't much variety, it was a very ghetto store so stock was limited. The entire lower shelf consisted of some very bland honey coated cereal called JoyHoops which Toon passed over almost instantly. The two upper shelves were what caught his eye, more colorful boxes depicting a cartoon mascot chicken with the words “Morning Crunch” were what he was drawn to. Naturally preferring to look like an anthropomorphic animal himself he was enticed to buy the one with more childish marketing, one box specifically called out to him louder than the rest though. There sitting by its lonesome surrounded by different brands was a light blue cereal box sporting a lop-eared rabbit with a hat and magic wand.

“Frankie's Fruit Flakes…” Toon read aloud.

Toon reached out and grabbed the box, his hand brushing against the cold metal shelf making him shiver. Much to both his suprise and delight the box was strangely heavy for a cereal box. In comparison to the JoyHoops and Morning Crunch brands, the Frankie box held a tad bit more girth in both its packaging and feel. Toon picked up the other boxes just to make sure he wasn't going crazy and yup, sure enough the box holding colorful frosted fruit flavored flakes with marshmallows would probably be the best bang for his buck. He wasn't exactly a bargain shopper—he probably should have been—but he still knew buying this one would give him the best bang for his buck. Besides, he did have an odd fascination with the mascot of the cereal. His eyes sparkled seeing the friendly smile of the rabbit that had lured him in. It was just a capitalist and predatorial way to trick small kids into consuming their product, but it still worked on the disguised rodent and he began to feel a weird sense of nostalgia for a childhood he never had. Considering he was only partially a rabbit it wasn't really a vain thought to think the mascot was in some way cute, was it?

“Um excuse me?”

Toon froze up and felt his stomach tie into a knot, someone had spoken remarkably close to him. He prayed it was just someone talking to someone else but he could hear it was not only close but directed right at him. With a feeling of unease he tilted his head towards whoever this person was but suddenly felt a whole lot less anxious.

“... What the–?”

Sitting there was one entire shopping cart loaded over to the brim with boxes upon boxes of Frankie’s Fruit Flakes. The baby blue boxes were in one giant mountain, unevenly placed and all clumped together with a select few looking like they were about to fall to the side. Toon was immediately taken aback by the sheer absurdity of the sight and his mouth hung open as his eyes snapped to the man who called out to him.

“Um… can I help you?” he asked.

“Yeah I was just wondering if I could maybe have that?” The man pointed to the box Toon held in his palms “I already asked for all the boxes they had in the back and I was just coming to get what they had on the shelves so–” The man opened his palm as if expecting Toon to hand it over.

Being the nervous creature he was, he initially would have given up the cereal box just to avoid anything. Something about the box drew him in though, he didn't wish to depart with it at all. It was stupid to cause such a scene simply because he liked the mascot, but he did find it first as such he felt at least a little entitled to it. Toon swallowed a ball of spit that had built up in his throat and got ready to speak, doing his best to steel himself to reply concisely.

“...no…” Toon said as he clutched the box, pressing it close to his chest “I uhh–kinda want it? I'm hungry?”

Desperation filled the man’s eyes seeing Toon hold it. He took a step closer and reached into his pocket to retrieve a wallet which he flipped through in a panic “okay, yeah no, I get that I just REALLY need that box, I'd be willing to pay you if you let me have that, I know this may be a lot to ask it's just something I need right now”

Toon slowly crept backwards, his voice got softer and his gaze was averted back down to the floor “Um n-no, sorry I just want this?”

“Please, I'll give you a hundred dollars for it I just REALLY need it” The man took a few more steps closing the already limited amount of distance there was. Toon did his best to look away but had a handful of cash shoved in his face, the man still ever so insistent “Please– 500! 500 dollars!”

Toon let out a small squeak and covered his mouth. He had nowhere else to go and he found his back pressed against one of the cold walls of the store. Trying not to let anymore sounds slip he spoke with his voice now shrill and frightened “I'm really sorry, but I'm just taking this one box only and you have–”

drip

“Uh–.... Oh fuck…”

Toon could very clearly see a small drop of ink had fallen down off his face and onto the floor below. The hanging bay lights gave the small droplet a glint and for a split second Toon saw his disguised face completely malformed. His nose had shifted off to the side, his pupils were dilated and pitch black, worst of all most of his skin had started to droop like a very thick face mask about to be washed off. His entire disguise was coming undone and he looked like some misshapen wax figure that had gone out too long in the summer sun. The silence was deafening and even if Toon couldn't see the man’s face he knew he was getting a look of disgust. He had to get out, go far, far away.

The disguise he wore slipped away with his nerves, more drops of black fell onto the floor and Toon stumbled past the man. “I'm sorry, I'm just gonna take this and go” he mumbled.

“WAIT! Please give me that box!”

The man reached out towards Toon and time seemed to slow. For a split second in that moment Toon stood completely still, this random person grabbing at his hoodie making him react like a deer in headlights. The cearl box felt like nothing in his hands as they went numb, although not actually having blood nor a heartbeat he nonetheless heard a pounding in his ears that went off like sirens. His entire body felt like it was on the verge of collapsing as his mind raced, the finish line on his thought process telling him to do one and only thing:

Run

It was a spur of the moment thing. It was stupid and Toon cursed himself internally for doing such a moronic act but he couldn't help himself. The second his brain told him to, he ran, ran right out the store and into the cold rain. He could hear the shouting from the cashier, man. and the grocery store anti theft alarm but he never once cared to look back. His body had begun to melt with the human face he wore coming off, his body reverting his visage to its primordial state of pitch black with small glowing white dots. Puddles of water splashed and muddied his feet as he dashed through them, even his shoes were apart of the human disguised and those two began to deform. He deeply prayed no one saw him running through the parking lot, clutching a box of cereal like his life depended on it. When he first arrived to the store the rain was a light sprinkle that was almost pleasant, now it was a complete torrential downpour with the dark clouds casting shadows everything under them.

By the time the adrenaline—or at least his bodies’ version of it—wore off the pain began to set in. Toon had run 3 blocks straight, never once looking behind himself until now. A ragged sigh of relief flew out between his lips which were almost completely melted together. The disguise was almost completely gone but he couldn't care less as he found himself alone.

”The fuck was that guy’s problem?” He thought, his mouth currently incapable of speaking.

Taking a quick look around Toon tried to calm himself, assessing his surroundings to the best of his abilities. He was in not too unfamiliar territory, there was an abandoned warehouse, residential apartments, and even a few suburban houses that had long developed rot since they were in use. Potholes lined the black asphalt streets that were only made blacker by the rain which drenched everything and even the lights set up on the sidewalk to give people the comfort of safety at night in such a dangerous area held nothing but dead bulbs. To say the scenery was dreary would be an understatement, it was plain old depressing giving an unnerving sense of isolation. Even most of the residential apartment buildings were abandoned with a possible select few having tenants in them. The exact reason for such an abandonment of an area was the fact this was the part of town that was simply neglected, stricken with poverty and homeless; it was much easier for city officials to merely ignore this entire area rather than invest money to improve it. It was a sad reality but one the sentient ink creature came to understand not too long after waking up. They simply wanted nothing to do with any of this area. Well, most of this area.

With a pull of his hoodie drawstrings Toon hid himself and carried on, his feet still aching and heart palpitating. He was no longer in danger but the weird interaction was going to be engraved into his brain for the next week, at minimum. It was so odd, and for what? This weird frosted flaky cereal with marshmallows in it? He looked at the box and couldn't find what was so special about it, it was family size and heavy?... That was about it? The RatBit was just an honest to God loss on what the hell could be so special that someone would be willing to pay 10 times the amount the box cost if he handed it over. It was a box—a bit heavy sure but still—a box of cereal. Was this some sort of limited edition type thing and this dude was just a hoarder buying up every box the store had? All questions that would go unanswered, there really wasn't any logic he could apply to why the man had so many boxes in his cart and wanted this one as well. Toon just dismissed it as another bizarre display of man’s lunacy at its finest and left it at that.

Doing his oh so hardest to shove that out of his mind, Toon finally looked up when he was approaching his neighborhood. With only a quick glance given towards both ends of the road he made a direct beeline across the street to his home. A small concrete studio that was once used by animators one and a half stories high awaited him with its door partially hung open, big letters that once used to shine bright were just as broken and dull as everything else hung on the front part of the building. What was left of the old sign specifically held deep significance to the disguised ink creature, whatever the building was called had been lost to time leaving no letters other than “toon” as a label. The entire thing he held dearly but for him but it was the sign that gave his name, it was one of the few things he had when he awoke.

Toon finally got out of the rain and stepped inside with the cereal box he held in tow. Once inside he slammed the door behind him, the hinges filled with rust made an awful scraping sound and he prayed it would stay closed. The building lacked locks—because Toon broke them when he awoke—so he resorted to blocking all the entrances as a way to keep out unwanted guests. Today was different though, today he had no care and didn't bother blocking the main entrance. Instead he walked all the way over to the small part of the building he fashioned into a somewhat livable area and flicked on the lights. His sole company of roaches that infested the building skittered out of sight into unseen cracks and crevices, a sight that most would find revolting had become all too commonplace. He didn't care about the roaches or any other insects that lived with him, what he cared about and was focused on was a small box that sat on a table. Inside of the box rested small bits of drawings, doodles, and scraps of film reels that had been cut out focused on singular cartoon character from the 30s. This was Toon’s reference for his face, it's what he found when he awoke and quickly grew to acclimate to. It was something that felt familiar in an odd way and he had a connection to, he liked to believe those drawings were him, or at least apart of him.

Alas the reconnection with his body was short-lived. A small red envelope he had forgotten about was stuffed into the box by the RatBit earlier that week poked out.

”SHIT! I forgot about that!”

Toon swiped the envelope and he let out a gurgled groan reading the words “URGENT” on it addressed to some fake name he utilized. While the place appeared abandoned on the outside he was lucky enough to abuse the systems enough to be able to make a claim to owning it, squatters rights and all that. The unfortunate part of this was the fact that if he wanted to continue owning it it meant paying what property taxes that would be sent to his address and fake name. Another tragic detail was the fact that he had the unfortunate luck of dwelling in the only building actually wanting to be changed. He couldn't remember when but a couple months back he was offered a very miniscule amount of cash for his residence, they wanted to turn the old studio into some store or something. Toon didn't pick up on the exact details and time muddied them in his mind, but what he could clearly remember was the bottom line of them wanting to demolish and remodel the only place that he could call home. Needless to say he rejected the offer in an instant, but now that he was getting letters in the mail regarding the building he knew that if he missed one more payment he'd be evicted and no doubt the walls that were filled with unknown amounts of history would be wiped clean. Toon felt bitter towards the entire situation and looking within his pocket which held a 5 dollar bill he'd have to go back and give up just made him feel worse. He cursed himself for not taking the money the man offered if he gave up that box, but he'd rather die than go back desperate for the cash.

Between that bullshit that happened at the store, his current hunger, and now the revelation of this letter resurfacing it felt like life was becoming all too much and hectic. He just needed to gather his thoughts, take a breath, and take one thing at a time. Right now he was going to focus on the thing preventing him from taking a breath, the fact that his face was just a blank slate of ink with 2 glowing eyes. Toon tossed the envelope to the side and picked up one of the more intact drawings of the cartoon studio’s mascot, his face shifting to mimic what he saw.

Long snout, fluffy spike-like fur on his cheeks, black stripe running vertical across his eyes, black triangle nose, long floppy ears, pecut pupils located in a conjoined eye that also acted like brow, tuft of fur on his head—

“THAT'S WHAT IT WAS!” he exclaimed, the earlier feeling of something amiss being answered.

Toon licked his fingers and pressed them to his forehead, the fur beneath his fingertips melted allowing him to quickly mold it into a type of cow-lick before it hardened back into soft white fur. While he was at it he also ditched the pants he wore and added a few more details to his body based on the design papers he held. His hands kept the look of gloves but from his fingers and palms grew grey digital pads mimicking paws, his feet did the same. Sopping wet shoes covered in small bits of dirt and debris from outsidewere now white furry paws that he was quick to wipe on the ground. One final detail he added to his body was a monochromatic rat tail that emerged from his behind. With his body reshaped into that of the cartoon character he looked over at a small mirror he had hung up, it's glass cracked from him accidentally dropping it with the first attempt at trying to mount it on the wall.

Sure enough looking back was the cartoon character that probably was the studio he lived in’s mascot. He did do research on the place he dwelled in, a trip to the public library allowed him to look up what this place was but it netted minimal results. It was a small indie studio run by a group of friends who wanted to draw, it held no actual details regarding any creations that came from it nor any sort of report why it closed. All Toon knew was that the people who founded it were long dead since the 60s all that remained from them being a shelter, a few drawings he could use as an identity, a face and–”

gggggrrrrrrowwwe

–Hunger…

Toon groaned and lifted up his hoodie to look at his body, his inky stomach caving in on itself. Unlike his limbs which held proper fur on them his body was just a smooth inky shape vaguely resembling a torso of androgynous appearance although it became more unstable and harder to maintain with each day it was deprived of nutrients. Thankfully in his grasp he held the family sized cereal box, he'd have to ration it out until he could afford more food and perhaps it wasn't the most nutritious considering the box did sneakily hold small facts on the side stating it's high sugar contents, but it was still food. Food he could happily munch on. who needed milk? All he needed was the tasty flavor of the dry–

“tape?!”

Toon’s fur stood up and he retracted his hand, a VHS tape in his grasp. He was beyond confused and immediately noticed most of the weight the cereal box held vanished when he pulled out what was clearly not a bag full of cereal out. Heck, there wasn't even a bag the cereal was held in, the fruit flakes were just stuffed in with the tape leaving them crushed at the bottom. Instead of a nice box of cereal all he got was some stupid tape that took up 2/3rds of the box leaving him with barely anything.

“... What?” He muttered in disbelief “wha–WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?”

The RatBit buried his entire snout into the box to see what he had left. It was about a single bowl’s worth, definitely nowhere near what he thought he was getting nor what he should be getting for what he paid for. Well, he didn't pay for it and had to actually go back and give them the money, BUT STILL!

“I thought these things came with toys not whatever the hell this is!? What the fuck is this bullshit!”

Toon unlodged his snout from the box and firmly gripped the tape. He had effectively been robbed and all he had for food was a few handfuls of stale cereal and some shitty tape to show for it. He wanted to get mad, lash out and throw the tape against the wall letting it smash into thousands of little pieces before using his teeth to bite through the celluloid film reels. Just do anything to express his anger and what was soon becoming grief as he realized he wasted what little he had for a singular serving of food. But he couldn't. With everything that happened and what was going to happen with the place he lived in he honestly couldn't care anymore. Everything was becoming too exhausting and he'd just do what he'd always do, take the problem on the chin and try to press on even if he was feeling mad and on the verge of tears.

Toon let out a sigh, trying his best to relieve his frustration. His ears were drooped downwards and he looked at the tape in his hands. This actually snapped him out of his rage, the tape had the clear image of that cute cartoon rabbit on it in the background with the big words “PLAY ME!” in the foreground. Under it was small text which he had to squint to see. “Finding Frankie, season:1” it read in very small text. Now while it was neat having a piece of physical media of a TV show come with a box of cereal, Toon still felt pissed considering he bought cereal. He expected to get you know—maybe cereal!?

“Well… I guess I might as well watch this, nothing else to do after all and I ain't going back to the store while that weirdo is probably still there” Toon threw his hands up in the air in a fit, a few bits of the colorful flakes and marshmallows flew out of the box and he sighed.

After scooping what fell out back into the box Toon shuffled over to a storage closet that he knew kept small pieces of hardware from its hay day. Admittedly a cartoon studio from the 30s having a VCR in a closet was a bit bizarre but considering Toon also found his red hoodie in the building he just assumed there was an attempt to bring this place to life or turn it into something else before it was scrapped. Whatever the case he had a small CRT TV and a VCR which he dragged back into the livable area and plugged it in into an outlet. A small spark emerged making the RatBit flinch back, a side effect of the power being haphazardly directly connected to another building’s power grid. It was dangerous—and highly illegal—but it worked and allowed Toon to not only turn on lights, but now watch whatever was on the thing that had tricked him. Unlike the weight of the box, the tape didn't lie to him and was actually what it claimed to be and be a cartoon aired with the intent to educate kids and in no way garner an adult’s entertainment.

