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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

off the grid | eight

summary: it was as simple as swapping places with a stranger from across the world to get away from everything back home. that is - until you meet Jimin. things become more complicated as he unfolds a new chapter in your life that you were initially trying to avoid.

pairing: reader x pjm

genre: post-college au, christmas/holiday au | angst, fluff, smut (to come)

words: 2.1k

chapter warnings: cussing, more insecurities and overthinking, crying, mom and dad to the rescue, your friends back home miss you, reminiscing

> series masterlist <

You woke up at the usual 8AM time, looking out at the city view from the bed, checking your phone to see if anything new has popped up. Christmas had finally arrived in Seoul, the sun beaming bright and early. You and Jimin hadn't talked since that night you got into an argument and to be honest, it had been taking a toll on you the past few days. You cried, and you cried. Still unsure of what to do and how to approach this, but you knew sooner or later, you were just going to have to pick yourself up and move on. Thinking about it still left this uneasy, empty feeling deep down.

You were going back home.

The month flew by in a breeze, but overall, you were grateful for your experience here. You were grateful for the new friends you met and the adventures they had taken you. You were grateful having crossed paths with Jimin, being the absolute angel he was. The amount of love and care he had showered you during your time together was more than anything you have ever experienced before. It was unreal. Golden. Pure. Unlike any other.

"Hi baby!" Your mom yells through Facetime, causing you to chuckle as you held the sheets tighter against your body.

"Hey ma, where's papa?" She flashed the camera over at your dad, who was sipping on wine next to her. They sat in their hotel balcony, overlooking the view, waiting for Christmas to hit London since it was only 11pm there.

"Hey sweetheart, how's Seoul?" Your dad asks from his seat, but your mom is hogging the camera, so you can't even see his face.

"It's good."

"Yeah? It's already Christmas there, right? Merry Christmas, sweetie!"

"Merry early Christmas to you and dad." You smile softly.

"We'll definitely do our own thing when we get back."

"Okay, I'm looking forward to it. How has London been?"

"Absolutely amazing. We wish you were here, but Seoul sounds awesome too!"

"Yeah, it is. I've been having a lot of fun since I've been here."

"I see that, I loved all the pictures you've been sending me. Are you hanging out with your new friends today?"

"Um, probably not." Your smile fades as your eyes drop down from the camera to your fingers.

"Oh." Your mom picks up on the mood change quickly. "What's wrong, sweetie? What's on your mind?" You sigh. Those words are triggering; so triggering that as soon as you register that your mom has asked you what was wrong, you break down in tears again. "Oh no, honey. What is it?"

"Mom, I think I messed up. Or, maybe it's my fault for getting so attached. I-I knew what my plan was coming here and I just messed it up for myself."

"What are you talking about?" You hear your dad faintly ask your mom to include his face in the camera too, being that he's worried about you and your well-being as well.

"I shouldn't have gotten so attached to Jimin." Your mom and dad were well aware of who Jimin was, being that you gushed about him and how well he had taken care of you during majority of your stay here. They were happy you had met new people and that you bonded well with them because they knew what you were going through back home. However, they weren't ready for this conversation to happen.

"Oh, honey." She slightly clicks her mouth, the expression on her face filled with worry and concern.

"How stupid am I? I knew I wasn't going to be here for long, but I still pressed on it. I continued on and acted on my feelings for him. And now he probably doesn't want anything to do with me cause I told him this was never going to work. What if he thinks I misled him?"

"Look, you aren't stupid. You hear me? You are not stupid. You can't help what you feel for someone, no matter what you do. It's worse to push that aside and try to suppress it instead of tackling it head on. You'll be miserable doing so."

"But mom, this distance. Don't you think it'll be too difficult?"

"Nothing is ever too difficult, honey." Your dad chimes in. "Every relationship will always have its ups and downs. It will always be a ride no matter what. You just have to figure out if this is worth it for you, because if it is, then none of that matters. You will get through it together."

"Did I mess it up? Was I wrong for telling him that this will never work?" Your mom sighed.

"Your dad and I can't really tell you what to do or what to say in these situations, sweetie. You're the only one who truly understands what you're feeling, no one else. Do you feel like you misled him?"

