#terrible french n horrendous accent
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Pawing desperately at his pockets, Teddy let out a rather barbaric, “Fuck!” when he realized he’d lost his lighter somewhere along the way from building to quad. Amidst the outburst, a few students had turned to face Teddy, but he only noticed the one he recognized, “Bas! Bonjour!” he butchered, “Please, monsieur, a lighter for zee needy?” @bastien-levasseur
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17. [2:01 am]
“Bam, thank you for finally picking up the phone.” Jaebeom shouted into the phone over the horrendous music blasting from the club’s speakers. “Listen, you need to come over, we may have a slight problem on our hands…”
Less than fifteen minutes and two red lights later, Bambam found you slumped against the countertop of the bar, eyes closed and head resting against your arm. With a flick of your wrist, you waved the empty glass towards Jaebeom, who was observing you from a distance with a cautious gaze.
“One more, Beomie,” You slurred slightly, attempting to push yourself into an upright position. You failed. “Please, last one.”
“That’s enough for tonight, Y/N.” Bambam answered on behalf of Jaebeom, sending an apologetic look towards the elder before taking the shot glass out of your hand.
You cracked open your eyes and rubbed them with both hands, an action Bambam thought was cute if not for your current intoxicated state. “Bam, what are you-? You’re here?”
Instead of answering, the blonde boy pulled out a few bills from his wallet and handed them to a reluctant Jaebeom. The bartender insisted that drinks were on him the next time they had a boys’ night out and bid them good luck and good night, after being called away by another customer. Bambam hauled you up on your feet by wrapping an arm around your shoulder and supporting you by the waist – a technique he practiced and perfected over the past three years of being your next-door-neighbour-slash-best-friend.
Your friendship was sealed the moment you answered the door and came face to face with a panicked and pale Bambam, asking to borrow a roll of toilet paper for his toilet emergencies. The sudden, overpowering scent of Tiger Balm, a traditional ointment used to relieve aches and pains, invaded your nose and you were immediately brought back to your childhood days. You obliged, like any good neighbour would, and had even left him a Thermos of rice porridge and a box of Panadol by his doorstep that evening. He was around your age, a university student, and spoke Korean with a foreign accent, so you figured he probably moved away from his family for his education. The least you could do was help the boy feel welcome in a country that wasn’t his own. Bambam would later go on to tell you over greasy takeaways and an old Mission Impossible movie that you were his guardian angel for looking out for him when he got food poisoning after moving in.
It worked both ways, though. While you were there to lend him eggs and milk during finals season when he was too busy for grocery shopping, or bring him a big bowl of Pad Thai that you tried to replicate from an online recipe, Bambam was always ready to fix any broken electronic appliances, or on rare occasions, pick you up from clubs when you had too much to drink.
It started when you had your first fight with your boyfriend. After that, he picked you up once every two months. Then, it was once a month. Eventually, he found himself speeding through the streets of Seoul past midnight nearly every week. It came as a surprise to both of you that he hadn’t been caught speeding yet.
“Watch your step.” Bambam said as he guided you off the pavement and towards the passenger seat. He sat you down and buckled your seatbelt for you. “Here, sit tight.”
You flashed him a silly smile in response, all crinkly eyes and upturned lips. For a moment, Bambam’s heart skipped a beat. Even under the dim, yellow glow of the streetlights, he could clearly make out your angelic features and the prominent curve of your cupid’s bow. It made him want to touch your lips with his.
He quickly pulled back and shut your door. Bambam shook his head and shoved his clenched fists deep into his pockets as he walked around to the driver’s side. He shouldn’t, no, couldn’t think about you in that way. You were still attached to that douchebag of a boyfriend.
“Bammie,” You called out to him as he drove out of the carpark and towards the direction of your apartment. “Takeaway.”
“I know, we’ll go for drive through.” Bambam was all too familiar with your drunk midnight cravings, especially after a nasty fight with the boyfriend. Small fights called for French fries, medium fights equalled French fries and a strawberry sundae. “Just rest your eyes and drink some water, you got to stay hydrated.” He removed the cap from the mineral water bottle at a red light and handed it to you, concerned eyes watching on as you took small sips.
By the time Bambam got to the drive through, you had knocked yourself out from all the singing you did and had your head lolled to the side with your mouth slightly agape. He took the liberty of ordering for you. Judging from the number of shot glasses he recalled seeing at the bar and Jaebeom’s words, he figured the fight was definitely more than just a small fight.