Oddly enough though, Toon did find entertainment in it. The show enamored him, probably because of the rabbit character, and he found himself sat on the floor with his pie cut eyes glued to the TV. With the box in his hands he rummaged around and scooped out a handful of the cereal. It was definitely stale, the taste comparable to that of fruit flavored dust that left an unpleasant aftertaste. Toon’s face scrunched up as he chewed but he knew he would be fine, he couldn't get sick like humans did. The horrible taste quickly became barely noticeable with each minute that ticked by, the rodent’s attention becoming more and more absorbed into what the television displayed.

“Finding Frankie” was the title just as the name on the VHS indicated. It starred the mascot of the cereal brand and the one plastered on the cover of the tape, a small lop-eared magician rabbit. The cartoon was very formulaic in its setup, usually the episode would start with Frankie attempting to impress unnamed characters with his magic trick only for something disastrous to happen and he'd rope in another character by the name of Henry Hotline who had a telephone for anyead to help him fix it before a third character named Deputy Duck with a tablet body found out what he did. A common gag in the show would be Frankie making himself “disappear” as a magic trick only to reappear in the background, whenever this would happen Henry Hotline would break the fourth wall and ask the audience to help him find Frankie which is probably where the title came from. After the initial 20 or so minutes of Frankie and his animated hijinks the show would then switch to a live action format, a man in a Frankie suit would come from off screen and greet a bunch of children and with the help of a tablet modeled to look like Deputy Duck they'd advocate for kids to exercise or whatever message the animated segment built. After the show there would also be one bonus segment, no longer than 5 minutes in length. It was a bit called “Calling Henry Hotline!” with the gist of it being an animated Henry would be sitting in what looked like some sorta kid version of a talk show setup where his head would ring and he'd pick up the phone listening to some question from a child. The questions ranged from life advice like how to deal with bullies or what to do if you break something all the way to questions about the characters in the Finding Frankie world. In a bit of charming characterization from the creators Henry would always initially answer these questions with intentionally poor, sarcastic or downright misleading advice, often saying the direct opposite of what one should do only for the quack of Deputy Duck to come off screen prompting him to reluctantly give a more helpful answer.

It was generic, childish, and oftentimes cheesy but dear god was Toon so fascinated with it all.

The little rodent never once looked away, not even bothering with pretending to need to blink. The world seemed to fade away and he subconsciously munched on the stale cereal with laser focus on the incredibly charming character of Frankie. He didn't know why but whenever the animated rabbit would be on screen he felt that odd feeling deep within his inky body that he felt at the store. It was a sort of bubbling and warmth that he never had felt before and saved him from reality. It allowed him to dissociate from all of it, the poverty stricken area, the bad tasting dry food being shoved into his muzzle, what happened at the store, the oncoming threat of his home being taken away, and even the discomfort he felt from merely existing. All of it just ceased to exist when Frankie would stretch with his mechanical limbs to climb something, bounce around or pull a human out of a hat. The Henry segment was humorous and the live action segment was delightful, but it was always those first 20 minutes at the very start of the episode that would force Toon to patiently sit and wait till the next played. Episode after episode he watched solely for the endearing rabbit that would make him feel a special sort of way.

All good things had to come to an end, eventually Toon’s bad luck came to tackle him to the ground. For some inexplicable reason the show he suddenly grown an attachment too started to not feel like itself. The animation segment in the very beginning was shortened down to 10 minutes with plots feeling a lot more rushed and nonsensical, the animation following along as it became very choppy with numerous errors made along the way. Henry’s 5 minute segment was removed, or at least it might as well have been. The telephone head no longer answered questions but now simply advertised products, one of these products being the very cereal the rodent found the tape in. The absolute worst was the live action segment that took up most of the cartoon’s runtime. What originally was supposed to be an educational segment intended to teach kids a lesson that would connect in some way to the animated part was now tried to be the entertaining part. It was filled with mediocre jokes or physical gags that would have been a thousand times better in an animated and more exaggerated format. The creepiest part of all of this though was the suit. The original Frankie suit was nowhere to be seen and now it was just this one mascot costume that resembled Frankie but was definitely not his cute magician rabbit. It had a permanent smile on its face with large teeth, beady eyes and movements that were stiff. The entire thing just got worse and Toon was forced to watch the death of something he had just fell in love with not to long ago. Thankfully it was only the last batch of episodes that had this horrendous format, once over the rodent couldn't help but feel worse. All the joy, happiness, and charm he garnered from Frankie and his show had its throat slit in front of him and like always he just had to take it.

When the final episode finished Toon stood up witnessing what was probably the most devastating event of the day “well… that was nice? M-most of it…” he said, the bright side not exactly shining the brightest.

With a melancholic smile he reached forward to eject the tape, his hand faltering the second he heard some extra footage that made his ears perk up.

”[CONGRATULATIONS! If you are watching this that means you are one of the only FOUR lucky people around the world who have the honor of participating in a gameshow located in the WORLD’S largest indoor trampoline, water, and parkour park!]”

Toon’s arm slowly lowered and he watched the screen. Real footage of a place that Henry advertised showed on screen as well as a few shots of what the indoor parts of the entertainment park looked like. It all went by so fast he could barely make out the scenery expect for a sign that read “Frankie’s Parkour Palace” which the camera lingered on.

”[To participate in this thrilling adventure simply bring the season one VHS you found in your winning box of Frankie’s Fruit Flakes to our main location in order to have a chance at winning FIVE MILLION DOLLARS!]”

The world lurched to a halt and Toon's eyes turned into small dots “five– five– five–”

The rodent continued to stutter as the tape continued with its message.

”[With over three stories of action-packed parkour obstacle courses, this is sure to be a gameshow you won't NEVER forget!]” The announcer suddenly spoke rapidly, his voice quieter and easily missable to the untrained ear ”[FindingFrankieanditsbrandtakesnoliabilityforanydeathdismembermenttraumaorotherwiseadverseeffectsthatmaycomefromparticipatinginthisgameshowmust beeighteenyearsoroldertoenterinvitationisnon-eligibleifanyoneotherthanthewinnerismadeawareofitsexistencewewillfindout]” and just like that it spoke loud again ”[We hope to see you there, lucky contestant…]”

Toon blinked slowly, his face blank. Quite literally blank, the ink that made up his expressions had dripped off and was a puddle on the floor.

The rodent was quick to bend down and smear the ink back on, reshaping his face as he gave breathless mutters, the shock of everything making him forget how to breath “holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck, HOLY FUCK!” black ink streaked down his face from his eyes, this time out of joy.

He could hardly believe his luck, no wonder that man wanted the box at the store he was trying to find the winning tape. He didn't though, instead Toon managed to find it and he was thankful to gods he didn't even believe in for allowing him a chance to change the horrid streak of luck that always befallen him. Ideas of what he could do swarmed in his mind, with a million dollars he'd be able to eat a proper meal for once in his life not once but probably an entire year or maybe two. With the remaining millions he could fix up the crappy building he called home. Heck, with all that cash he could go one step beyond and kick the place back into working order, hiring animators to come and make a new cartoon starring the character he took the form of. Maybe those creatives would be able to make changes to the design he found himself drawn to. Maybe they could be the ones to design him a body that he'd be able to be comfortable with.

All these thoughts put a big giddy smile on his face. Rewinding backwards to find the exact location of wherever this place would be, Toon began to mentally brace himself for whatever this game show would entail. This was a chance to not only better but entirely change his situation. It was a chance he was not willing to waste.

#fanfic #fanfiction #finding frankie #f“f” au #oc x canon #my fanfiction #finding frankie fanfic #finding frankie fanfiction #frankie the magician rabbit #henry hotline #oc #original character

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vnamps · 6 months ago

Text

THE GRADE AID. 003

prev. | next

overall summary: lee min-ho, your absolute academic rival, an absolute menace needs help to raise his grade before the semester ends, and who better to ask for help than you, the grade aid.

word count : 1.3k

overall contents: minho is cocky, a bunch of teasing, angst, fights, mentions of injuries, good ending.

authors note: I got carried away idk i need to stop watching kdramas.

Ever since Minho's meeting with Jeongin and Jisung, the study sessions haven't been the same. Minho has been acting like what one would even call a ...gentleman? It was like your everyday pleas for his menace behavior to stop were finally being heard.

And as the weeks grew, he became even a little more tolerable, to say the least. And even so, that didn't stop you from being surprised as he approached an offer to you after one of the study sessions.

"What?" You looked at him as if you'd seen a ghost, his calm expression remaining. Of course, it wasn't unusual to hang out with others in high school; But to be asked by someone you have no association with besides during your tutoring sessions is absolute maniac to you.

"It's a generous offer, you don't just say 'what' you give a clear answer" he says, deadpan look on his face.

"I'm sorry Minho, I'm too busy for a hangout session with someone I'm already spending too much time with than I need"

He peers out the window, a grin appearing on his face. "How are you meant to get home then?"

Your gaze followed his as he looked back at the raindrops that raced each other down the glass, every now and then merging with each other and falling faster .

"I'll... find a way"

"oh please, it's 40 degrees outside and harshly raining and you live more than a mile away from the school, allow me my one chance at being nice, you should be grateful"

you roll your eyes at that, looking down at your books and lack of a bag to fit them all. it's so far looking like you'll just have to take him up on the offer.

"Fine. Take me straight home" You grab your stuff and head for the exit as he smiles in victory as phase one of his plan succeeds.

The car ride was painfully more quiet than he intended as happy together by the turtles played quietly, the sound of the music mixing in with the loud sounds of rain.

As you stop at your home, you're about to open the door before he locks it. "At least let me walk to the door, you're holding valuable information for me and I wouldn't allow it to get wet"

You roll your eyes once more, sighing as you watch him reach in the back for an umbrella, opening his door and opening it.

Your eyes trail him as he makes his way to your side, opening the door. "what a gentleman " you say sarcastically as you try rushing to your door, him trailing behind you.

As you knock on the door, you're greeted by your mother and a warm smile. "Y/n! ooo, who's this cute boy?" she glanced at Minho, a grin on her face.

He smiles back. "Lee Minho" his charming smile was even enough to fool you as you groan.

"Well come inside, wouldn't want you to get caught in this horrible weather..." your eyes widened , looking back at Minho who looked down at you with a grin as he nodded.

You both sat on the couch as your mother prepared tea, Minho sitting and looking innocent as ever.

"I guess we are getting to hangout after all. Aren't you wondering why the world works in wonderful ways?"

"What I'm wondering is what I must've done in my past life to get this much karma."

Minho scoffs, glaring at you before glancing around at your home.

"I must say though, your house is quite small..." Now it was your turn to scoff, leaning back in the couch.

"I'm sorry? not everyone has a house filled with rooms that collect dust all day. its called convenience."

"And my home isn't convenient? What if on days like these there is a tourist that needs shelter? "

"That'd be the least of your concerns, your family is pure evil, no goodness in their hearts at all"

"I think that's very prejudice-" Before he can finish his sentence, your mother is walking in with a tray that has mugs filled with black cherry tea.

The smell is wonderful, one that catches both you and Minho off guard and certainly is a contrast from your previous moods.

"Wow.. that smells amazing.." Minho says and you can't help but to agree with him for once in your life.

Your mother sets the tray down on the coffee table, smiling at you two. "Now, we don't have coasters but this'll do." She looks up at Minho then at the clock. "You can go back whenever you feel. Any friend of Y/n's is family to us"

Minho then smiles, putting his lips against the edge of the cup, sipping slowly as the steam touches the tip of his nose. The taste was delicious. There was a bit of sugar added within the tea to gift it a sweeter taste.

The way his eyes light up as soon as the taste hits his tongue, a small smile that comes and goes. It's something that almost made you forget he was the same one you were arguing with just 2 minutes ago.

The rain had stopped leaving a dewy smell that illuminated the bursting colors that mixed in the sky.

You stood by Minho, getting lost in it as you were about to wish him goodbye (your mother's orders)

"Woah ... I don't get to see those colors from where I live." He looks mesmerized as the dark grey clouds contrast the blue, pink, and orange ombre.

Your snort a bit, glancing at him. "you mean you don't get to see the sky? "

He rolls his eyes before shaking his head.

"Not like this, it feels so... raw" You furrow your eyebrows as he continues.

"Even the tea today, which was amazing- I... I've never had something like that before."

It feels a bit lightheaded to look up at the sky and also think but it also feels a bit humbling to know that there is something more prettier than big white fancy houses and all the newest tech .

You sigh, digging your hands into your pockets. "Well, that's a normal life for ya. Things like this go unnoticed by everyone but I think we're the most unappreciative of it as we get such a view. You should get going, Minho. Good night " You walk back into your home, shutting the door behind you before Minho watches the lights turn off.

taglist :@palindrome969 @rpwplost @valkyriexo @intrikatie @brainrotahahaha @turtledove824 @itzzyyyyyyydaaaa @ashxxgyu @linosalwayslinos

#skz #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz stay #lee know #minho #minho x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know stray kids #minho stray kids #minho skz #minho scenarios #🗯 : the grade aid

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cowgurrrl · 1 year ago

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Don't Let This Darkness Fool You

Summary: Joel's journey to sobriety [1.1k]

Author's note: idk how i feel about this

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, ANGST, TW ADDICTION, misuse of drugs and alcohol, mention of Sarah's death and Ellie's time in FEDRA school, chronic pain, symptoms of withdrawal, Joel trying to make peace with his past, happy ending

The first time Joel goes to a meeting, he sits in the back and says nothing. He watches person after person get up and talk at the front of the room like it's the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't move. He can barely breathe in the musty church rec room as he listens to their stories and finds pieces of himself in each. The survivor left to carry on when everyone else died or left; the bereaved parent; the ruthless dealer shaking down clients to make ends meet; the addict.

Joel never felt the need to examine his relationship with substances. He drank and smoked and made bad decisions as a teenager and into young adulthood, which is partly how he became a single parent at twenty-two. After Sarah was born, he didn't have the time or energy to party anymore. Sure, he had a beer or two here, but never anything close to a bender. He always had to wake up for work and make sure Sarah got to school on time. He would just be setting himself up for failure if he drank heavily.

Then Sarah died, and nothing mattered anymore. The FEDRA doctor gave him a bottle of painkillers for the stitches on the side of his head, and he never thought twice about it. At first, it was manageable. A drink here, some pills there. His kid had just died. He was allowed to grieve however he wanted to, or that was his reasoning, at least, when it became harder to get under control. He would go from being fine to the throes of withdrawal and back to the hazy stupor that rendered him incapable of function. It was a cycle. One that Tess and Tommy hated, but he was always sober when they needed him to be, or he tried to be.

That entire year spent with Ellie, he was more scared of what would happen if he did touch the stuff than if he didn't. His objective was no longer how fast he could get his next fix. It was how fast he could get Ellie fed or somewhere safe. When they finally settled in Jackson, he felt like he could relax without the help of a neat whiskey or a handful of menacing white pills. He was good. He kicked his nasty little habit that followed him for decades and cold turkey at that. He was fine. Until the trauma from the previous twelve months finally caught up with him.

His back was permanently fucked up from falling off the horse in Colorado. He got horrible headaches, which were probably the result of one too many hits to the head and neck. His wrist clicked in pain every time he moved it too fast, and he couldn't sleep. The Jackson doctor cautiously prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and painkillers. And goddammit, if those little pills didn't make him feel the tiniest bit better. He could feel the spiral start again but was too scared to voice it or ask for help.

It wasn't until that night when he stumbled home drunk and a little high after a patrol shift and found Ellie doing homework at the dinner table. He slurred an apology, and she eyed him like a dangerous stranger when he sat across from her. They got into a fight. Joel doesn't remember what it was about, but he remembers going to bed feeling stone-cold sober even though the alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. In the morning, Ellie admitted that she hated when he drank because it reminded her of the FEDRA soldiers loudly coming home from QZ bars. Drunk men with authority and weapons are enough to scare anyone, let alone a little girl. Joel promised her it would never happen again, and he fully intended to keep his promise, but he'd be lying if he said it was easy to quit.

His hands shook in pain for the first few days, and he constantly felt sick. He was sweaty and irritable and uncomfortable. It didn't help that the other patrolmen would ask him to join them for a drink after patrols. He almost folded once. He was almost over the threshold of the Tipsy Bison before he doubled back and ended up at Tommy's door, crumpling in on himself from pain and withdrawal. It was Tommy who mentioned something about the drug addict's anonymous support group. "I'll even come with ya." His brother offered as he rubbed his back like Joel was a fussy infant instead of a grown man.

