Collection of GOT7 One-Shots (xReader)

Rainfall (Bambam)

Another girl crying. It's the fourth this month. Bambam is beating his records, you suppose. Being in the last year of highschool, he has to hustle to keep a hard to beat reputation.

"But I can't hate him, you know," the girl says. What was her name again? Nikki? Nico? You couldn't keep tabs on how many girls approached you to ask just what Bambam wants in a girl. "He's so sweet and nice. I think it's my fault for thinking differently of his gentlemanliness. He's just naturally like that, right? Always trying to make you laugh. Always offering a shoulder to cry on."

You look away. Yes, Bambam was like that. You've been friends since you were kids; your houses beside each other and so when you come over to play with his sister, Baby, you get to play with Bambam too.

Bambam was funny. He would make you laugh with his pranks and puns and stupid faces. But he was also always there when you need him. He knows when to listen and hold you rather than say anything.

It's the reason why even though he became the most popular guy in school and you're just another wallflower trying to survive, you can't act like you don't have any connection with him. He may be out there breaking hearts, but years before, he was there as you try to heal yours.

The bell rings, signaling the end of the lunch break. You look down to your unfinished food; this girl approached you with teary eyes so you couldn't really move until she's done telling her story. It's almost always the same: they become friends with Bambam and find themselves falling for him. But Bambam didn't like labels and even go as far to say he wasn't aware they were falling for him already. So the girls go to you because apparently, you're the only one who knows the real Bambam and is unscathed by his charms.

--

You pray silently that the rain doesn't fall before you can get home. It's one thing to be drenched, another to trigger your phobia. In times like this, you need to be somewhere quiet and dark, surrounded by something soft smelling like lavender.

You run inside your house in time for the first huge drops falling.

There's not much time to prepare. You take your shoes off and grab a blanket to hide yourself under. Why is it that your school didn't cancel classes when they know a storm will hit the afternoon?

The raindrops come strong and loud against your window. You hug yourself a little tighter. Please, don't be too loud.

"Hey, open the window!"

You open your eyes abruptly.

"Hey! I'm here! Let me in!"

You slowly peek from under your blanket. The knocking on your window continues.

It's Bambam. Of course, Bambam.

You stumble to get pass your bed and open the window. You step away as Bambam struggles to get in, closing the window behind him. How he manages to do that everytime is beyond you. Bambam was small before, so he could sneak in everytime he knows you will be afraid. But now, after five years, he's not the little boy you can nonchalantly hold hands with.

Why is he here?

"Oh, God, I hope it doesn't get as bad as when we're like seven. Are you okay? Is the lavender spray still on the second drawer."

You stay standing still, watching as Bambam opens your drawer. Your room has changed, but Bambam still walks as if it's his own. He doesn't bat an eye on how girly it has become or how your pictures together aren't displayed anymore.

"Oh, shoot, I'm drenching your carpet. Just let it dry later. Come on."

He grabs your hand and pulls you to the corner. He lets you settle there curled up like a lost child as he takes his wet jacket off and settle with his simple shirt.

Bambam at school wouldn't be seen wearing something plain. It's one of the reasons why he's eye-catching. But the Bambam in front of you is just like the little boy with a different printed shirt everyday. He would tell you about the characters on his shirt or how it was bought by his grandmother.

You still don't speak when he securely wraps you in the blanket and sprays the lavender mist all over your room.

"Close your eyes," he says softly. Like hypnotized, you follow.

You feel his warmth at once.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here with you. The rain won't hurt you."

You feel your heart break a little. After all these years, he's still your sanctuary. He was the one who found you alone and cold the rainy day your mother was killed. He was the one who would accompany you whenever the thunder reminds you of the gunshot.

And you cry to him. You cry from the trauma and the loneliness and the helplessness and the comfort. While all those girls cry because of how Bambam wouldn't catch them, you cry for how Bambam was holding you in his arms.

--

"Why did you come?" you ask as the rain turns to drizzle and you have no more tears left to cry.

"Why wouldn't I come? You need me," he says, caressing your hair softly.

You sigh, exhausted, but mostly, relieved. "I thought you've forgotten about me with how popular you are now. Your girls keep on coming to me, you know. They want to know who you are before you became this cool heartbreaker."

He laughs. You missed his laugh. "I'm still me. I'm still here."

"Why?" you get the strength to move away from his hold and look him in the eye. "Why are still here for me?"

"I guess it's the same as why you're still afraid of thunder. It reminds you of something heartbreaking, so you can't move past it." He stands up to stretch. It's been a long hour crouching to keep you close.

"I don't understand," you say as he picks up his jacket from the floor and go to the window.

He opens it and looks up to check if the sky is clearing. It's safe to leave you again. He looks back to give you a smile. "How can I move on when every rainfall reminds me of how I fell for you?"