"I fell in love with him, mom." You cried into the phone, your voice becoming weak.

"Oh, baby." Your mom replies. "I wish I could give you a big hug right now. I think you need to take time and think about this before you come home."

"Just remember that there isn't anything you can't overcome, honey. If he makes you happy, then you should welcome it. Let yourself experience that happiness." Your dad chimes in.

"Whatever you do, we will always be here for you. Same with Namjoon and Yoongi. But, please just choose yourself for once. Be selfish. Do whatever that means to you. It's completely okay to do so." Your mom says, making you nod. Be selfish. The words stuck to you like glue. Do whatever that means to you.

You continue to talk to your parents for a bit as they spill the details about their whereabouts since they haven't sent you as many pictures as you have with them. You were glad they were taking time off and really enjoying themselves, they truly deserved it with all the hard, endless work they have been putting in back home. After the call, you finally head downstairs to get washed up and get yourself ready for today, or whatever the day had in store for you. There wasn't anything open, but you felt like a walk around the neighborhood could do you some good. You just needed some cool, fresh air.

This wasn't how you expected to spend your Christmas, but you were partially to blame. The thoughts flooded your head, the what if's. All of a sudden you were full of regret, feeling like you made the wrong move by pushing Jimin away just like you did. You were (and still are) scared. You were so fucking scarred from your experience with Romeo that you couldn't even bring yourself to appreciate a good man when he came along, and that's what you hated the most about this long-time fight you've had with your past.

If you were to fix this, you weren't sure how. You didn't know if Jimin was done. You remember seeing the hurt plastered on his facial expression and it kills you every time. As much as you were afraid to take this leap, you fell in love with someone who had the purest soul. You couldn't forget how easy he made it seem to care for you. How easy it was for him to show you how he felt. For once, someone showed you that you were perfect how you were, flaws and all.

What did you truly want?

"It's Christmas there, right? Merry Christmas, Y/N!" Yoongi yells loudly over the Facetime call.

"Merry early Christmas to you guys, too."

"You excited to come home?" Namjoon flashes his face into the frame.

"I guess so."

"How do you feel?"

"Better than when I got here, that's for sure."

"That's all that matters, right?" Yoongi asks, still concerned about you and your whole situation with Jimin. To be honest, your friends really wanted you to be happy, but they too weren't going to tell you how to live your life. They just wanted to make sure you were set with your decisions instead of drowning in regret.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"What are you going to do today?"

"I'm just going to start packing up my things and cleaning around Yana's spot. Just gotta make sure it's ready for her."

"Where are you right now?" Namjoon squints his eyes as he's looking at your background while you walk.

"Just talking a walk around the neighborhood."

"It looks beautiful there."

"It is. Truly."

"Well, make sure you rest and relax today. You're going to be on a long flight back home."

"Ah, the dreaded 13-14 hour flight."

"We'll be back to bugging you in no time." Yoongi flashes his gummy smile with a thumbs up.

"How's Yana been?"

"She's been good, she's pretty excited to go back home to see her family and friends though." Namjoon and Yana had also taken their relationship to new heights, something you wish you were bold enough to do with Jimin. Joon tried to spare details so he wouldn't make you feel bad about everything going on, but as long as he was happy, you were happy too.

"That's good. I'm glad she really enjoyed her time there."

"She sure did." Namjoon wiggled his eyebrows

"You're sick, bro. The fuck." Yoongi furrowed his forehead and slightly shoved him. As you started to make your way back to the loft, you slowed your pace when you realized there was something sitting on the doorstep. You rose your eyebrow, unable to make out what the item was from where you were standing.

"Hey, look, I'll talk to you both later, okay?"

"Is everything okay?" Joon asks. You send him a reassuring, toothless smile and nod.

"Yeah, I'm just about to get into the loft."