So, that's how Joel found himself white-knuckling his way through a DAA meeting with Tommy at his side. Tommy assured him that everything said in the meeting was privileged and couldn't leave the church doors. Joel was safe to say anything, and he would receive support. Still, he was so scared. He just sat and watched. It would take two more months of tears, sleepless nights, and fighting temptation before he found the strength to walk down to the front of the room.

"Hi, my name's Joel and… I'm, uh," he stumbled. "I'm an addict." He shared the bits of his story he felt comfortable sharing, but his hands wrung nervously the whole time. He was waiting for the room to turn on him or for the world to end (again), but it didn't. He said the worst things about himself and everything was… fine. "I just… wanna do better for my," he breathed deeply. "For my Ellie." He awkwardly thanked the group and moved to sit back down when the group leader, a kind-looking woman named Shawna, stopped him.

"How long have you been sober, Joel?" She asked softly, and he cleared his throat.

"'Bout four months, ma'am." He said, and she quickly turned to grab something out of her bag. Before he could ask what she was looking for, she pressed a dented circle into his hand and smiled.

"Now, it ain't as pretty as the ones back in the day, but you should be just as proud." She said before encouraging the group to applaud Joel. He felt silly receiving the praise, but when he sat back down, he couldn't ignore how much better he felt.

He didn't look at what Shawna gave him until after the meeting. He thought it was a personal thing he should see only when alone. He waited until his boots were off and he was comfortable on the couch before fishing the wonky thing out of his pocket and looking at it. It was obviously made from scrap pieces of metal, and the engraving was all wrong, but the words "4 months sober" still made him beam with pride. Joel stared at it for a few minutes before walking upstairs to Ellie's empty room and scribbling a note on her desk.

When Ellie gets home from studying with Dina and Jesse, she finds the coin on her desk beside a note in Joel's blocky handwriting. It reads, "Every single one is for you. It's all for you."

#joel miller angst #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #tlou angst #the last of us angst #the last of us fic #joel and ellie

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 year ago

Note

Caine and kinger x reader with ADHD

Caine and Kinger x reader w/ ADHD

yahoo!! gonna knock out some requests today !! this is gonna be based off of my own experiences btw !! not much else i can think to put in this authors note so! ill just get on with it note from the future, little longer than i intended but thats mostly because admin started relating TOO much wuh-oh

CAINE:

caine is honestly really good about keeping you on track when theres a task at hand. i dont know about you, but i tend to wander about when im working on something; to check on something else repeatedly then coming back to what needs to be done and just go back and forth.(shit im even doing it now, the getting up and checking on things thing even though i know the thing is fine/complete) i like to think that caine would be pretty okay at making sure you get the thing you need/want to do done! i dont think theres meds in the digital world, i mean yeah sure you can ask for them but since theyre digital theyre not going to actually. do anything. but lets say in a hypothetical au where this all takes place in the real world and caine is a real person, he would make sure you take them consistently and on time. honestly this hc isnt really part of the ask but; i generally like to think that caine likes to follow routines and schedules as closely as he can... maybe its the ringmaster thing since hes tasked with keeping everything running but... shrugs

very supportive when you make a small mistake in something (like this is just a general thing, though) and isnt too obnoxious with trying to hold or regain your attention is something happens to the side and steals it away. very patient and polite with it, i think

last minute addition because it hit me like a sack of bricks. time blindness. fucking time blindness. you know how i mentioned that caine is good at keeping you on track? i think he would be good with helping you out with that, at least some of it. mostly logging your activities and him keeping an eye on the time (which he already does so its not like an extra habit he needs to pick up.. though if it werent he would pick it up in a heartbeat. literally anything for you, he loves you a lot)

KINGER:

honestly he might start to mimic your stims and fidgets! he doesnt mean to mock you, no i just think he would start to reflect your actions after spending most of his time around you to make sure you're okay! while caine keeps you on track, kinger is likely to go with you when you wander off to check/do something else. really unless its something time sensitive or really important is when hes going to start outwardly reassuring you that the other thing is fine. honestly, in an au with the real world i was originally going to say he would have a chance of forgetting to help remind you/ask if you took your meds (if you take them) but i think he would take stuff like that way too seriously to even DARE forget. like yeah sure you're not going to d1e if you forget to take them for a single day but still. he'd probably be like this with any meds tbh, so if you're prone to forgetting youll be fine as long as you have kinger around! gibes you pillows for fidget stuff, if you are feeling restless. or perhaps even goes on a walk with you around the circus grounds. like idk about yall, or if this is something completely unrelated, but my legs HURT when i sit too still. like down to the bone, if i dont get up every now and then its agony; sleeping is hell and on days its worse than others (like im talking sometimes i need to be in near constant movement) (also jerky arms and legs) (anyways)

also very polite with returning your attention to where it needs to be but honestly given that kinger himself is shown to space out at least twice in the pilot i think sometimes you guys both get side tracked and struggle to remember and/or get back into the flow of what you were originally doing

ponders

tldr; caine keeps you more on track with schedules whereas kinger embraces your flow a little more but both are respectful of things and dont really make you feel less than + remind you to take care of yourself

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #kinger x reader

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yourtearsaremyink · 8 months ago

Text

It's Just This Once

Chapter 3

Author's note: Enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Not many. Bucky and his PTSD, my life choices to write this, nightmares, Bucky's regret and self hatred. Idk. There's not even language in this thing its mostly fluff.

Summary: Bucky opens up.

Chapter Word Count: 1,764

Chapter 3: As the Storm Rages

"Hey"

"Hi"

Y/N's heart broke the second she saw Bucky. He looked so tired, he was curled in on himself and a little pale. She tried to mask her sadness but didn't succeed very well. He eyed her carefully as she bent down to pick up one of the books she hadn't finished reading from the coffee table. She inched towards the couch and asked,

"Mind if I sit?"

Bucky sighed heavily,

"Free country." He nodded at the opposite side of the furniture. She sat down and stretched her legs towards Bucky, he tensed up a little as she got comfortable. Part of Bucky just wanted to sit in silence but also thought this would be a perfect time to eliminate some of the awkwardness that still lingered from earlier. He risked it and cleared his throat,

"How's Wanda?"

Y/N was confused as to why he was keeping up a conversation.

"She feels guilty." Bucky brought his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"I didn't mean to scare her." His voice was quite and horse from screaming.

"She wasn't scared of you, she was scared for you. We both were."

"You should be scared of me."

"Why?"

"I almost hurt Sam," he put his book in his lap. "and if you and Wanda weren't careful you could have been hurt too."

"You as well, you know. Don't disregard your well-being for our safety, we can take care of ourselves."

Bucky looked away for a moment before replying.

"Did Sam send you in here to lecture me?" He said with a little more bite than he intended.

"Nope. I couldn't sleep so I came in here. Why? Do you want a lecture?" She said it with the same smile she had when she reminded him about his shirt.

"No..."

"Then I won't give you one." She went back to her book and moved her feet closer to him so they lied across his lap. Bucky was skeptical from the start, there was no way she came in here to not try and get him to open up, but what he didn't know is that Y/N really wanted to help him. She again felt obliged to heal his mind as well as his body, she'd be lying if she said she didn't think the nightmare was something of her doing. She wasn't going to push it so she thought it best if he came to her. She noticed how Bucky kept looking back and forth between her and his book.

"Bucky-"

"It was my arm." He interrupted. She immediately panicked thinking he was referring to when she healed him.

"My nightmare, it was about when Isaiah Bradley destroyed half of it."

She was shocked when it dawned on her that he was opening up to her. She put down her book and moved to sit closer on his right side. She gave him a look that said she wanted to hear the rest.

"After the fight in Goyang, I made it back to the Hydra base I was stationed on. To say they were unhappy with my failure would be an understatement, they were furious." He swallowed dryly and put his hands on his knees. Y/N put her hand on top of his and stroked his knuckles with her thumb, encouraging him to continue. She never broke eye contact.

"The handler assigned to me at the time was even more so. He had me tortured and then some. I got a new arm eventually and that was excruciatingly painful. After that they put me in the chair, being there for hours was not uncommon but I was there for days. Making me remember my failure by making me forget. In time I forgot my mistake, but never the punishment. I dreamed of the new arm getting installed, the chair, and the dozen ways they tortured me." He was shaking, "T-the chair used electric shocks to wipe my mind, it always reminded me of lightning, and with lightning comes thunder so... "

It clicked in Y/N's head, that's why he didn't like thunderstorms.

"Oh, Bucky..." She drew him into a hug and held tight, reluctantly he hugged back. She rubbed soothing circles in his back as his breathing shook, she could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. She finally let go as she saw that his eyes were brimming with tears.

"Why did you feel the need to tell me all this?" Bucky had never opened up to her like this before.

"I saw the look you gave me after I woke up, you looked guilty, as if it were your fault." He saw right through her, she tried not to express her inner thoughts when she had the idea it might have been her fault. She glanced away.

"It wasn't believe me, I just hated the thought of you blaming yourself. If anything you should be blaming my broken mind." He gave a sad smile.

"Not broken, hurt." She interlace her fingers with his.

"You are not broken, you're still healing from the things Hydra did to you."

"You're not going to tell me it's time to move on from all of that like everyone else does? "

"Everyone heals at a different pace." He looked down and place his head on her shoulder. She brought up her arms and held him tighter. Thunder once again rumbled outside and Bucky tensed. She moved to a position where they could lean on each other.

"You need to relax. Listen to me and not what's happening outside." She held his hand and they breathed together. She could feel his muscles loosen once again.

"Seems like you can heal more than just bodies, doll."

They sat there content before they both drifted off to sleep.

The two of them woke up to the sound of footsteps. Bucky was laying on his left side with Y/N curled up to his chest and his arm was around her shoulders. They both looked at each other confused until the realized what situation they were in. Their eyes went wide and they quickly moved to sit up. A little panicked, Y/N rolled off the couch and towards the ground. Bucky, in an attempt to catch her, just ended up tumbling onto the floor as well. At that moment they both had the exact same thought, now it's awkward again...

"Uh..." Bucky began but was interrupted.

"Good morning." Sam said walking into the room. They scrambled off the floor and back onto opposite sides of the couch. They looked at Sam as if nothing had happen.

"Good morning!" Y/N and Bucky said in unison. They didn't react other than just staring at Sam. He had a very confused look on his face and asked.

"I was gonna ask if you two wanted coffee."

"Yes please." Y/N said a little too cheerfully.

"Sure." Bucky said trying to play off the tension and not really succeeding.

"Something happen between you two?" Sam pointed between them.

"No." They both said again.

"Uh huh." He said not really believing them. "Don't forget about that 'in the morning' thing Bucky."

"Don't forget about that meeting with Rhodey Sam." Bucky replied in the same tone.

"Yeah, yeah I know." Sam said as he left the room. Bucky and Y/N each let out a breath.

"What meeting with Rhodey?" Y/N asked.

"I don't really know, neither does Sam, Rhodey was pretty vague when he talked about wanting to meet with him."

"We'll find out soon I guess. Come on let's eat breakfast." They made their way down to the kitchen to help Sam. Y/N took over the cooking so Sam could go down stairs and see Rhodey. Wanda even showed up but didn't speak much with Bucky still in the room. Sam came up with their guest and ate breakfast. When they were done, Sam and Rhodey left to talk and Wanda went back to her room. She said she was going to practice some magic but Y/N guessed she was just trying to avoid Bucky. After a while Sam came back to see Bucky and Y/N watching some TV.

"How'd it go?" Bucky asked. They were both curious as to why a meeting was called in the first place.

"Rhodes and I have a mission." Sam sighed as if he wasn't too happy about it.

"What's it for?" Bucky wanted further detail.

"Top secret Air Force assignment. Sorry man." Sam still looked pretty guilty.

"Oh okay. How long?"

"A couple weeks at least." Bucky's heart sunk at his words. His mind began to wonder. What if he had another nightmare like last night? What if he needed Sam to pull him out again and neither of the girls could do it? What if he hurt them?

"I can still be in touch with you guys so it's not like you won't hear from me."

"When are you leaving?" Y/N asked.

"As soon as I pack, which I should get started on now." Sam nodded and walked towards his room, Bucky quickly followed. As soon as they got there Bucky shut the door. Sam knew exactly what was going through his head.

"Are you going to be okay without me here?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I don't like the idea of Y/N or Wanda bringing me out of a nightmare."

"Not Y/N, really?" Sam knew what he saw that morning. "She looks like she can really help you Buck."

"I think she is actually, but I don't want to put her in danger because of me."

"Let her help you, accept that she cares about you and wants to see you happy. We all do." Bucky looked down still unhappy with the fact that Sam is going away for longer than he expected.

"Come here man." Sam said as he brought Bucky into a hug.

"So you gonna tell me what that was this morning?" Sam asked smiling.

"How about I tell you that 'in the morning' thing."

"Sounds good to me."

Bucky told him about his nightmare as he packed. After they were done, they made their way down stairs to see Sam and Rhodey off. Even Wanda arrived to say her fair well. They took off and left the rest of them alone at the Compound. As soon as Sam left Bucky felt a darkness shroud around him. At the same time, Y/N felt her intuition tell her something bad was stirring. They made their way inside as they expected the worst.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #fluff #i wrote this instead of sleeping #nightmares #slow burn #sam wilson #wanda maximoff #author regrets everything #author regrets nothing #fanfic #falcon and the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky fanfic #hurt comfort #hurt bucky barnes #hurt/angst #angst with a happy ending #dont worry it gets better i promise

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i0veless · 2 years ago

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TOXIC ATTRACTION :: KYLIAN MABPPE

𖥻 SUMMARY ー [ a toxic kiss can be so hard to give u ] 𖥻 PAIRING ー [ kylain mabppe x fem! gf! actor! reader ] 𖥻 GENRE ー [ angst, fluff, suggestive content, smut? ] 𖥻 WORD COUNT ー [ 2.3k ] 𖥻 WARNINGS ー [ description of extremely toxic relationships, mention of codependency and addiction to unhealthy relationships, mentions of aggressive sex with hints of no aftercare, mentions of bites and bruises, unhealthy cycles, extreme manipulation, brief mention of an eating disorder, emotional and physical abuse, gaslighting, mentions of being trapped, insecurities, crying lots of fucking crying, excessive drinking, cheating - let me know if I missed anything ] 𖥻 AUTHORS NOTE ー [ requested by anon "I literally heart ur stories omg, if you can, would you make one about mbappe having an absolutely toxic ex gf and he’d usually go run back to her, but this time he has his new girl, and he’s not about to leave her for his ex, so he shuts her down idk" okay I never meant for this to line up with valentines but looks like the universe wants me to be a toxic little bitch so here you go some angst to feed your lovely dovey souls. READ THE WARNING...as there is a lot of really dark and triggering content - also, if you are in a relationship like this, I can say from personal experience it is not worth staying in it so plz leave for you own safety and health. Be safe and enjoy!! ]

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Toxic. That was one way to describe both Y/N and Kylian's previous relationships. They weren't the same, but they weren't that different either. Both were sick and twisted in nature with the sincere and tender love they had promised their partners quickly spoiling into a shackle that had them bonded by the neck - making it hard to breathe.

Kylian's chain came in the form of codependency. At one point, he could not see himself breathing without Monica. The dysfunctional dependency applied to both of them, as they took advantage of each other when they were most vulnerable - taking and taking from each other until they had nothing else to give. However, they took completely different things from each other, something that they thought no one else could give them.

Monica was addicted to attention, maintaining appearances and flashy events with all eyes on her. She was obsessed with being the belle of the ball and having her "perfect" love story - an ideal devotion. Monica could finally live out her deepest and darkest dreams and desires. Basking in the glory of dating a top athlete and having him by her side reminded the mere mortals that she had something they could never have. But his attention was never enough. It never was. And that was her downfall.

She treated Kylian like an article of clothing. Something that she could take on and off as she pleased. Only bothering with him when it suited her, not bothering to put on the facade unless a camera was rolling - painting herself as an angel unless she needed to be otherwise. She knew it was cruel, but she didn't care. She loved the power too much, wanting to hold on to it as long as possible. But her control was short-lived.

While Kylian, on the other hand, was addicted to physical affection. The sex. It was by no means "making love". It was aggressive, fast, and harsh, and it only ever happened when things went wrong if he didn't perform well in a match, got into an argument with a teammate, or the press slandered him once again. All his aggression and frustration turned into a bruise and bit marks on Monica's skin, he knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn't stop himself. When they broke up for the nth time, the moment anything went wrong, Mbappe felt the burning desire to run back to her.