“Hi, can I please get the large fries and a strawberry sundae?”
“Sure, is there anything else, sir?”
“Wait,” You tugged Bambam’s sleeve to get his attention, suddenly awoken by the conversation. “More food, I’m hungry. Get the nuggets or the burger or something.”
Bambam eyed you carefully. You never ordered more than a light snack on the way home from a night out, so your request struck him as odd. “I can get the twenty nuggets deal?”
“Yeah, sure.” Your hand went to rest against your forehead, continuing with your shuteye.
“Twenty nuggets, please.”
“No problem, please drive forwards and pay at the next window.”
After paying for the food, Bambam parked the car nearby and turned towards you. “Y/N,” He called gently. “You know I care about you right?”
You hummed in reply, slowly opening your eyes as the smell of greasy, unhealthy fast food filled your senses.
“Can you please tell me what happened?” He pleaded, voice laced with utmost concern. Bambam passed you the strawberry sundae and a few fries, knowing that you liked to dip them into the ice cream.
Huffing, you aggressively peeled open the lid and took a huge scoop of ice cream, shoving it into your mouth. Just thinking about tonight’s fight made your blood boil in anger. “He said,” You paused to swallow. “He said he wanted to take a break.”
The nugget in Bambam’s fingers paused midway to his mouth. He was shocked to hear this. “What did you tell him?”
“This was after I caught him with his hands on his ‘lab partner’s’ thigh in the library. I sent him a message, which he ignored, and continued flirting with her. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, Bam! And yet he has the nerve to tell me that he feels suffocated by our relationship and that he wants to take a break?!” You took a deep breath to calm yourself down, already feeling hot tears prickling at the edges of your eyes.
Bambam couldn’t believe his ears. Sure, your boyfriend was a bit of a delinquent – he drank too much, partied too hard, did a bit of weed, but he never knew he was such a-
“Why do I even try so hard, Bam? I really tried to be a good girlfriend, I tried to be understanding and give him space, but he just… Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?” You munched on a nugget, your mind spiralling into a cycle of self-doubt.
“No.” Bambam replied firmly, releasing his tight grip on the steering wheel to hold your shoulders reassuringly. “Listen to me, Y/N. This guy, he’s not worth it. He’s not worth your efforts to change yourself, not worth you getting drunk every time you fight and definitely not worth your tears. Over the past six months of your relationship, this piece of trash, he’s just been screwing you over. God, I hate it, Y/N. I hate watching you like this.”
“Is it… Wait, am I annoying you? Bam… I-I’m so sorry. It’s just so selfish and terrible of me to call you-”
“What? No, no. I mean I hate watching you get hurt, time and time again. I don’t mind picking you up and buying you fries but I just… It hurts me to see you hurting like this.” He admitted, his finger catching a fallen tear on your rosy cheeks. His heart breaks a little at the sight of your watery eyes.
“Bam,” You sniffled. Crying oddly made you feel way more sober. “Thank you, Bam. I’m so grateful for you. And I’m sorry for troubling you all the time with my problems, I-”
Bambam hushed you by placing a nugget on your lips, urging you to eat instead of talking and putting yourself down. “Stop all this negative self-talk and eat your nuggets, lady. I don’t want to hear another word come out of your mouth, it should be used for chewing and drinking only.”
You obliged happily. The only sounds in the car were the low hum of the engine, the lo-fi tunes from Bambam’s late-night drives playlist and a surprised shriek when the boy smeared a barbecue sauce-covered fry on your cheek. You got him back by pretending to feed him a scoop of strawberry sundae and missing his mouth entirely, staining his nose with white and red.
Bambam made a promise to himself later that night as he carried you into your apartment and tucked you in. He promised that he wouldn’t stand on the sidelines any longer. He won’t let you get hurt anymore. Once you officially broke it off with your boyfriend, he would stay by your side and nurse you through the breakup. Then, when the time is right and the wounds have healed, he will ask you to do the honour of being his girlfriend.
#got7#bambam#bambam fluff#got7 fluff#bambam fanfic#got7 fanfic#bambam scenarios#got7 scenarios#bambam imagines#got7 imagines#bambam drabble#got7 drabbles#bambam soft#got7 soft#got7 bambam#inspired by#got7 angel
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