"Alrighty, Merry Christmas again, dude. Can't wait for you to get back." Yoongi replies, with Joon yelling another 'Merry Christmas' greeting before they end the call. Getting closer, you see a tupperware full of food, with a sweater and a small box on top of the sweater. Your heart drops because as silly as it sounds, you knew that tupperware. There was a small note taped to the lid of the tupperware that read 'Mom told me to feed you well.' You smiled a bit to yourself before unlocking the door. You brought the items inside, placing them carefully onto the kitchen island before observing the sweater and box closely. You also knew that hoodie all too well - it was the same black, Stussy hoodie you always pulled from his closet to wear whenever you were hanging out at their apartment. You always liked how his smell lingered on the hoodie, and how he looked so damn good throwing it on. Opening the small box, you find a tiny, black album, full of polaroids. You instantly find yourself in tears, your hands slightly shaking as you flipped through the polaroids Jimin had taken of you during your stay here. Most were candid photos of you, but there were other polaroids that included him, Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jin and their other college friends. Your eyes landed on the last polaroid in the album, remembering that moment clear as day. It was at the tower and Jungkook had taken over Jimin's polaroid camera, snatching a photo of you and Jimin with the view of Seoul behind you two. Jimin held you closely, his arm wrapped around your waist, while he planted a huge kiss on your cheek. You smiled from ear to ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing your eyes at how his lips felt against your skin. A note from behind the last polaroid fell out, causing you to crouch to the floor in order to grab it.

Y/N, Merry Christmas. If it's one thing you can do for me before you go back, please hold onto these and remember me. Remember the friends you made and remember our time together.

I'll always hold you close, no matter the distance.

- PJM

You felt your entire body sink against the kitchen island, no longer being able to bear the weight on your own two feet as you cried. And you cried, and you cried. Jimin was everything you had been praying for, the one man who you knew could treat you right and give you the world. There was no hesitation. All you wanted to do was run into his arms and apologize, stay here longer, be selfish. But, you had no idea what was stopping you. Maybe it was the fact that you had everything back home, and you weren't sure if this was too big of a step for you to take.

But God, you would never forgive yourself if you allowed him to get away.

So let's revisit that question one last time: what did you truly want?

#bts #bts fanfiction #jimin fanfiction #jimin #park jimin #pjm series #pjm x reader #jimin x reader #off the grid #otg #writing

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iwantthedean · 4 years

Text

Ma’lak

Summary: Dean helps someone close to him lock away her demons. Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 3130 Warnings: Canon divergence, implied smut, mental health issues, exorcism, angst. Square Filled: Late Night Call for @breakthezone Bingo (LOVE that I can tag now!) A/N: This was borne of a new thing I’m trying in trauma therapy. I hope you all can enjoy it, but please skip it if you think it might trigger you! This is a comfort for me, but I know it may not be that way for everyone. AKF/YANA. Huge thanks to @crispychrissy for making the ma’lak box GIF for me!! I appreciate it more than I can say! A/N2: You may see this again much later in a saga I’ve had running for several years now; that wasn’t how I started out with this in my head, but it quickly turned into that. Just putting that out there ;) If you think you know, shoot me a DM!

“I have an idea. Can you come get me?”

Dean was up and out of the bed in record time. “On my way. Stay there.”

As he pushed his feet into his boots, Dean’s mind raced. It was after midnight; he had been deep in thought about a recent case and hadn’t even realized he dozed off until the phone rang.

She had been on her own for months. Maybe even a year at this point? They talked at least once a month, but hadn’t seen each other since she left in the middle of the night — since Dean had let her go. Demons were dwelling within her and it took all of their strength and focus to keep them at bay. She had lashed out at all of them, more than once, and the last fight she and Dean had gotten into had almost come to blows; the thought of it made him sick to his stomach.

He put those memories and the bunker in his rearview mirror. A stop at the gas station put coffee in his hands and kept him going for the next few hours. Well, the coffee, and a couple rounds of Metallica’s best hits.

“Y/N?” he called after slamming the Impala’s door behind him. He walked carefully up to the isolated camper, catching that the door was slightly ajar. No lights were on and the place was deadly silent. He pulled the handgun from the back of his waistband and called for her again.

Still no answer. Carefully and silently opening the door, he aimed at the driver’s end of the camper, then back towards the bedroom — and right at Y/N.

“Fuck, Dean!” she hissed, pushing the gun away.