And usually, he did, and she would be waiting for him with open arms (and legs). Ready to satisfy his violent urges while leaching what she needed from him - resting the vicious cycle of hatred and greed. It's not like he intended to be violent, but he had gotten so used to the pain he forgot what it felt like to have something soft and sincere in his heart that wasn't clouded by the need for physical intimacy. That was until he met Y/N L/N.

A broken record is what most would call her. The actor's relationship with Luca had been built on glass and sand. Transparent and fragile. They could see the problems. But they refused to fix them, and even the most gentle breezes would break the carefully constructed balance and leave an unfixable mess. Luca was a jealous man. He ripped out her wings, leaving her unable to escape from him. Luca kept her heart in his hands, handled it carelessly, and still expected her to stay. Not like he would give Y/N the option of leaving, and if she ever thought about it, he would instil fear to make her.

Luca saw her as an emotional punching bag breaking her down with his words. To build her back up and knock her down again. In his eyes, she was a chew toy to play with for entertainment. He loved the power she gave him, how his words meant so much to her, and how she tried desperately to perfect him and make him happy. But the only time he was ever happy was when she was in pain. He was sadistic because he thought he would never lose her. But he did.

Y/N was insecure. And Luca capitalised on that; his harsh words and verbal beat down left her self-esteem in tatters, and she was emotionally unable to cope. Starving herself became a regular occurrence, wearing revealing clothes so that she would be everything that he liked. The actor would never be enough, was all she thought. She didn't deserve Luca - she needed to earn him. She needed to be better. She needed to do better. Be everything he wanted and more. Y/N believed all the harsh words and unhealthy standers he made, taking them as if they were from the bible. In her eyes, he could do no wrong.

When he got angry, she tried to justify it in her head, blaming herself when, deep down, she knew that there was nothing she could do to fix it. Taking all the blame till the point of self-destruction, and when her soul had finally shattered like splints of glass, she drowned herself in alcohol in a small bar in Paris. The same bar where the universe decided that two broken souls would heal each other.

When the two met, they were still miserably taken and had no intention of spending their despair in the presence of others. But somehow, the two ended up talking, downing harsh spirits and spilling their woes and worries to a stranger. Ironically, they were both appalled about how the other allowed themselves to be treated that way, yet they refused to take their own advice. But alcohol made them reckless, and by some miracle made their way to a hotel for the night.

Nothing happened between them, even though the two slept in only their underwear. The two only silently cried in each other embrace as the moon and the stars watched. By morning Kylian was gone leaving nothing but a note with his number written on it. Over the following weeks, the two began exchanging texts for hours at a time, and they seemed happier, and their partners noticed - and did not like it. They slowly watched their iron grip slip from their captives as they found comfort in each other, and it all reached a boiling point one night.

It was late. And Kylian was doing anything but sleeping. Lying on his sofa as he stared blankly at the ceiling, he had a lot on his mind. Monica cheated - again. Neymar told him it would happen, Hakimi, Ramos and Messi too. But he didn't listen. Mbappe thought she would stay as long as the player gave her the spotlight. But he couldn't have been more wrong. He was a tool for her, so, of course, he would be used and discarded. It was in the girl's nature. So when he found Monica unceremoniously naked in their bed, with someone other than him, safe to say he was pissed.

Kicking them out while they were half naked, Monica's screams of protest and attempted explanation did nothing but bring him headache and heartburn. She had sent him text after text and called none stop, so he turned off his phone altogether. Now nothing was in between him and the suffocating silence as his thoughts gnawed away at his hyperalert sanity. It almost made him believe that the ring of the door was fake, that it was his mind's way of playing a nasty practical joke. To make him think that someone cared for him (even though they did) and leave him more disappointed than before and still just as alone.

But the repetition of said doorbell ringing made him open the door. To see someone in an equally sad state as him, Y/N had lost all shame as she stood outside Kylians apartment in a damp t-shirt and some tiny shorts. Her cheeks, stained with tears and mascara, she looked like shit, but that wasn't what caught Mbappe's attention. But more, the ugly yellow hues of bruises that were scattered across her arms and neck.

The two didn't say anything. I mean, what was there to say? It was clear that both of them were at their breaking point, so he just let the girl in without any questions. As Y/N slowly walked into the warm embrace of the apartment, she seated herself on the edge of the sofa - as if she was getting ready to run at any moment. "What happened?" Kylian knew what had happened. He just wanted her to say it out loud, to admit to him that there was a problem, that she needed help. His rage simmered to new heights when he heard "nothing" leave her mouth.

"Nothing", the player hissed as he stood in front of the actress, "that is not fucking nothing", gesturing to the dozens of bruises scattered across her skin as they now morphed into darker purple colour and looked equally as painful as a knife wound. "It was an accident…" that was a lie, they both knew. But the only difference this time is that neither of them believed it. "Was it, though?" the footballer asked as he sat beside her.

"No", Y/N quietly admitted. Her acknowledgement that she wasn't in the wrong lifted Kylian's spirits and gave him hope. She would leave Luca and find someone else who loved her the way she deserved to be loved, but he knew that she wasn't going to leave just because she knew it wasn't her fault (it never was), but the small step was still in the right direction.

Making her strip off her wet clothes and wear some of the old ones that were too small for him - wrapping the fragile girl in a soft blanket and making her a cup of hot chocolate. She was physically okay before he tried to pry information about the situation from her. "What happened" he finally asked the dreaded question, feeling as if the air in her lungs had been sucked out. Y/N struggled to reply.

"I forgot I had a kiss scene in top gun: mavrick. We-we were watching it, and he flipped, and Luca he-" the actress's whole body began to shake in fear as she recalled the incident, her body curling into the sofa as she felt tears once again streak down her face. Acting out of impulse, Kylian pulled the girl into his arms and held her as she wept away all her misery and pain. Rubbing soothing circles on her back and repeating 'it's okay' like it was a new mantra - but it wasn't okay, far from it.

"I don't want to do this anymore." Y/N cried, unsure if she was saying it to Kylian or the universe for putting her in this cruel situation. "You don't have to", the PSG player mumbled, trying to provide some comfort. "I know, but I don't think I can stop." the actress said, crying harder than before. "He's all I've ever known." before Kylian could answer, his landline phone began to ring again, but he didn't need to look to see who it was. It was Monica back for round two.

"Aren't you going to pick up?" she sniffled, looking at him with big teary eyes, "No" he quickly snapped, not wanting to argue on the phone with his ex while she was here. "Why not?" she questioned, curious as to what had happened to his sad excuse of a girlfriend. "we broke up." he said bluntly, "Oh, I'm so sorry…it was because of me, wasn't it." Mbappe didn't know if he wanted to respond to that question.

The truth was, yes. Kylian Mbappé Lottin did break up with Monica Del because of her. Y/N L/N made him realise that no amount of sexual pleasure she gave would ever soothe his raging fire. Not when she calmed his fire with her existence and found himself falling deeply in love with the wounded girl in his arms.

Taking his silence as a definite yes, Y/N spoke without thinking, "Guess Luca was right. I do ruin everything." Safe to say, Kylian was stunned. "Hey, hey, hey, don't fucking say that, angel. You know that's not true." she cried again. "Yes, it is Kylian, you know it is" as much as she didn't like Monica knowing that she was the reason they broke up somehow made her feel even worse than before.

"I was going to leave her anyway, baby" at this point, his white shirt was now partially sheer with her tears. "I know, but I still feel bad." the star tried to calm herself "Kylian, am I a bad person?"

"Listen, Y/N. I may not have known you for long or know all about your struggles. But from what I have seen, you are the kindest and most caring person in the world, even to people who don't deserve it. You are beautiful inside and out and perfect the way you are. And Luca is a bastard who missed out on the chance of a lifetime to love someone like you, and I wish you could see that too."

A single tear spilt from her eyes as if she hadn't cried enough. As Kylian gently wiped the droplet with the pad of his thumb, "I just feel so broken." no amount of kind words could deny that they both were. But they were trying to heal, and the universe had done a sort of service and put them together to help them realise that they needed change. In some ways, you could call them soulmates.

"I guess we are both broken tonight, broken together. But I guess that's just a side effect of toxic attraction." with that, two lips found each other in a kiss, but not the type they were used to. It wasn't harsh or aggressive, no. It was soft and gentle, just like love was supposed to be, as they held on to each other like they would fade away at any moment. They melted into each other's embrace, enjoying their other broken half. Forheads now pressed together, and with noses connecting, Kylian looked at the time - it was midnight. "Happy valentines day, mi amore."

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yoonieper · 1 year ago

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Pecattiphilia— Part 7 | PJM

Pecattiphilia is the sexual arousal from performing an act one believes is a sin.

✽ Pairing: Jimin x Reader

✽ Genre: Angel Au, angst, fluff, smut, this is a slow burn (kinda?)!

✽ Rated: U for Unexpected

✽ Series Warnings: This series will include discussion of religious aspects such as the afterlife and concepts of heaven and hell (There are no direct ties to any specific religion besides the mention of angels and demons— all aspects of religion was created by me for this series), this series includes a lot of violence (sometimes graphic depictions) and gore (nothing extreme, Jimin and the boys fight monsters sometimes), and mentions of sin (particularly revolving around sexual topics)

✽ Chapter Specific Warnings: just a whole lotta angst, angst, more angst, with some fluff on the side~ things do get a little smutty, arguments :O, lots of feelings and emotions good and bad, Jimin… Jimin??

✽ Word Count: 18k

✽ Summary: Jimin is sent to watch over you and as the years go by he gets more and more curious and sometimes just wishes he could get to know you. But he knows that’s forbidden, it's sin. However, a freak accident somehow causes Jimin and your eyes to meet for the first time with purpose. He knows it shouldn’t happen but he doesn’t want to break away. He wants you to look at him, wants you to touch him, wants you to be with him. The problem is none of this should have happened in the first place… what’s happening to him?

✽ Now Playing…: STRINGS by MAX (feat. Bazzi & JVKE)— visit the masterlist for the full playlist!

✽ Author’s Note: This is officially the end of the first installment of this series— the intro has now been concluded after over 2 years 😭! I’ll be taking a little break from here because act 2 officially starts with part 8 and I want to have a couple of chapters completed so I can stay ahead of schedule and not keep you guys waiting like with act 1~ The storyboard for the series has already been completed for the most part and act 2 is definitely a LONG act so lots of fun is still ahead of us! It won’t be till 2024 for the next parts, but this next installment shouldn’t call for as long of a wait in between chapters because they should be more consistently on the shorter side so I should be able to get a lot done a lot more quicker, but once again I’ll make an announcement once I have things figured out~ I also hope that in between I’ll be able to go through some of the early parts and re-edit them because it’s been a solid minute since I first started this series and idk if those parts are holding up as well as they should 😭 I’ll let you guys know about any changes~ Last two things, 1) Spotify playlist is officially on the masterlist and 2) New graphics for this series might be on the way with Act 2 🫢... Anyway, enjoy :D!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much :D

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He was so fucking close.

The pillow Jimin had clutched in his arms felt like the only lifeline he had to stop himself from throwing it all away, his hard work, his purity, his promise. His whole body shook uncontrollably, a feeling he was inexplicably unaccustomed to. Jimin was always in control, every fiber of his being moved and acted in the way he intended it to without fail. That’s how it always was and always how it should be— him in control.

This was new. It was not the same type of new that gave him a fresh breath of life, a new perspective of the world, that fleeting craving of wanting to understand. It was a new that made him so easily miss the old. This was bad, he didn’t like it.

It was too human, too unpredictable.

Even though he was off of you he couldn’t get it out of his head— the softness of your body in his grasp, that lingering warmth of your hands across his skin, your bodies pressed against each other in a heat of emotions. It just kept playing over and over again even as you laid right next to him and his body just couldn’t stop shaking.

He wanted to stop himself, he wanted to think he tried, but his hips kept steadily rocking into his firm grasp of the pillow, craving that it was your warmth he was meeting instead.

If only… If only.

He felt depraved and if his teammates could see him now, he just knew they would have the most to say. He probably looked pathetic and this sight would have made him laugh with disgust in the past.

Yet here he was…

It hurt so fucking much— his pained whines and moans filled the growing silence in your room despite how much he tried to stop them.

He had been so close, if you kept going any longer… too close, he was too close to—

“Jimin?” At the sound of your voice he finally found the strength to look over at you. An immediate flood of guilt hit him at once, but deep down this strange sense of pride did too.

He had failed, but that also meant you were wrong and he was glad to prove you so.

“Are— are you happy now?” He said into the pillow, needing to pull it as close as possible because your robe had slipped off of one of your shoulders giving him a glimpse of the lingerie set you were wearing underneath.

Oh he was truly pathetic. Just a sliver of skin was enough to make him feel like this?!

It hurt so much… For the first time in his life he was willing to do anything to take away the pain— even if that meant doing it himself. Somehow he keeps growing more shameless as this whole situation gets worse. But he must not fall into temptation. It was sin and he was better than that. He had to be.

His wrist hurt so much at this point, his whole body ached. Sin, he’s done so much sin but this was good, he needed it to hurt.

“I told you, you’re mine.” Jimin couldn’t help but smirk to himself.

It felt so fucking good for you to finally see him— the real him according to you. The dream world was the same as the normal plane to him, but for some reason humans didn’t see it the same way.

But being here now you had no reason to run off with someone else. You were his.

He’d hoped this would warrant a better reaction, a celebration even, but he didn’t even need to ask to know that wasn’t the case.

“I… I have to be dreaming…” You seemed dazed almost as you tried to look around at your surroundings, looking for any hint you still might be asleep. You had to be, Jimin didn’t exist, he—

“Are you seriously still doing that?” Jimin groaned into the pillow before turning to face you, because he was tired of this ignorant act.

What more would it take?

“I’m asleep right now— just feeling guilty about the date later— that’s all this is…” But the more you looked the more deep down you knew things were different this time.

“Look at me.” His tone was demanding, immediately commanding you for his attention. You couldn’t help but obey his order and turned so you were staring directly into his light brown eyes.

So enchanting, haunting, he was beautiful.

He seemed different, looked different, he was glowing almost.

Jimin steadily moved the pillow to the side and moved so he was sitting right in front of you. It was almost intimidating, his presence carrying this weight that was just bordered overwhelming.

“Is that what you want, hm?” He definitely was upset.

“You want this to be a dream so bad so you can go on your date— just leave me and you can run off with you boyfriend, since apparently we’re done, is that right?” He let out a dark laugh.

“But you can’t be real…” Your voice started to waver the more you looked at him. You gripped the sheets underneath you tightly.

“I think I really lost my mind.” You tried to compose yourself but the cracks were just getting bigger.

“And you really believe that?” Jimin laughed again but it was different this time, sadder, like he truly was hurt. He sat up so he was hovering over you, only inches from your face.

“It has to be because I looked!” Your emotions were starting to boil over.

“I looked everywhere! Why are you just now showing up, right before I’m trying my best to move on?!” Tears had started streaming down your cheeks.

“If Jimin really was real, the one I met in my dreams, why would he show up now? Had he not heard me plead every single night that by some miracle he’d show up, why would he suddenly manifest into my room now and make things complicated?” Pain, it hurt so much to even look at him.

Jimin felt the guilt immediately wash over him. Sometimes it was easy to forget who he was dealing with. You were human— a simple creature that could somehow have him on his knees with the snap of your fingers.

Of course you would have trouble understanding.

His gaze changed at your outburst, there was this sympathy behind his warm eyes, an understanding that this wasn’t as black and white as he was trying to make it out to be.

Jimin looked into your eyes as he lifted his hand to steadily wipe away the tears that just wouldn’t stop flowing.

They really wouldn’t.

His hand was warm and sent sparks all throughout your body. How? How were you feeling this?

It was easier to say maybe you really lost your mind and you were seeing things but you could feel him. The touch you’d longed for since your first date under the tree, and it was everything you wanted and more.

Unless you’d really crossed the line or died trying to get ready for your date, you just knew this was real, Jimin was really here with you somehow.

He chuckled at that. “No, you’re not dead yet. I’m here, I’m sorry I’m late.” And there was that smile, that same one that greeted you when you first wandered through the field in your dreams.

This was Jimin, your Jimin, the same one you’ve met almost every night for the last three months. He was here…

How?

How the fuck was he here?

Instinctively you backed up so you were pressed right against your headboard, pulling your robe closer to hug at your body for comfort. The air around you both shifted almost immediately.

“Who… who are you?” Your voice wavered for an entirely different reason.

