Oh, Ookay, Now, I'm Not Okay

Oh, ookay, now, i'm not okay

© INVICTUS | Do not edit.

well things escalated quickly

This guy and his accidents are gonna kill me..

blood sweat & tears (2016) // on (2020)

cr. 📹 📹 📹

UGH!

under the sea || pjm (m)

╰ A one shot inspired by the fairytale “The Little Mermaid” by Hans Christian Andersen.

「part of my “Twisted Tales” series 」

♆ pairing: merman!jimin x female reader

♆ word count: 16k

♆ genre: fluff, humor, smut, slight angst

♆ warnings: oral (f&m), fingering, unprotected sex, one almost-drowning, and mentions of death. but mostly just a lot of tooth-rottingly sweet jimin fluff lol

 ♆ a/n: part one of twisted tales is finally here!! this one is a long one but i hope you enjoy cute merman jimin in my take on the little mermaid!!

—————————————————— You stood on the shore and took a deep breath, your senses instantly flooding with the sharp yet familiar salty breeze that rolled off the sea. The clouds overhead were grey and foreboding, and choppy, white-capped waves crashed violently onto the shore as you towed your small rowboat across the damp sand to the edge of the water.

Today’s weather was in no way ideal for sailing, and you knew that; years of experience living by the seaside in your humble little cabin and fishing to earn your living, had taught you well. But you also knew that if you didn’t get out there and make a catch today, you’d have nothing to sell at the market tomorrow, and that meant no money to pay for food and other necessities, so forging ahead into the stormy seas you went.

You slid the bow of your boat into the dark waters, pushing from behind until it was fully afloat in the shallows and climbing inside. Beginning to row away from the shore, you fought sharply against the unrelenting battering of the harsh seas, but regardless of the opposition you faced, you simply steadied your grip on your oars and pressed forward with determination.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander, reminiscing, as you often did these days, on how you used to navigate these same waters with your father not all that long ago. Your mother having passed when you were born, your father had raised you entirely on his own. He was a clever and resourceful man, funny, and endlessly kind—as well as a skilled fisherman himself. He taught you everything you knew, not only about living off the seas, but about life, and you treasured each parcel of wisdom he’d gifted to you; especially now that he was no longer with you.

It had been a few years since he’d passed away, but still you thought of him every day; thought of what he would say if he were here, or how he would tackle whatever problem you were facing. “Water off a duck’s back, Y/N.” He’d repeat his silly old mantra to you again and again in times of fear or doubt. Your father had been your very best—and practically only—friend for your whole life, and without him, you felt undeniably lost and alone. And so you had resolved to just take things one day at a time, and continue living the way you had been for years, all the while the need for something more in your life, for someone more in your life, lay dormant in your heart.

When you had traveled out a considerable distance into the bay, you decided it was time to try and cast your net. You waited for a moment of calm in the waves before standing up and reaching for the well-worn ropes you had knotted together by hand, unfurling them over the side of the boat and casting them into the sea. However, it seemed you had been deceived by the brief lull in the tides, as the moment your net settled into the water, a massive rogue wave rose up behind you and slammed into your ill-equipped seacraft with unforgiving force before you even had time to react. Your small vessel rocked violently with the impact, sending you tumbling over the side and into the drink below.

The sea was cold and black, and from the moment you hit the water, you were chilled right down to the bone. Fighting against the punishing current, you kicked and flailed desperately, trying to make your way back up to the surface to catch a breath, but your efforts proved fruitless. Your clothes felt heavy, completely soaked now, and they had begun to weigh you down, making any attempt of reaching the air above almost impossible.

The oxygen in your lungs was quickly dissipating, and your body was tiring quickly of your frantic movements. Perhaps drowning was a peaceful death? You had begun to bargain with yourself. At first, your lungs had screamed and burned with the sudden influx of water, but after a few moments you felt no pain at all, and you no longer wanted to fight against the numbness that was taking over your body. Slowly, you felt yourself sinking lower and lower into the deep, your consciousness slipping away as the last bubbles of breath escaped from your lips.

You were so beyond your surroundings, that you barely registered the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you, as someone gathered you into their chest and pulled you from the water. Your back hit something solid and damp; the sand? You felt a stinging in your chest, an intense pressure, and you fought to regain consciousness as a voice drifted into your field of perception.

“Come on, open your eyes,” the voice pleaded, desperately with you. “Oh god, please open your eyes.” It was a man’s voice; soft and melodic, but laced with anguish and muddled by your mind in it’s suspended state of functioning.

Slowly, your heavy eyelids began to lift, and as you regained your blurry vision, you could just make out the image of someone above you. With his beautifully indiscernible features and ethereal aura, his visage backlit by the rays of sunlight that poked out from between the dark clouds, he looked like an angel, and for a moment you wondered if you were dead.

“That’s it,” he encouraged you, hopefully, his tone picking up considerably at the signs of life you exhibited. His words assured you that you were, in fact, still alive, and beckoned you to return to the world of the living like a siren’s song. “Come back to me.”

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