He rolled his eyes and clicked the safety before placing the gun on the counter. “You always leave your damn door open at all hours, Y/N/N? Any psycho would waltz in here and —”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dean. Oh, and check your phone every once in a while. I texted you and told you I’d leave the door open and the hideaway made up so you could crash when you got here. You know, so you wouldn’t wake me up.”

With an exhausted, ironic chuckle, Dean held out an arm and stepped closer to her, but then immediately stepped back. “How are you with physical contact these days?”

“Ha. The last time I had physical contact was the last time you and I had physical contact. I keep to myself. Safer that way.”

Y/N flipped on a dim light over the sink and pulled a plastic cup from the small cupboard, filling it with water. She motioned the cup toward Dean after she emptied it, but he shook his head. She shrugged and left the cup upside down in the sink. She offered coffee; that he took her up on.

As she moved about the camper, Dean now took notice of all the things the moonlight through the couple of windows hadn’t allowed him to see in the chaos of his entry.

Her thin-strapped, cotton nightgown hung to her curves and conjured up memories of his hands running over her curves, his lips on her bare skin — was it possible for her skin to be softer now than it had been before? Her hair was longer and, maybe because he was tired, but Dean was having a hard time not carding his hands through it and tugging just enough to pull a whimper from her perfect lips. He had expected those demons swimming within her being to make her harsher, worn out, tired. Maybe she was all of those things, but it didn’t show when he looked at her.

“Coffee’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She said, turning back to him from the small machine. “Dean? You okay?”

He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, sorry. It’s just, you know — for hiding out for so long and keeping those demons maintained, you look — you look good, sweetheart.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes yourself.” Y/N smirked and hopped up to the counter. She looked down at her hands as her expression grew somber; sorrowful. “I know that a lot of things have happened, that we said a lot of things. I said a lot of things. This whole thing has been … it’s driven me to be a person I never wanted to be or thought I would be. I didn’t think about the consequences before I did it, I only thought about keeping everyone else safe.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I guess me of all people, I can’t fault you for that.”

One end of her mouth tugged up. “Have you forgiven me for all the things I said to you? For how far I let it go before I left?”

He stepped up to the counter, gently pressing himself between her knees. He caressed her face with his rough hands — her skin was softer than he remembered — and pressed the ghost of a kiss to her forehead.

“The only thing I’ll never be able to forgive is myself for letting you stay away for so long.”

Y/N’s head fell, as did her tears. Dean’s hands went to her shoulders, pulling her to him. The top of her head butted against his chest. His hands fell down her arms, his thumbs rubbing over her forearms; on her left arm, he felt the scar of The Mark, the thing that had pulled her out of life. Pushed her out. Whatever it was, she had been gone and he had missed her.

Dean cupped her face again, forcing her to face him. Her eyes were red from the tears, but still the same color he had always been able to drown in. Even the quickest of looks from Y/N had commanded his heart to skip a beat, and he had missed that feeling, too.

She sniffled. “I really missed you, Dean.”

“Missed you, sweetheart.”

The words were uttered against her lips, hanging in the air even as he pressed his lips to hers for the first time in too long a time. She whimpered, not the way he had imagined a couple of minutes ago, but in a way that told him she honestly had missed him as much as he had missed her. Maybe even more. The kiss quickly deepened under the pressure of the chemistry between them; the connection that had always been there. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his middle, holding tight and pulling herself against him as her tongue searched out his.

The urge to touch her hair became a need Dean couldn’t ignore. His fingers slid into her hair at the root before his hands formed fists and he gave the slightest pull. Her whimper this time was exactly what he had wished to hear when he was imagining the scenario earlier.

She gripped his jacket lapel again and used it to push him out of kissing reach. Her chest was heaving, one strap of her nightgown had fallen down one shoulder. Her eyes were wide, filled with both fear and lust.

“What if I hurt you?” she whispered.

“If this is how I die,” Dean replied, tucking his fingers under the strap and kissing the top her shoulder before replacing the strap, “then this is how I die.”

Y/N giggle and kissed his cheek. “Then take me back to bed, Dean. It’s been too long.”

Dean tossed off his jacket before lifting her from the counter. He kissed her soundly as he worked them toward her bed, thinking he couldn’t agree with her more.