You watched as his expression fall, his warm eyes growing dimmer by the second. You could tell you hurt his feelings.

“It’s— it’s me Jimin.” He still tried to keep the smile but he could just sense your uneasiness.

“Jimin?” You still couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah me, Jimin.”

“Jimin who?” It was a strange question he didn’t get at first.

“Just Jimin… your Jimin, the same one you’ve always known.” He tried again.

You just looked at him for a little while and even though Jimin was always in your head, he couldn’t make sense of the thoughts racing around in your mind. He knew he didn’t like them.

You moved even further away, his words seemingly bringing no comfort.

“How?— I just don’t understand.” You were beyond confused and just looking at him made you feel like you lost your mind.

Jimin tried to stay calm knowing this was a lot to process for you.

“Well, that would be a little hard to explain—“

“Why are you here?” You asked before he could even finish. You were up and off the bed pacing around your room before he could process the question.

This wasn’t at all what he pictured if a time ever came he revealed himself to you. He tried to stop himself from getting angry that you were reacting like this.

“For you! To hopefully stop you from leaving me!” Is that not obvious?

“What are you?!” This almost felt like an interrogation in how you were grilling him, yet he wasn’t sure if you were even listening to anything he had to say.

“Your angel, I told you this! Your guardian, I watch over—“

He wasn’t able to finish before suddenly you loudly sighed as you took a seat at the edge of the bed, facing away from him.

Jimin just stared at you as your hands came up over your face. He could hear your soft whimpers and he didn’t need to be close to see you were shaking. This wave of hurt washed over him all over again for an entirely different reason.

“Did you… did you not want me here?” There was this defeated, dejected tone to his voice making the question that much more weightier.

You quickly turned around and he could see the tears in your eyes, you looked absolutely destroyed.

“I don’t know!” You exclaimed, but it sounded more like a sob than anything. The confession immediately felt like he was shot everywhere in his body— something he’s experienced and the pain couldn’t even compare to what he felt like now.

“This is too much— angel— you’re here! And I have a date I’m supposed to go to an hour and a half from now!” You cried. It was obvious you were overwhelmed, Jimin knew that but this pain didn’t let that fact process and he was taking your words at face value.

Jimin scooted further away from you so he was sitting at the opposite edge of the bed.

“Well I’m sorry I interrupted… I’ll leave if you want me too.” His voice had turned flat, devoid of all emotion, but his hands were shaking.

At this point he fully expected you to beg him to get out. He would have listened, at that point what left was there to stay for? He certainly didn’t expect you to suddenly get up, walk around the bed so you were standing right in front of him.

Jimin hesitantly looked up and the heart he didn’t have just shattered into pieces seeing how wet your face was. He hurt you, didn’t he?

“I’m confused— I can’t even process the angel thing, but I just can’t get past the question of why are you here?!” It came out mean and even though he knew what you meant by it, it still didn’t hurt any less.

Jimin just looked down. He didn’t want to see you right now.

“I told you.”

“But I just— why now?! Why didn’t you come sooner?! Days ago when Jin-Sang asked me, weeks before it happened? Why didn’t you come to me during our first meeting?!” This was horribly timed, too much was happening, you were confused and you were taking it all out on him.

Jimin finally found the strength to look up again.

“I couldn’t.”

“WHY?!” You didn’t mean to yell but you just couldn’t understand.

Suddenly Jimin stood up right in front of you. You were a little taken aback, seeing him stand for some reason made this whole situation that much more real having him right in front of you like this. He was taller than you, not by much, but enough you had to look up at him. It was a little intimidating considering the situation.

“I’m not supposed to be here— I tried meeting you the way I knew how, but I couldn’t lose you to the fact you didn’t think I was real!” He could only muster just sounding slightly annoyed.

“So what I’m hearing is that it took Jin-Sang asking me out to get you to come but not me wanting you here was enough...” You knew that’s not what he was saying but it’s how you felt.

Jimin just looked absolutely defeated.

This wasn’t at all how this was supposed to go.

“Y/n you have no idea what I’m risking being here! I wish I could have been here sooner! For you to think I don’t care— do you know how much I need to care to be here! I don’t care about any other human but you! Jin-Sang has nothing to do with this.” He didn’t yell but you could tell he was upset.

You could see it in his eyes— the light brown color growing darker by the second.

It was different when this was all in your head but now that he was actually standing here the weight of the term angel became frightening. You had no idea what he could do to you?

Who was he really?

Jimin looked down again, your thoughts were overwhelming and he honestly just wanted to leave. He was scaring you after all.

“I’ll leave if you want me to.” Jimin was trying so hard to keep it together. This was the normal plane, a breakdown certainly wouldn’t mean well here.

“Jimin I— I’m just confused, scared, too much is happening.” You didn’t like seeing him upset but the way your heart was rapidly beating in your chest made the only thing in control was your brain trying to survive, and not your heart.

“I’m sorry— I ruined your day for you. You were excited about your date and I came at a bad time. You can still make it on time if you hurry— Jin-Sang is almost done getting ready and heading out soon.” He tried to force a smile but he probably looked like he was seconds away from bursting into tears— he couldn’t but it sure looked like it.

Jimin hastily tried to push past you toward your bedroom door, but you grabbed his wrist before he could get too far.

You watched as he looked down at your hand before slowly trailing up your body to meet your eyes.

“Just give me time, ok?” Your words said one thing but your hand was shaking.

You were absolutely terrified of him.

That hurt worse than any of your words did.

“Good luck with your date— I’ll be around.” Jimin pulled his arm from your grasp and headed for the door.

“Jimin—“ You called out once his hand grabbed hold of the handle.

He stood there for a second, seemingly lost in thought before turning to you.

“I can’t believe you’d think that I’d ever—“ You were scared of him for a reason. Being shocked is one thing, something he could understand considering the nature of your reality, but you were literally shaking around him. He obviously didn’t do something right leading up to this for you to even think of that possibility.

“I’m sorry… I guess I really was bad at this, huh?” It was a pained laugh, Jimin just wanted to disappear.

Before you could even respond you watched as he pulled open the door and walked out of your room. You tried to case after him, but the door closed right in your face.

Hurried you pulled open the door but you were just met with your empty apartment. Jimin was nowhere in sight.

In actuality he wasn’t far, he was right in front of you. He had finally turned back around to see your panic at the fact he was gone. When you went to look further into your apartment you simply phased right through him when you went to see if you somehow missed him.

Jimin didn’t follow you, he just collapsed right there.

The storm clouds were back and he was soaked in a matter of seconds. He didn’t have words anymore, it hurt too much to try and think about it.

For once he wanted to close his eyes and know peace.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The first thing you did afterward was text Jin-Sang that you couldn’t make it to your date later. You said something vague about something coming up suddenly and you wouldn’t be able to be there. He responded back by first asking if you were ok, you told him you were, and then gave you this cute sad face before sending his last text.

Jin-Sang [3:22pm]: ah well :(

Jin-Sang [3:23pm]: maybe next time!

You felt bad but going on a date was the last thing on your mind considering what you thought was your very make-believe boyfriend turned out to be a very real person who suddenly magically appeared in your room only hours before you were about to go on a date with someone else.

A date was out of the question.

It was crazy and sounded like something out of a weird romance book you probably would have never picked up.

You honestly were wondering if you made up the whole encounter in your head considering its absurdity, but when you went back to your room your date clothes were crumpled up on the floor right where Jimin laid.

This whole thing didn’t make any sense, how, how, how was he here?

You honestly couldn’t wrap your head around it and the more you thought about all the moments you shared with each other in your dreams you started looking at everything with a new perspective.

At the moment all you could think about was the terrifying implications but as you laid back down on your bed, it was somewhat equally as fascinating.

Angels exist? And for some reason one of them liked you?

You!

Why you?!

You of all people?

You weren’t anything special— you weren’t the most beautiful person in the world, you certainly weren’t the smartest, for an angel of all people to like you…? YOU?!

It sounded like the start of some stand up routine, one you wouldn’t find very funny.

And Jimin?

An angel?!

The stuff he managed to do in your dreams, you remembered the wings, those wings, the stories he’d tell, and the fact he was in your head all the time.

Part of you probably would have been wondering if any of that were things that transferred to reality, but you explicitly remembered Jimin was in your head just like in your dreams. This was wild, terrifying, and you wanted to know more.

Then there was the whole thing about your relationship.

He lied to you. Well, he technically didn’t lie, but he wasn’t being truthful about who he was. He made you believe this entire time he wasn’t real and swooped in right at the last minute to reveal he was.

What even were you now?

It was too much, this entire day was just a roller coaster of emotions. You couldn’t text or call Mina and rant to her about how crazy things went today, she would just think you’re crazy.

All you pretty much did all day was pace around your apartment— you probably did look like you’re crazy, talking out loud to yourself trying to make sense of everything or what you should do going forward.

You also felt bad for what you said to him.

Now having a moment to think, your reaction was a bit much and he had every right to be mad at you. Too much was happening and you definitely regretted some of what you said— some of it you still thought was justified.

It was complicated, you thought this whole situation was a mess. You felt like you had been run through the washing machine five times in a row and then the world just had to give you that extra spin cycle because apparently that wasn’t enough. At some point you finally just had to sit down.

It was only 9:30 but you were out in a matter of ten minutes. No dreams, maybe Jimin had left from protecting you tonight, but instead it was just nightmares— nightmares about him oddly enough.

Some were worse than others— In one you were married, he wasn’t an angel, it was just you, Y/n and Jimin married with a house together— no kids yet you don’t think. It was a dream almost for the most part, you both doing domestic things like cooking and laundry. It all took a turn when you had asked Jimin to help you find some of your old textbooks— you had wanted to review before the semester started and Jimin had been kind enough to help you. When you went into your storage room you had both rummaged through a few unpacked moving boxes but your search was interrupted when you turned around and you were face to face with a monster.

It was strange, scary, it was fuzzy now but immediately the figure put their hand– it was cold and slimy, you did remember that– they put it over your mouth when you tried to scream out to Jimin.

But the figure spun you around so you could see it wasn’t the only one, before you could even process the whole thing, the one that was after Jimin took a knife to his chest and then it slowly dragged his lifeless body into this strange darkness.

Absolutely terrifying and you woke up in a cold sweat each and every time but that didn’t compare to the other ones that plagued your mind overnight.

Jimin was the scary monster dragging you down.

You didn’t know where this came from but you did all at the same time.

You were scared of him— not of Jimin specifically— or maybe you were, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t forget his eyes right before he left. That was your Jimin the same one you saw every night, it’s more so the fact you didn’t understand exactly what he was and his presence.

You could never forget how it felt when he was close to you. It was weighty, commanding, yet warm and light at the same time. You didn’t want to look away.

There was so much you didn’t understand you couldn’t help but be scared. You felt bad though because deep down for some reason you knew there wasn’t any reason to be, it was a more of a natural human reaction for something you didn’t understand.

You still didn’t think it was right though.

You had gone to bed early but because of the constant nightmares you were stuck tossing and turning all night. You were exhausted even though on the clock it said you slept 12 hours, waking up five or six times in between made all of that useless.

You were tempted to try and sleep more but you didn’t want any more nightmares and despite your exhaustion you just knew you couldn’t sleep with all the thoughts swimming around in your head. You had to face this issue head on or you’d never be able to sort through everything and figure out what you actually wanted.

Somehow you found the energy to get up and go shower, finally giving you the opportunity to change out of your lingerie and robe into some actual comfy clothes. The shower helped slightly in waking you up and just gave you a chance to temporarily wash all your worries and stress away that you needed to before trying to do this again.

It was refreshing and after a little breakfast you felt rejuvenated enough to finally make the move you knew you needed to.

You looked around your apartment wondering how you were supposed to do this. Part of you was even worried that yesterday was all another one of your nightmares, but deep down you knew.

“Jimin?” You called out, hesitantly. You instantly felt a little crazy.

Was this how you were supposed to do this? Could he hear you? Was he even around after what happened yesterday? Did yesterday actually even happen?!

“Jimin.” You tried again a little more calmly but you still felt so unsure of yourself. You were standing in the living room but you decided to take a seat on the couch.

“Look, Jimin I don’t know if you’re listening— if yesterday actually happened or not, maybe you’re gone after how I treated you… but… I needed some time to process things and if you wanted to talk about things…” You groaned, was this actually working?

“I’m sorry… I really want to see and speak to you again. Can we start over?” You said out into the void.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” You jumped at the sudden sound of another voice. You turned your head to the right and low and behold there was Jimin once again, the same Jimin you saw yesterday.

He was sitting at the other end of your couch and had one of the cushions in his lap. He held the same dejected expression that honestly seemed worse than the last time you saw each other.

It was like how you saw him in your dreams before this whole fiasco started— gone was that Jimin who would happily embrace you with open arms, who’s smile would light up the entire universe if possible, instead he seemed desolate, despondent, dispirited as he held his head low, not looking at you, but the pillow in his lap.

You tried your best to calm your beating heart because he literally manifested out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you again.” You vaguely picked on his use of again. An overwhelming amount of guilt came over you just hearing how sad he seemed. This was all your fault.

“I just— you can do that? Disappear and reappear?” You tried to laugh as you turned to him. You wanted to lighten the mood, things were so tense now.

But the silence continued and you figured he wasn’t going to respond to that. Just sitting next to him though it slowly started to dawn on you that yesterday did in fact happen, Jimin was real, and you were talking with an angel… literally!

The nerves were back all over again but you tried not to let them show.

“Jimin I—… I’m really sorry about yesterday.” You finally had to say something.

“Things just happened so fast, it was so sudden and I really… I was really overwhelmed.” You laid it out and you were honest. You were still overwhelmed but with a little bit of sleep and time you felt like you were in a better space to process the situation.

He was still silent. You hated this.

In a bold effort in order to get him to talk to you, you quickly scooted over to his side so you were sitting right beside him. Your thigh was right against his, and the minute you got close you were blessed with that enchanting presence you felt yesterday. It was strange, but you liked it, it made you feel all tingly inside.

Being this close also gave you a chance to really see him. His beautiful dirty blonde hair was a little curly and longer than it was in your dreams, it was pretty in the way it came down and framed his round face. It looked so soft just like he seemed, his features so delicate like a statue that seemed too lifelike to be made of marble. How someone this beautiful could exist didn’t seem possible and surely he could never be human.

Maybe you should have known sooner.

“Y/n you don’t need to pretend… I’m in your head, remember?” Jimin quietly said, taking you out of your thoughts.

You knew what he was talking about and at first you wanted to deny it but you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“Then talk to me, explain why I shouldn’t be scared?” You pleaded. You wanted some type of explanation at what was going on.

“Who are you?” You asked once again. You needed some type of answers.

Jimin was silent again for a while and at first you worried this meant he wouldn’t talk to you. Maybe he was done after what happened yesterday.

“I never lied to you… I told you who I was when we first met. You just didn’t believe me.” You weren’t prepared for the cute pout he spoke with as he played with his fingers in his lap.

Oh.

“It was kinda hard to believe you when you were telling me in my dreams. Even then I thought that was just like— you know, I’m so sweet, I’m such an angel type thing. Not literally!” You exclaimed. How were you supposed to know he was being serious?

“I guess you’re right— I’m not used to humans and I wrongly thought you got the picture.” He briefly looked over at you and even though you were sitting down, the glance you had at his eyes made a shiver run up your spine. The light brown color was back and something about them just made you want to never look away.

It was enough that you nearly glossed over what he said.

“Jimin, I’m sure you know I have a lot of questions…”

Jimin steadily nodded his head. You probably didn’t even need to ask, he was in your head already to know what you were thinking. Yet he still left the floor open to you to ask first.

“How much can I ask?” You asked curiously. There had to be some limitations right?

“You’re right, I can’t really tell you about what I do…” He mentioned.

“What can you tell me then?”

Jimin thought about it for a second.

“Basically what I said to you yesterday— I’m in charge of watching over you, protecting you from the sin in the world up until you meet your end.” It was the most bare bones answer and certainly over summarized, but it got the job done.

“And that time you left, was that to protect me?” That was certainly not the question he expected you to ask next.

“Well— yes and no. It wasn’t you specifically— protecting you is my main duty but not the only one. Sometimes the bad guys are far away and my team and I need to take care of it.” Again another bare bones answer but it got the point across.

You steadily nodded and Jimin didn’t need to read your mind to know you were already starting to get overwhelmed.

“That’s as much as I can say, but I hope that helped.” He wanted to comfort you, to tell you things would be alright but any wrong move and he feared it would be enough to get you to panic again.

“It did— thank you.” You wanted to ask more, he knew you did, but there was one thought that was louder than the others.

“Am I the only person you’ve watched?” You asked.

Jimin shook his head. “Far from it actually, hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions would be an understatement.” He’s been around for so long, even with a perfect memory, the details like specific numbers can get fuzzy.

“Is this then your first time here on earth or— you know…”

Jimin once again shook his head.

“Then— then I can’t be the only person who’s been in your life like I have, right.” Your voice started to waver. “There must be hundreds, thousands, millions then that you’ve gotten close to.” You rushed out before he could answer.

The urge to pull you close was almost suffocating.

“I… you’re the first.” Jimin finally turned to you and your eyes…

“Angels don’t really feel much most of the time. Besides being their protector, I felt nothing more than what my duty required. You’re different…” He made sure to add that last part. You needed to know.

“I— I don’t understand. Why me?!” You questioned but your eyes were watery wondering what possibly made you special.

Jimin looked off into the distance trying to think of an answer.

“I honestly have no idea— I don’t understand it either.” That was not the best response, he knew it as soon as it left his mouth. He was being honest though, he had no idea what was truly causing this to happen.

It certainly wasn’t normal, he shouldn’t feel anything, it shouldn’t even be possible for him to be capable of feeling anything.

Some days Jimin honestly wondered if all it might just be is surface level attraction— you weren’t the first human he’s at the very least been attracted to, far from it actually. But never once had he ever wanted to pursue anything more than looking— if you enjoy looking at something, what is the harm in indulging that far?

Nothing and anything further than that was sin anyway. He had no desire… no desire for the most part until John and his relationship was Ana, but even that was a fraction of what he experienced with you.

And somehow it got so much worse in the recent months, right before he met you, right before he collapsed in your living room, it just got to the point where his feelings were suffocating. He wanted to meet you, actually meet you and get to know you.

It was far beyond the simple attraction, his insides felt strange anytime he’d even look in your direction. And then all the extra emotions, new ones, ones that felt over saturated. No, this was something entirely new.

Jimin was certainly attracted to you but it was more than that. It had to be.

Maybe the smart thing to do would have been to quickly follow that up with the last thing said, but instead the silence lasted for a little too long where it made it seem like that was all he had to say.

Jimin felt your heart start to break. “Oh ok— well umm— I’m sorry for— for— for—“ You were shaking beside him and he knew he had to do something.

This might have been a little too forward considering he was literally trying to convince you not to be scared of him, but he wanted to do anything to take the feelings away. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close.

“That’s not what I meant at all. I wish you could read my mind too because I suck at this talking thing.” He tried to laugh as his thumb gently stroked your arm. He really did feel bad, he shouldn’t make you feel like this.

“Angels aren’t really made for this— that’s why at first I tried to get close to you without crossing that line as much as I could. I didn’t want to hurt you because I’m not human and I don’t feel what you do. It’s why I said it meant so much to me when you said you were willing to try despite my incompetence. I get that it was in the context of a dream for you, but it was very real to me.” The reality dawned on him. Maybe you only said yes because it was a dream, but real life implications weren’t ones you were willing to put up with.

Maybe this was all his fault. Maybe the real reason he strictly met you in your dreams was because the terms and conditions he came with, he knew you would never agree to them in anything other than a dream.

It was pathetic.

A realization also hit you as he spoke. Jimin truly had once never lied to you or even really withheld any information. This was all things you’ve heard before, albeit without the proper context, but he had told you this before.

“I still don’t get it… why me?” You asked again because it just wasn’t making sense.

“I don’t have that answer but I do know that I’m glad it is. I’ve had a lot of opportunities to turn back but every time I meet you I never want to leave your side. I choose you and I will keep choosing you as long as you let me. A lot of this doesn’t make sense to me but for once I want to stop thinking and just embrace what is happening. You’ve allowed me to experience so much and I want to keep making new ones with you if you’ll allow me to.” It was a selfish ask, for him to want to put you through the pain that he knew he would enviably cause you.

It was a lot and you were overwhelmed again. There was one part of you that just wanted to leap into his arms that despite what happened yesterday you truly were exalted to find out he was actually real. All that hoping and wishing and now he’s sitting beside you on your couch. Then there was the other half that wanted to run away from society as a whole and become a hobbit somewhere in the woods because everything was too much to take at this point.

“Are you still scared of me?” Jimin asked timidly.

Again the urge to reassure him but you knew he was in your head to know you were lying.

“Not as much but it’s still a lot.” You laid it out. It was simply because this was all still so new and there was so much you didn’t understand about him. You were sure with time things might change.

“I can give you time. It’s a lot, I understand.” Jimin pulled you a little closer to reassure you, everything was fine and that he’d wait if he needed to.

“Thank you.” You weakly smiled.

Despite your words, part of you hoped he would stay and let you rest in his arms like this, it was nice. But just as you were really getting comfortable you felt Jimin suddenly shift. You looked up at him and you were shocked to see him looking off into the distance with a concerned look on his face. His eyes suddenly turned from a warm, light brown, into that blue that reminded you of the ocean.

“Uh— Y/n I’m sorry to cut this short but duty calls and I have work to do.” Jimin said hastily as he started moving you off of him.

You watched confusingly as he quickly got off the couch and reached in his pocket, pulling out this gold cylinder. You only saw it briefly but you were immediately captivated by the designs in the metal, they seemed so intricate, like someone spent an eternity crafting the piece into perfection. You wanted to take the time to study it more but he was moving so fast, it was hard to see anything exactly.

You had questions, a lot of questions actually and you knew Jimin knew.

“I’m sorry I can’t answer them, but when you’re ready to talk again I’ll be around.” He turned and you just felt this warmth wash over you as you stared into his light blue eyes. He was beautiful and the more you looked the more you knew you had nothing to be afraid of.

“Just call me like you did this time and I’ll be there.” He smiled at you. All your worries for a moment felt like they flew away for a second, it was just you and Jimin and his dazzling smile.

You were starstruck.

And if things couldn’t get anymore magical you watched as a pair of wings manifested right in front of your eyes, slowly unfolding and becoming more visible. It felt time itself slowed as you watched, the feathers themselves seemed to illuminate and sparkle in the sunlight. They probably spanned nearly the entire size of your living room, you were briefly able to turn behind them, just shy of touching the wall behind you. Just like in your dream they didn’t connect to his back, instead slowly becoming more visible. It was glorious and an overwhelming urge to tear up just hit you like a brick to the face.

This was Jimin— the Jimin you’ve known since he first appeared in your dreams except he was really here with you. The sight was nothing like what you saw in your dreams anytime he’d somehow convince you to fly with him. This was him, really him.

You wanted to cry and tell him not to leave but you held it in.

In one of the most confusing sights ever with one last smile toward you, you watched as he turned toward one of your windows before looking like he was ready to run straight into the wall. He probably only took two steps before it’s like he was sucked into a black hole, getting smaller to the point you couldn’t see him anymore.

He was gone and you were alone again.

You finally let the tears just fall from your eyes and they did almost uncontrollably, you were bawling in a matter of seconds.

What just happened?

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You were laid out on your bed when you got the text from Mina.

Mina [8:02pm]: Hey friend~ Just wanted to know how your date went with Jin-Sang last night 👀?

And suddenly you were back in reality.

You hadn’t done much all day as all your mind could focus on was Jimin, Jimin, and more Jimin. You had even decided to call out of work tomorrow knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to get anything done feeling this.

So much has happened it was easy to forget the outside world existed. You almost forgot what prompted everything in the first place, that you were supposed to go out with Jin-Sang yesterday and how Jimin had suddenly manifested into your room as a result.

You grabbed your phone and stared at your keyboard for a while wondering what to type. Do you tell her about Jimin? Certainly not everything but at least the fact that the mystery guy you were seeing showed up.

Mystery guy?

He certainly wasn’t a mystery anymore, at least, not in the same way.

What were you now anyway?

Beforehand you were confident when you thought of Jimin as your boyfriend that lived in your head, but now could you even say that anymore?

Jimin turning out to be real really shook the foundations of your relationship, if anything were to continue you would at least need to start over slightly in order to build a new one all over again.

And this isn’t as simple as just that, but Jimin wasn’t human. He was an angel and you found that incredibly intimidating. There was so much you didn’t know or understand. He didn’t tell you much but you already knew dating wouldn’t be exactly an easy task and the issues you would face wouldn’t be like any other couple.

There was so much to consider that as much as you liked Jimin, you did, you really did, agreeing to just pick things up where you left off felt like a decision that was not as easy as you wanted it to be.

And Jimin heard your struggle. At first he was chilling in his spot on the building across from your apartment but as your thoughts started to focus more so on the nature of your relationship, he flew back over to your room and sat at the end of your bed.

You decided to text Mina.

You [8:10pm]: Won’t be at work tomorrow

You [8:10pm]: We can talk about it when I get back on Tuesday :)

Mina [8:11pm]:You okay??

You [8:12pm]: I’m fine, just a lot happened ㅠㅠ

Mina [8:13pm]: I can call if you need me to

You [8:13pm]: I’m fine!

You [8:14pm]: Just need some time!

Mina [8:14pm]: You sure?

You [8:15pm]: Yeah, thank you though :3

Mina [8:16pm]: See you on Tuesday then, I’ll be waiting for the tea 👀~

You [8:17pm]: See you :)!

Mina [8:18pm]: Goodnight!

You [8:19pm]: Night!!

Jimin didn’t even need to see your phone to know what your texts were and he was curious what you were going to tell her. Part of him wanted to follow his promise and give you the space and time you needed to process it all and only be there when you wanted him.

But it was that strange feeling that had him appearing in your room in the first place when he thought about you seeing Jin-Sang again that made him want to make sure you knew who you belonged to before seeing him again.

Maybe if he was more confident in the fact you would choose him he wouldn’t care too much, but he wasn’t sure and so weren’t you.

The fact that you might not even be together anymore made that feeling, this incipient need to remind you what you were even though the situation has significantly changed. He wanted you, he didn’t want you to leave him— to pick some human over him.

You deserved better and for some reason he thought he could give you that.

You can’t love her like she wants.

I want to though and I will prove it.

You will hurt her.

I won’t.

You will hurt you. You will hurt us.

She matters more.

This will only end in tragedy.

But Jimin didn’t want to listen anymore. His other half has caused him more turmoil than anything. Listening made him hurt you and if he was going to make you choose him, the more rational side was not needed when nothing he was doing anymore was rational.

He knew that but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as much anymore. All he wanted right now was to win you back and he’d do anything it takes to make that happen.

Anything, he’d do anything for you.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

You really didn’t know why at first you decided to take Monday off, this weekend had just been so much you acted without thinking. Maybe work would have given you the chance to think about something else other than what transpired but it was already too late to take it back.

It was Monday and you had a whole day ahead of you to try and figure this out. Then again, one day also didn’t seem like enough.

You were back on your couch again trying to rewatch Reply 1988 to take your mind off things, but you couldn’t focus. All your mind could seem to do was think about Jimin. What were you going to do?

You thought about his beauty, his glorious wings, the golden cylinder, the way Jimin just seemed to sparkle in the sunlight. You thought about all the dates you had in your head, the good times you shared. You also thought about how much you would plead every night when you’d wake up that somehow, somewhere Jimin existed and you would meet someday.

You still doubted at times that this weekend actually happened, it felt unreal, and you were trying to come to terms with the fact despite its outrageousness, somehow this was all real. It was too much.

Your wish came true and as guilty as you felt you still didn’t know exactly how you felt about it. Jimin showing up out of nowhere sounded good in your head, but the implications didn’t exactly register. You never thought it would need to.

You never thought that would mean the Jimin you’ve been meeting in your dreams was an angel.

An angel.

An angel?!

It made your head spin just thinking about it.

At some point you just knew you had to get out the house because you were just going to keep spiraling if you let yourself stay here and wallow in your own thoughts.

You didn’t really have a destination in mind, you just found yourself getting ready. Maybe you’d just take a walk, maybe some retail therapy, maybe a nice meal was what you needed?

You had no idea and ultimately you just decided to feel it out when you got there.

You were wearing shorts and a simple t-shirt, today was too hot for anything more than that and to be honest you had no interest in trying to dress up a little more. All you wanted was to get out of the confines of your apartment to hopefully give you a moment to breathe and take your mind off things.

You looked around making sure you had everything.

Keys, wallet, water, etc, etc— you put everything in your little backpack. You had no idea what this day might bring so you decided to pack light. After another check around your place making sure you grabbed everything you might want to bring, you put your phone in your pocket and headed for the door.

You pulled it open already trying to somewhat plan a direction you were trying to head to but you didn’t make it far. Instead you stood there in the door frame completely frozen in place, staring out in front of you with wide eyes.

“Hello!” An enthusiastic voice said to you.

You nearly fell over and screamed but of course he was quicker and held you up so you wouldn’t just crumble into pieces.

“Woah, you ok?” Jimin asked, genuinely concerned seeing he had to hold your waist to keep you from collapsing.

Your heart was beating so fast you swore you were moments away from a heart attack. You felt stuck as you stared up at his honey brown eyes peering into yours.

The dots finally connected and you realized this was Jimin who was waiting in front of your door and who had to hold you up.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I thought it’d be a cute surprise… I’m sorry.” Jimin tried to laugh but he really did feel bad, he didn’t know he’d scare you that bad.

Realizing also you were moments away from hitting the floor, you reached your hands out to wrap around his neck so he could pull you up. Jimin got the picture but in the moment you didn’t realize it would have you close— or as close as you’ve been since you found out Jimin was real.

You just stared into each other’s eyes as he helped you back up to your feet and even then the moment didn’t end as Jimin didn’t immediately take your hands off your waist. The moment reminded you of how things were when you were still in your head, before things got complicated.

And despite everything there was this part of you that wished he’d just kiss you again. You missed him and you wanted him to fix this mess he’d caused in your head.

But suddenly he let go and backed a noticeable distance away from you. You wanted him back before he even let go.

“Uh— I’m sorry— I really didn’t mean to scare you.” Jimin stammered out.

This reminded you of your second date, the first one he picked you up and flew you to that paradise in the clouds, how you were so sure he was going to kiss you, but for some reason you never understood why he backed away.

“Um—“ You quickly had to shake yourself awake. “I just didn’t expect you, or anyone behind my door.” You finally laughed, it was a little funny after all.

At this Jimin smiled.

Now that you recollected yourself you finally were able to process that Jimin was in front of you. He looked a little different than the last time you saw each other. Gone were his white, silky clothes. Instead he almost looked no different to anyone else— well, that was a lie, he was still better than everyone else.

He was wearing black pants, and this sandy colored sweater that had holes all over it, with this small cross bag he had over his shoulder, and black sandals. His hair that was practically the same color as his sweater was styled nicely and had these cute curls that just made him look adorable. You also barely registered he had a black bucket hat in hand you wondered if he was going to put on later.

You brain didn’t even really process the sweater and the fact he wasn’t wearing anything underneath until you realized you could see more of his tattoos.

You knew he had some across his arms but you haven’t really seen him without a shirt to know he had more underneath, a plethora it seemed. You couldn’t help but wonder if there were more you had yet to discover…

Hot… of course he just had to show up looking so hot. He always did but something about him looking so casual yet so perfect made you want to climb him like a tree.

Oh you need to calm yourself.

Suddenly you saw Jimin look down and then his hands came up to cover his chest. There was this weird smile on his face.

“Your mind…” He cheesed, but he was blushing and of course you forgot who you were dealing with— the man who can read your thoughts.

“I can change if it’s too distracting, I just wanted to look nice for you but—“ Jimin mumbled looking down and he was realizing how see through his sweater was. Maybe if he hadn’t sinned so much the markings across his body wouldn’t be so dark and would blend like they should into his skin, but they haven’t been that way since he got back from his last mission.

“No it’s nice, you look nice.” You were simple and some eye candy is just what you needed after the weekend.

Jimin knew this and again that devious, mischievous smile was back and you couldn’t help but laugh knowing you probably fell right into his trap.

“If you don’t mind me asking though, what are you so dressed so nicely for?” You asked doing another once over because gosh than man was beautiful.

Jimin giggled at that. “For you of course, you were going out so I thought I’d come with you.”

Like a date?

“If you want to look at it that way, then yes, it’s a date.” Another trap you fell into by bringing it up first.

Immediately you looked down at your more than plain outfit you had planned not really to be perceived in. White t-shirt and jean shorts… If you went out with Jimin like this… oh this wouldn’t do.