Their activities still allowed for a few hours of sleep before they were back on the road toward the bunker. Dean had pressed Y/N for what she had in mind, but she wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t like it, but memories of past arguments that had pushed her away stopped Dean from giving in to his tendency to push the issue.

By the time they neared the bunker, the tension was radiating off Y/N like steam and smoke from an overheated engine. Dean pulled the Impala up to the front door and turned off the engine.

“You ready to talk to me about this?”

“Sam called me once since I’ve been gone. He was panicked.” She swallowed so hard, he could hear it. “When Michael was still possessing you, when you didn’t think you were going to be able to stop him, you went away for a while. To Donna’s cabin.”

Dean shook his head. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Is the box still here?”

“No. Jack’s soul was gone, we tried to put him in the box, Lucifer got to him. He blasted the box.”

She nodded. “But you could make another one? You know how.”

Dean drew in a breath and shook his head. “That box is not an option. All right? Me going into the ocean with Michael, that’s one thing. You spending eternity with these demons, with that Mark, is not.”

She licked her lips. “What if it was only the demons and the Mark? What if we could lock them away?”

“How’re we gonna do that?”

“Are you going to help me make the box?”

He met her eyes for the first time since the conversation had started. He pressed his lips into a thin line and reached for the door handle.

“C’mon. Let’s get inside. Sammy’ll want to see you.”

Sam was just as perplexed as Dean as to what her plan was. Y/N was only sharing bits and pieces with them, promising that when the box was done and she was sure the plan could be executed, she would tell them more.

Dean set to work right away. If there was something that was going to make this all go away, he wasn't going to be the one standing in the way of it. Y/N had promised him that if this worked, maybe they could put the whole thing behind them. She could come home and they could start new. He held on to that promise as he worked to complete the Ma’lak box.

The assignment she had for Sam was less physically exhausting, but still exhausting nonetheless. As far as Sam could find, there was nothing that would allow the Mark or even solely its effects from someone to be locked away for all of eternity.

“The Mark has to have a host.” Sam shrugged and pushed away the thick book in front fo him. “If there was an answer, Y/N/N, we would have found it when Dean had the thing. Before Amara, before — okay, well, a lot of things that you don’t need recounted.”

“Yeah, thanks for that. The difference, Sam, is that I didn’t take this. I — okay, you know how it happened, and I won’t recount that for you, either. Favor returned. My point is, if I didn’t ask for it, why do I have to keep it? Why couldn’t I force it out?”

Sam licked his lips. “I don’t think it works like that. And — and ‘force it out’? Listen, I want this to be over just as much as you and Dean do. I do. But I think you’re getting your hopes up about something that isn’t gonna work. I haven’t heard it from your mouth but I think I get where you’re going with this and I don’t think it’s gonna work. I don’t see how.”

Y/N looked around before taking the seat across from Sam and taking in a breath. She licked her lips and looked him in the eye.

“You still feel the demon blood in your soul sometimes,” Y/N stated. “You have dark moments, especially moments of anger, when you want to pull from that power. You want that darkness to take root and grow. You want it to be a part of you still.”

Sam stood from the table. “Stop it.”

Y/N stood, too. “I live with that darkness, multiplied by numbers we don’t comprehend, every day, Sam, and I keep it at bay. I’m that strong — strong enough to command this darkness out of me.”

His shoulder’s rolled back before he turned to her. “But how?”

Y/N’s hand raised, palm up, level with her waist. She curled her fingers up, and Sam felt his soul squeeze. He could breath, his heart rate increased only a few beats, but he could feel the last effects of the demon blood leaving his soul, his veins, his muscles. His whole being.

Black smoke started to appear between them, plumes shooting out in every directions. Sam’s brow furrowed, but Y/N’s face stayed calm and stoic. When he could feel no lingering drops in his system, Y/N still held the dark, polluted smoke between them, but pulled it closer to herself, until the smoke had disappeared into her body in much the same spot as it had been pulled from Sam’s body.