Considering how complicated things were between you two maybe you shouldn’t have cared as much or even you could have told him that you needed space and walked right past him, but you wanted to look good for him.

“Can— can you give me like 15 minutes to get changed then.” You looked up at him and pleaded.

Before he could answer you slammed the door in his face and ran to your closet. After seeing his sweater you had the perfect dress in mind. It was a no sleeve, tight, black dress that sat just above the knee, it was covered in holes just like his sweater, maybe even more so, but it had this slip that was underneath that went down to your thigh.

It gave you a chance to show off your own tattoos, though there weren’t many you still thought it was nice to compliment his own.

They were small, colorful flower tattoos across your arms that you got after you broke up with your ex. You had a bit of a crisis and the tattoo shop seemed to be your place for comfort. The staff there were nice and let you rant your troubles away while they worked and even gave you some insightful advice. You even went back a couple of extra times to get more piercings in your ears just to have an excuse to see them again.

They knew what you were doing and the girl who’d done your tattoos finally gave you her number and you both kept in contact and still to this day whenever they have staff outings where they all get food, sometimes they still invite you.

You checked in the mirror and after smoothing out your dress and grabbing a light sweater just in case— you quickly went over to the bathroom to do your makeup up a little more, not too much cause you didn’t have time but just enough you looked nicer than normal.

You put your hair up as well into a high ponytail to show off the small flower you had behind your ear and switched out your jewelry to be a little more fancy and match more with your outfit. Last touch was switching your tennis shoes for these cute, black sandals you felt confident you could walk in if necessary. Your bag still worked with your outfit so after grabbing your sweater again you rushed back to the door and pulled it open.

You weren’t expecting him to be standing right in front of the door again, like he knew you were coming. You were this close to screaming and falling over again, but a slight jump back was all that managed to happen.

You were shocked, so shocked you didn’t realize the weird look on Jimin’s face as he stared at you. His eyes went up your form before trailing back down. Oh now you’ve seen that look before and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I can change if it’s too distracting, just wanted to look nice for you~” You laughed, throwing his words from earlier back at him.

Maybe you wouldn’t be laughing if you knew what he was thinking. You looked good, too good and he was far too… unstable to process this correctly. If things were different his swirling thoughts of “wow she looks good, just wait till we get home later” would be acceptable, even more so considering how good you looked right now. There was no later, there could never be a later, and he was struggling so badly to contain himself.

“I was going to say earlier that you looked beautiful beforehand and you didn’t need to change if you didn’t want to, but…” That same cute smile was back.

You were about to say something to one up him but suddenly his hands were on your waist again and he was close.

Jimin wanted to say something about the fact he was going to make sure today you’d end up choosing him, or the fact you were his, or something along those lines but that didn’t feel or sound right at all. He wanted you to be his but he didn’t want to force it if that’s not what you wanted.

But seeing you like this, he knew he had to try his hardest because he wanted more than anything for this to be the norm, for you to look at him and choose him just like he had you.

Just the thought of you dressing like this to go and impress Jin-Sang made him want to set the world a blaze in a burning, hot, fiery inferno, ruin this world beyond comprehension because nothing at that point would matter. This scalding desire to please you in any way possible consumed him with a vengeful need. He couldn’t live in that reality, no one should, so he had to make sure you chose him doing whatever it takes. Hopefully with this date that would accomplish that with ease.

Hopefully.

“I just— you’re amazing and I want to give you a good day today.” He smiled down at you and you swore you nearly turned to a puddle right then and there.

You grew meek as he gently guided you over to the elevator. You both didn’t say a word to each other as you rode down, but you couldn’t help your excitement for what the day might bring.

As you both walked outside you finally had to ask the question. “Sooo what did you have planned?”

Suddenly Jimin stopped in his tracks and you nearly bumped into him.

“I’m honestly not sure, your thoughts were so jumbled it was hard to figure out what you might be interested in. I was thinking we see where today takes us, have fun while we can, come back later.” Jimin laid it out and that just made you more curious what might happen later.

“I did have one thing planned though.” Jimin said and turned around so he was facing you.

You stared at him wondering what he meant when suddenly he reached his hand out.

“I wanted to make your wish come true.” He smiled at you.

You were about to ask what wish but it hit you just before it could leave your lips. Under the tree, your wish about walking down the street holding hands, being able to introduce him as your boyfriend.

You felt your face heat up at the thought, and despite being a little dazed at the thought, your hand still made its way into his and he quickly pulled you along to begin your journey.

Oh what might this day bring?

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

When you both made it to busier streets part of you feared you would get tons of stares because you were the crazy person holding hands with an imaginary person beside you. People did look and there was this fear deep down that was the reason, but then you started to hear their whispers.

“He’s so freaking handsome.” These two teenage girls wearing school uniforms said a little too loudly as they passed you.

“Do you think he’s an idol?”

“No, I don't recognize him.”

“An actor?”

“I don’t think so.”

“He’s so pretty…” One of them sighed.

“Is that his girlfriend?” Some guy said to his friend.

“They’re holding hands, what do you think?”

“I honestly don’t know who I’m more jealous of…” Another guy said before his friends started laughing at him as he stared at you both.

“They make such a pleasing couple.” This older lady smiled at you two as she walked with her husband and you nearly started crying right there on the spot.

One of your concerns this weekend was that you really had lost your mind and your “encounters” with Jimin were all in your head. But they could see him too, they could see this beautiful person right next to you.

You gripped his hand tight because it really was a bit unreal that Jimin was here with you. You would be more than jealous if you were one of the people passing by.

With that reassurance you had no idea what today might bring you. When you got ready earlier you had no idea this outing was going to be a date, but you couldn’t be more glad that it was as Jimin held your hand tightly as you walked through the streets of Seoul.

You turned into enjoying the stares, their whispers, you felt proud.

You both didn’t do much at first, instead focusing on spending time with each other out here in the real world. The real world, it was a strange thing to say. Your dreams had oftentimes felt very real, too real at times and now it all made sense… kinda.

You did a bit of sightseeing, stopping occasionally to take pictures— another shocking discovery, he showed up in them— he was really here. While Jimin pointed out the different landmarks you were more busy observing him.

You paid more attention to the way he ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, a habit you noticed beforehand but you couldn’t help but be entrapped in the way the perfectly styled strands grew more disorganized as the day went on. You noticed the cute way he laughed at your jokes or silly faces, it was very boyish and suited him well. You noticed tiny freckles you only could see when he pulled you close by mistake, you knew it was a mistake in the way he’d immediately panic whenever your faces somehow grew only inches away. You noticed the way his eyes would smile back at you whenever he’d laugh or smile too hard, which seemed to happen quite often, he was a very smiley person just like in your dreams.

There were oftentimes moments when you’d completely forget about the weekend or the fact Jimin was an angel, literally, not figuratively though, you would forever consider him an angel after he carried you on his back up a hill when you complained your feet were hurting slightly.

Sometimes you completely tricked yourself into thinking Jimin was your boyfriend, he was human, and this was just another amazing date that you both were sharing. It was easy to forget at times and you couldn’t help but wonder occasionally if he was doing that on purpose or was this just the way he was?

You both did nothing and everything at the same time, mainly a lot of walking around but Jimin and you did stop once for a late lunch. It was a small family owned restaurant that you pulled Jimin to because he just had to try. You knew the staff there as well as you frequented here whenever you didn’t feel like cooking.

As soon as you walked in the mom who worked here immediately turned to you both with a shocked expression on her face.

You both took a seat at one of the tables and steadily the whole family started to make their way through the restaurant, not at all subtly eyeing you both.

You couldn’t help but giggle along with Jimin as you pointed it out. They had also been someone you confided in after your breakup and the mom especially had been trying to set you up with some of the customers who’d pass through in hopes of rekindling your want for a relationship but you affirmed that you were done.

This was certainly a major shock for you to come here with someone other than Mina, and a guy at that, you know you’d hear about it the next time you came alone.

The daughter who helped run this place came over to ask what you both wanted— you both decided bibimbap— but afterward she just had to ask that burning question.

“Y/n! Who—“ She eyed Jimin and turned back to you. This was even less subtle than you were expecting.

You laughed but hurriedly shooed her away because you thought about it for a second and technically right now you both weren’t labeled yet and that would just create this whole awkward situation you didn’t want to be in.

The meal was nice though, it always was.

You had ordered quickly but when they brought your food you had a sudden moment of realization wondering if angels eat or not.

“No we don’t— at least not for the same reasons, but I can still enjoy it.” He smiled at you before picking up his chopsticks. You watched quizzically because you were still curious how it worked. You were shocked… reassured… disappointed? You weren’t sure how you felt as you saw him eat like anyone else, but his face as he took his first bite made you smile.

You got a double thumbs up!

You weren’t sure exactly when you both had left, you had gotten ready and immediately went for the door to really check the time, then Jimin kept you busy, but you both were still out as the sun started to go down. It hadn’t quite yet set, but the summer sun had finally started to cool and the beginning of the pretty colors started to fill the sky.

It truly had been hours, you knew it had, but it hardly felt like it with him by your side. You honestly never wanted this day to end.

Your last stop was a bench that overlooked the Han River. Jimin had suddenly pulled you over to sit down and immediately you felt how achey you were from all the walking you were doing today. You wondered if Jimin knew or—

“I did, you seemed like you needed a break— plus the view was great. Perfect to have a talk at.” He suddenly mentioned with a slight smile. At first you had no idea what he was talking about– what talk? But as he took off his sunglasses (you had nearly growled when he put them on– he looked so good) and ran his hands through his hair you started to come back down to reality.

You had wanted to talk anyway, Jimin had done a great job of distracting you but now it was time to face the massive elephant in the room.

“I hope today was nice for you.” Jimin said as he stared out to the river.

“It was– who knew you were so great at dates.” You chuckled as you kicked your feet underneath you. Part of you didn’t want to talk about this, the other half finally wanted to get some answers, both from Jimin and yourself.

Jimin laughed along and that made you happy.

“I know you have questions and–” He took a deep breath “I thought a lot about it and… I hope you know I prioritize you and your happiness. I really want to be with you but I hate the thought that I scare you in any way. I’ll try and answer as much as I can about myself personally, but I can’t tell you about… you know.”

You got the picture and you couldn’t agree more. One of the reasons you were having such a nice time was in the fact that Jimin made it easy for you to forget about the fact he is an angel, but alone you still worried how you might feel about him.

Everything needs to be on the table.

Silence passed for a little while as you thought about what you wanted to ask him.

“How long have we known each other?” Out of all the questions running through your head for some reason that was the one that stood out.

“By technicality I’ve been here since you were watching your clock turn to 2:37am on your 20th birthday– you were crying because adulthood terrified you and how you would do anything just to turn back time.” Jimin smiled at that but you knew he saw your face.

For some reason that gave you chills. You remembered that day, the birthday blues had just slapped you in the face and you had cried while you waited to officially turn twenty. It just dawned on you that now you were truly an adult and those years of your childhood were gone. It was strange and maybe you had too much to drink (courtesy of your roommate at the time) so maybe you were a bit dramatic—

It was easy to say that now but you were away from your family, off at college in your second year and suddenly it just hit you that you were getting older and there was nothing you could do to turn back time. Then you thought about your dad…

It was also still funny, you had been crying in your bed cuddling a wine bottle as you waited for 2:37– you probably could only hear incoherent mumbling and sobs if you walked in the door. You were lucky your roommate passed out after giving you the wine or you might have given her enough content to haunt you for a lifetime.

Of all days that wouldn’t have been the first one you picked.

“I didn’t think it was funny— imagine my trauma when the first thing I see of the human I’m meant to look after is crying holding a wine bottle thinking about some seriously depressing shit at the start of their birthday.” He cheesed and you lightly pushed him.

“Has it really been that long though since you’ve known me?” You asked seriously. “I mean that’s been 5 years ago at this point.”

Jimin just nodded.

The next question then. “When did you know?” A very vague question but one instance you were glad he was in your head so you didn’t need to elaborate.

“I don’t know… It just kinda hit me I guess.”

Part of you thought that that was all you were going to get but this time he had more to say.

“Maybe— I think it could have been before we even met.” He suddenly said and you finally had to turn to him wondering what he met.

“I remember seeing your picture for the first time and—“ He smiled. “You were really pretty, my whole team thought you were, but I never could have predicted the feelings you would give me when I got here.”

Jimin liked to think that if things were different, if you all would meet they’d really like you. He knew they would.

You were busy trying to process that information because what did he just say?!

“I don’t think there was ever a date it started or a moment. As I watched over you I started to realize how much I enjoyed being around you— even though you couldn’t see me just watching you be a person— you made me feel all fluttery inside— I never felt that before. Your laugh, your smile, such meaningless actions but they always made me feel like I could fly around the universe fifteen times.” And he wasn’t exaggerating, your little actions have him enough energy to do the most outrageous tasks.

Your face was flushed but Jimin continued.

“You don’t understand how long I wanted you to look at me. I was always by your side but your eyes would stare right through me and I just had to watch—“ Jimin felt himself get all tense at the memory.

“I don’t know when it started and I tried to deny it for a while because I was scared— like I told you before I’m not made for this. My human interaction is supposed to be limited until after my human dies— I’m really not supposed to be here. I’ve broken a lot of rules to be with you like this and even now… I’m still scared because the emotions I feel are not natural but I want to keep seeing you— being here with you. I got a taste and now I never want to leave.” Jimin tried his best to control his emotions knowing how strange things can get if he loses it, but he just wanted to cry into your arms if he could.

“I also don’t want to be scared of me— I never ever— you’re my priority— keeping you safe is my job but you mean more to me than you probably could comprehend.” He shakily laughed but for that to have been a thought that ran through your head…

“I’m sorry…” You couldn’t even look at him.

“No it was my fault though— I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You’re human, you're not used to things like this so I understand how it might have been too much.” Jimin apologized.

“Being with me is a huge ask… we couldn’t exactly live a normal life and I’ll struggle sometimes, but I hope to also create days like this more often than not. I want to make you as happy as you make me.” When presented like this Jimin for a second doubted if this was the right thing to do.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you in any way and on this path that outcome seemed inevitable. But he wanted you— you were his, he’d figure this out.

“Can you answer this for me then?” You suddenly said.

Jimin sat up straight ready to answer anything you wanted to know, anything to convince you to be with him.

“Why’d you start visiting me in my dreams?” It was a question that made his blood run cold because he knew he would have to tell you about that.

“The simple initial answer was I believed it to be a way to meet you without breaking too many rules— but I know what you’re going to ask if I finish there.” Jimin knew exactly what you were thinking without being in your head.

Why? He never really answered it, at least in the way he knew you wanted.

“To answer that I’m going to need to confess something.”

You looked at him wide eyed wondering what he was about to say.

“Under the tree, that day, that wasn’t the first time we met.” For a second it didn’t even register what he said. “And then on Saturday that wasn’t the first time I met you here on this plane.” Then it just got worse.

What was he talking about?

“The reason all of this started. I probably never would have disobeyed my orders if you hadn’t looked back at me first.” Jimin looked over at you as the words started to settle into your brain.

“Wait… so you’re telling me we met before like this? Here?!” It sounded outrageous as you said it out loud. You surely would have remembered meeting him before, how could you forget meeting an angel?

“You don’t remember. I made you not remember.” Jimin turned back toward the view.

“Why— why would you do that?” You questioned, baffled that he would do that to you.

“Was it just like what happened with some of our dates?” You hastily followed up with.

It only happened during the first few ones. Jimin was so hellbent in making you like him anytime things would go left he would start things over— he didn’t see the harm in it at first especially because you wouldn’t remember at the end of the day. It took a little time for him to understand what he was essentially doing— forcing you to like him almost.

It went from the simple, preventing you from remembering the traumatizing sight of his punishment to maybe there was a joke you didn’t laugh at and he didn’t want you to think he wasn’t funny so he’d start over. It was an abuse of power, he knew that now.

“Slightly, but the reasoning was different. I was trying to correct a mistake, but I don’t want to lie to you if we’re going to do this.” Jimin turned back to you.

Your eyes were watery as you stared at him, you didn’t know why but the thought of this whole weekend not being your first encounter— you wanted to know, no, needed to know what happened.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your cheek making you turn toward Jimin.

You stared into his warm eyes as he peered into your own, his eyes were sad yet sympathetic. You felt his thumb gently rub across your cheeks and it was only then did you realize you were crying and he was wiping away your tears.

“You don’t remember me?” Jimin asked so softly.

“You had just come out of the shower to watch Vincenzo and then you heard a bang. It was me. We spent a whole week together just you and me while I recovered— I was really sick and you helped me through it. I liked you beforehand but when you looked at me when I opened my eyes I just knew I never wanted you to look away. It was exhilarating, a rush, a warmth that I had never known. I didn’t ever want to leave but I had to— we were about to play monopoly, remember? I got told off for the situation because I didn’t report it in the way that I should, I left out some important details. I tried to have things go back to normal but I couldn’t after what happened— I got a taste of what we could have and that was enough. It was why I started seeing you in your dreams, hoping that would be enough but… I guess I’m too greedy.” Jimin never once broke eye contact as he looked into your eyes, the tears never stopped because you were starting to remember.

You remembered the crash, you remembered the shower, you remembered Jimin suddenly appearing in your living room, you remembered being terrified even then but you hid it away because of how sick he was, you remember that week you spent together, you remembered that game of monopoly you were about to play but suddenly you were sick and you thought you were delusional for starting a game by yourself. It came back to you all in a rush as he spoke.

How could you forget this?

“What about now? Do you remember me now?” Jimin asked softly once again, his hand on your cheek so gentle as always.

“Jimin…” You nearly sobbed.

Your eyes scanned over the angel in front of you and it was almost hard to recognize him. This couldn’t be the same angel who was stammering just to ask for a kiss on your cheek, it wasn’t just that either, he just seemed different— thinking about it now he was different than how you met under the tree.

So shy, timid almost— and now…

“You think?” Jimin suddenly questioned, in your head like always. He looked down before back at you.

“Jimin it’s just— wow— it’s really you.” You couldn’t get out your thoughts, you were too focused on trying not to just completely break down here in public.

You honestly couldn’t figure out how to react. Were you angry at him for taking your memories, no, no you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel that knowing he was just operating under orders. Were you upset he kept it from you this long? No, that wasn’t it. Were you happy to see him, to remember the time you shared? Some of the pieces that you couldn’t make sense of started to become clearer.

You were happy to see him, you were happy he decided to keep visiting you, and you were even happier seeing him in front of you like this now.

“You really think I’m differe—“ Before Jimin could ask again, suddenly you pulled him into your arms because you just had to hug him at this point.

You knew you surprised him but you heard his cute little giggle before he wrapped his arms around you. You wrapped your arms tighter because you just didn’t want to let him go, you never did, not again not ever.

You knew Jimin must have heard that in the way his grip grew tighter as well.

You buried yourself further into his warmth, enjoying the way he still smelled like the beautiful flowers in the meadow you both used to meet at. You felt safe, protected, and in some weird way loved.

Jimin went through so much just for the chance to see you again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

“You were worth it and I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” He didn’t have one but you got the point. Jimin knew what you were about to think and he didn’t want you to go there. You were worth it and you would always be.

Jimin held onto you tightly but he could feel you shaking slightly.

“Don’t cry…” He pulled you even closer and lifted one of his hands to gently stroke your hair to help calm you down.

“I’m not crying— the— the sun’s just in my eyes…” You sniffled out, but you knew you couldn’t lie to him.

“It’s ok, cry. It’s good to cry.” Jimin smiled.

And this just made you want to cry harder. You tried to pull yourself together but it took some time because there were just too many emotions swirling around in your head. And then with Jimin softly rubbing your back— oh you were at a breaking point.

The only thing that really helped you start to dry your eyes was the promise you made to yourself to cry about it properly when you got back home.

At home felt right.

When Jimin noticed your sniffling growing quieter he finally pulled back to look at you. Your watery eyes stared up at him and he cursed quietly to himself.

“I want to kiss you.” He smiled out with pink cheeks as he continued to help dry your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“When I look like a mess?” You chuckled as you started to wipe your eyes. Your eyes were now red and even though you didn’t put much makeup on, you could bet it was ruined by now. You certainly looked better before you sat down then now.

Jimin nodded. “I’ve wanted to for days, you have no idea.” His eyes flickered down and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Part of you thought he was just making a joke to get you to smile again, but realizing he was being serious…

Oh.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked again.

You felt your face flush. “We’re in public…”

“And?”

“And? There’s people right behind us—“ You briefly looked over to the sidewalk.

“Annnddd?” He pouted.

Oh he was too cute.

“How about this— one on the cheek right now and then when we make it back home we can do a little more.” Jimin wanted to think you were just referring to a proper kiss, but he was in your mind to know you kept it open ended for a reason.

This is just going to—

Stop. Not now. Just stop.

Jimin smiled before leaning down and fulfilling your request— it was just a quick peck on the cheek but it made you both just want more. His soft lips against your cheek made you tempted to pull him over so he could really kiss you.

This was nice, really really nice.

Jimin and you both got up and started making your way back to your apartment. Instead of walking the whole way back, you both decided on the easier method of taking the subway.

You cuddled up next to him and as you passed the stops and people boarded and left you could hear more whispers and they all made you smile.

Hand in hand you walked back to your place which luckily wasn’t too far from the stop, just a few blocks and you were finally back where this whole journey started.

“Soooo—“ Before you could even finish, suddenly your back was against the door as Jimin pulled you close and kissed you.

You were shocked for only a second but as his hands came up to gently cup your cheeks you practically melted in his hands. His lips always gave you that electric feeling, it was more than butterflies, it was like a tornado of kittens was all snuggling you in the softest, cutest, fluffiest hug.

It felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be, you knew it, this was right.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and started running your hands through his hair, so soft and just perfect like he is.

The kiss picked up in intensity, you were trying to be conscious of the fact you still were in public technically but you wanted him and it just got worse the longer you kept going.

You were almost making out at the way he let your tongue tease and explore before Jimin was back in control and you were just at his mercy. You felt him press you harder into the door as his hand went down and gently stroked at your sides, lightly playing with the netted fabric of your dress.

You wanted him to take you right here against the door, rip off your dress, and have his way with you— the bed felt too far, you were so hot you could feel the wetness growing in your panties and you wanted more than anything for him to come and fix the mess he made.

You quickly pulled away and trailed kisses from his cheek up to his ear.

“Jimin…” You nearly moaned when you felt his grip on your waist tighten.

Suddenly you felt him dive for your neck, lightly sucking right where you wanted him to.

“You’re— you’re mine, right?” He hurriedly asked.

You pulled him up so you could look him in the eyes. “I always was.” You made sure to say it clearly so he understood. You were and always will be.

You noticed his eyebrows furrow before he whimpered and buried himself in your shoulder, holding you tight.

“You’re making it impossible for me to leave.” He whined. He didn’t want to leave but he had to at this point.

It took a second for that to register, too busy wondering how you both were going to somehow make it to the bedroom.

“Leave?” You finally questioned.

“Yeah— uh, yeah— I have work stuff I need to do.” You could feel it. He was shaking.

He wanted to fuck you so bad and he was doing everything in his power to control himself.

“Oh…” You seemed disappointed. You were, it felt like your night together had just begun. You wanted more time.

“I’m sorry…” He sighed, his voice barely over a whisper.

“It’s alright— we did spend most of the day together. I’m not surprised you have things. I imagine being an angel is a lot of work.” You tried to smile but you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“When will you come back?” You asked as you wrapped your arms around him to pull him into a hug.

“I’ll try and be back tomorrow. It takes a lot of energy to come down here and back though. I can’t promise I’ll be here everyday but I’ll come as often as I can.” You pulled him out of your shoulder to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

Jimin had to stop himself from taking it all back and getting you inside as soon as possible. He had to control himself.

“I have work tomorrow but we can hang out when I get back.” You mentioned and he nodded in your grasp.

And with that he finally pulled away, all the way this time. You were about to turn around to punch in the code for your door, but Jimin reached past you and easily opened the door.

At first you were concerned your lock was broken but when you turned to Jimin you noticed his smile.

Ahhh, what having an angel in your life could do~

“Goodnight!” You smiled at him and he waved as you closed the door behind you.

Jimin looked at and sighed now that he was alone. He really wanted to come with you but that was great in the fact he was able to have some control over himself and not completely fall into temptation (despite how much he wanted to).

It was a step in the right direction in his path to salvation, a life with you where his promise is kept intact. No sin, he will get past this.

But he really did miss you.

He wasn’t lying when he said work stuff but it wasn’t like it was urgent. Jimin had been monitoring still and luckily the sins seemed to be quiet today, not much activity besides this morning before he met you.

It was a good day, and finally, he truly felt like you were his.

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Jimin surprised you and met you in the morning before work. It wasn’t planned but after all the walking yesterday it was enough to knock you out to the point you didn’t hear your alarm go off five times in a row.

Jimin was there and he decided to help you up. Him being the angel that he is, Jimin stopped your alarm and gently shook you awake. He was so gentle and it was like the sun itself had shrunk itself to be human sized and this warm glow of sunshine woke you up.

It was just perfect.

He also helped you get ready, fixing your lunch for you and getting your work bag together while you showered and got dressed. In the end, by the time you were heading out the door, it was about the time you normally would leave thanks to Jimin’s help.

He even decided to ride with you in your car on the way to work because you complained about needing to leave him. In the end you got an extra twenty minutes together while you sat in your car singing along to the songs on your playlist.

It was a level of domesticity you hadn’t known since you left your ex and even then he didn’t compare in any way to Jimin. At the time you thought your break up was the worst thing in the world but maybe that hurt then was what you needed to endure in order to be by Jimin’s side.

When you arrived you hurried out but not after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek with the promise of seeing each other later.

You just expected to head in but coincidently, or maybe not so, you saw Mina waiting outside the building.

“Hey?” You called out to her, wondering why she was just standing here.

She turned to you and let out a sigh of relief before running over and hugging you. “Ok you’re alright, I can breathe now.”

It took you a minute to figure out what she was talking about until you remembered what you texted her yesterday.

“I told you I was ok~” You chuckled but hugged her back tightly.

“You never know, I may watch too much true crime but I just had to make sure.” She mumbled into your shirt. Ahhh, you love this woman so much. What would you do without her?

“So~ What happened this weekend—“ She hurried out as she hastily pulled away. You were about to tell her it was a little hard to explain when you heard quick footsteps approaching.

“Oh good, you’re ok….” You heard a sigh and finally turned to find him.

It was Jin-Sang.

He looked like he just ran a marathon.

“What do you mean?” You questioned.

“Your texts— just wanted to make sure you were ok.” He smiled bashfully.

“You both thought something was up?” You signaled between Jin-Sang and Mina.

“You never know these days— I’ve seen way too much true crime to just—“ Woah. It’s almost like you’ve had this talk before.

“But glad to see you’re ok.” Jin-Sang felt reassured. He’d honestly been very worried about you.

“Y/n was actually just about to explain what happened.” Mina said, looking back at you.

Jin-Sang noticed you hesitated. “That is, only if you’re comfortable.” He added, not wanting to pressure you into a confession.

“It was a pretty crazy weekend but you, especially Jin-Sang, deserve to know.” You looked over at him. He was still thinking there was a next time after all…

They both looked at you intrigued at what you were about to say.

“Part of the reason I hesitated when you asked me out last week, Jin-Sang, was that I wasn’t exactly single.” You paused for a second when you noticed his face change.

“But it was a relationship I thought wouldn’t go anywhere— we had our fun but we couldn’t be together in the way that I wanted. It wasn’t going anywhere and we knew that, it’s why I didn’t say no either. We even talked about it when I got home and we broke up and everything believing that to be the end of our journey and this was our sign to move on.” You were watching Jin-Sang intently even though you were talking to both him and Mina.

“That day I had been getting ready for our date, I had been on the phone with Mina and had my outfit picked and everything— I was honestly really excited but just a few hours before we were supposed to meet, I got a knock at the door—”

“It was him wasn’t it…” Jin-Sang finished with a sad smile.

You nodded.

You felt bad, you truly did.

“He said the date made him realize how much he wanted our relationship to work so he’s visiting me now, but he plans on moving closer so we can be together. It was the only issue with our relationship and we spent the weekend and Monday just talking to see if this was the best path to go on and…” You smiled at the thought. Some of it was certainly lies but it was close enough to the truth you felt satisfied.

You saw Mina’s mouth drop at your story and Jin-Sang just had this sad yet sweet expression on his face.

“Ahhh I should have known.” He sighed but never once stopped smiling. “You’re so amazing I’m not surprised someone already beat me to it…”

Oh.

He was really trying to pull at your heartstrings. You felt bad, really really really bad.

You were about to say something when suddenly you thought you heard someone call out your name. You turned wondering where that came from.

“Y/n!” You heard it again a little more clearly this time and now you could see where it was coming from. There he was, the angel that had been your entire weekend.

It was Jimin and he was jogging over to where you all were standing, holding something in his hand.

He’d somehow changed from the time you left him in the car.

He’d switched to an entire black ensemble, it was simple yet so effective. A black short sleeve shirt tucked into black pants with a fancy belt wrapped around his waist. He’d thrown on a black beanie and had these sexy black sunglasses on and the closer he got you could see the pretty silver jewelry he added— a necklace, bracelets of both arms, rings, and his fancy cross earrings decorating his ears.

The tattoos on his arms were on full display. And this close with his arms exposed you could make out what they were slightly. You were only able to make out one to clear enough detail— it read ‘WRATH’ in dark, inky black letters...?

Interesting.

It was like you were watching him run in slow motion over to you, maybe you lost it, but it was like something out of a drama at how gorgeous he looked.

You were tempted to start barking right here because aro? Alpha?

You were surprised you didn’t start drooling and you were too entranced to realize he was holding your water bottle.

As he came closer you started to notice the stares of your coworkers and whisper more good things because look at him. How could they not?

“Jimin?” You finally questioned.

He smiled at you when he stopped by your side. “Hey beautiful.” He pulled you close and gently kissed your forehead.

Oh.

“You forgot your water in the car and came to bring it to you.” You finally noticed it in his hands and you were about to look in your bag confused, because you were so sure you put it in there, but maybe not if he had it.

You took it from his hands and put it in your bag.

“Must have missed this somehow… Thank you~” You smiled at him.

“Ahem…” It was Mina and that was when you realized they were still standing behind you.

You turned back around and their faces, especially Mina’s, were oddly amusing. You felt proud.

“Guys this is Jimin, my…?” In a second you realized you never discussed the specifics of the labels or your relationship.

Jimin seemed to pick up on this.

“I’m her boyfriend, nice to meet you both.” Jimin flashed you one of those enchanting smiles before turning back to Mina and Jin-Sang.

Oh— yep, yep oh boy.

You tried to pull yourself together.

“Uh— this is Mina.” You motioned toward your friend.

Jimin smiled before bowing. “Y/n talked about you a lot, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She shyly laughed before bowing back.

You turned to Jin-Sang and you realized this was a bit awkward considering the talk you just were having. “And this is Jin-Sang.”

There was a second where they made eye contact. Jimin was slightly shorter than Jin-Sang was, only a few centimeters at most, but it was enough where he had to slightly look up at him.

You had no idea what you were watching and for a second you were worried someone, someone would say something that would cause this whole big thing. You were reassured when Jimin gave him a smile and bowed too, it was slightly less than what he did with Mina, not by much, but you noticed.

“Nice to meet you.”

Jin-Sang bowed back. “Likewise.”

Crisis averted it seems.

Jimin looked back at you before taking off his beanie, revealing his sandy blonde hair once again and started running his hand through it. You could have moaned, oh what was this man doing to you?

At the workplace at that!

Just wait till you get home later…

“Alright, I’ll see you at home.” He smiled at you before putting his beanie back on.

“See you then~” You cheesed before he started walking away. For a second you wondered how he planned on getting back, but you remembered this was an angel you were dealing with.

You turned back to the two who were standing behind you.

“I’m sorry guys—“

“No need to apologize. You seem happy and that’s all I care about. Wish the best for you two.” He tried to smile but you could see the sadness in his eyes.

Jin-Sang said a speedy goodbye before heading into the building.

You still felt bad, maybe even worse though but you were happy he understood. You feared telling him all morning, but he really seemed sweet.

With Jin-Sang gone, that left you and Mina.

“Y/n you’re gonna have to tell me everything and I mean everything.” She said quietly as she guided you both inside.

“Like what?”

“Everything, like does he drive a motorcycle?”

“Huh?”

“He looked like he would— my gosh, he is so hot, how could you never tell me about him?! And was it me or was he literally glowing?!— Where did you find him? On the set of some drama or something? I need the details!”

The lunch was amazing by the way, as expected of your angel.

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