His jaw dropped. “How did you do that?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. One I day, I was in town to get groceries. There was a dark streak in this little boy and I thought about everything we’ve all been through, and I wished that I could take it away. I saw him again in the parking lot, and I had the thought again and that streak started to draw out of him, like I did with you. I’ve been working with it, strengthening the ability. I can take in small darknesses, like that one from that little boy, and pull it out later. But I’ve been letting them back out into the open. My own demons, the Darkness locked within The Mark? I can’t let those out into the open.”

“That’s why you need the box,” Sam surmised, “to lock them away.”

“I don’t know how else to do this,” she returned. “I can’t keep living like this. I finally had a family, and this bullshit took it away from me. I’m not going to take that laying down.”

Sam drew in a deep breath and gave a single nod. “Okay. Well, the lore isn’t going to help us. What else can I do?”

Y/N licked her lips. “If things go south — if I’m wrong about this — don’t let Dean came after me. Whether I’m alive or dead, you’ve got to keep him from coming after me. I don’t want him to come after me. No deals, no spells, nothing. This is my only option and if it doesn’t work …”

Sam stepped slowly towards her, remembering that sudden movements could sometimes trigger her. He reached his arms out, and Y/N accepted the hug he was offering.

Dean ran his hand over a warding on the box, brushing away some dust. He licked his lips and stood back.

“All right. I made the box. Now what?”

Y/N exchanged a glance with Sam, who gave her an encouraging nod. She told Dean about the little boy, about the dark pieces she had been pulling from people, and then from herself.

He raised his brow. “So, you want to exorcise yourself?”

“Essentially, yes,” Y/N answered quietly. “I know that it sounds crazy. I know that but if this is even potentially an option, I have to try it. If I don’t try this, or hell, if it doesn’t work, I don’t know how much longer … I just have to try.”

Dean’s eyes glassed over as he considered the part of the sentence she had left unsaid. “So, if this works, we get you back?”

Y/N shrugged. “As far as I can tell. I’ll be back to being me, anyway, and if you want me back, I’ll come back.”

“If,” Dean snorted. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

“I need you to open the box. And to close it when I tell you.”

Sam nodded. “We can do that.”

“Okay.”

Latin words dribbled from her lips in the form of a whisper as she placed her hands on the front of her ribcage, fingers sprawled. She closed her eyes as she continued to say the words.

When the words stopped, Y/N opened her eyes and set her jaw. She moved her hands slowly forward, pulled plumes of black smoke from her body. Agonized screams and angry growling accompanied the smoking, growing louder the further her hands moved out in front of her. The brothers could see her struggling to stay with it, but neither of them moved for fear of hindering the process.

She gasped in relief when the last plume joined with the others and she pushed the thick, black smoke into the Ma’lak box. The screams grew louder; Sam covered his hands with his ears to ward away the screeching. Dean stood firm at the lid of the box though, waiting for Y/N’s signal.

“Now!”

Dean let the lid slam shut before he quickly latched the locks. As soon as the box was secure, he turned to Y/N where she was on her knees on the floor.

“Hey, c’mon, you’re all right,” he encouraged, pulling her into an embrace. “Y/N, look at me. Tell me what’s going on.”

She leaned into his shoulder. “They’re gone. They’re all gone.”

Dean took her left arm and checked; the Mark was still there. “Y/N …”

“I know,” she answered, pulling her arm away from his grip, “but The Darkness is not in here. If that box is opened, she’ll come back. In the meantime, it’s like — it’s like an abandoned house. As far as I can tell.”

Dean’s head fell back in relief as Y/N continued to lean on him while she regained her strength. Sam went for a glass of water, which seemed to help.

“So where do we drop the box?” Sam asked.

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t want to know. If I feel the pull, I don’t want to know where to go looking. You take it, make sure it’s secure, and drop it somewhere I won’t think to look.”

Sam and Dean both agreed, but they weren’t about to take the box anywhere until they knew for sure she was good. A quick call to Donna and Jody had the two sheriffs making plans to come get the box soon and drop it somewhere none of the three of them would know to look.

Dean picked Y/N up off the ground, kissing her temple before pressing his cheek to hers. He knew that she might be able to walk by now, but, after everything they had been through, he needed to take care of her for a while, for his own sake if not for hers.

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