So I know I’m not very active on here in terms of writing my stories and that I have promised a lot in my masterlist and still have yet to post them.
I will be taking some time to write down these fanfics so that I can have some content for when I work on my bigger projects.
In order to make up for that loss of activity, I’ve been looking through old stories of mine that I had never posted and prompts to fit them to scenarios with the BTS members. Yesterday I posted a fanfic of Tae and it got more likes than I honestly expected in the last 24 hours. So since people seemed to like it so much, I decided to give young author me a second chance and actually post her ideas.
I hope to have more fanfics out.
Here is the V fanfic in case you want to read it and a link to my master list:
Ablaze: Amongst an insuperable realm of flames, dwelled another king; his throne rested atop a mountain, of ashes. In his isolated mind was a fortress of pristine perfection, and his means of fulfilling this pinnacle meant blazing a path of fire. There were few who opposed his rule, for the slightest misstep lead to incineration.To him, his power was limitless bounded only by the constraints of fire. Thus, he feared only one thing, water…
Smut/Porn With Some Plot That is Rapidly Getting Out of Hand Dear God Why Please Help Me
Warnings: Complicated Morality, Lots of Stockholm Syndrome, Addiction, Possessiveness, Vampires (Reference to Biting, Blood-Sucking and Death), Language
↳Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry…
“In common, huh?” you echo, dubious, still trying to maintain an air of bitterness. You cross your arms over your chest, wiping at the sticky tear lines on your face.
“Yeah.”
There’s another moment of quiet between the two of you. Jungkook just looks too genuine, sitting not two feet away, braced for rejection. With his shoulders hunched, head down, doe eyes wide…he looks just as small as you feel. You’re all too aware he could probably bench press you, even without the ever-mysterious vampiric powers, but here and now…Damn him. You don’t really want to go back inside yet. That’s for sure. Eventually, you decide you’ll take the distraction. As long as you keep the somber mood and keep a distance, you’ll be able to talk yourself out of wanting in his pants, surely.
“Fine. Shoot. What’s the first thing?”
“Neither of us had a good life. Before. Full of drunks and shitty living situations and especially a piece of shit car.”
That makes you snort. “Definitelythe car?”
His small grin is toothy, more pleased and relieved than you care to notice that you took the bait. “Oh, yeah. My dad’s truck. It was an old, old model. Discontinued. He never had the money to get the stupid thing fixed. Everytime I stole the keys off him, part of me prayed this would be the time it just finally fucking exploded. Take me with it, maybe.”
“You stole your father’s keys?”
“He would pass out in the kitchen every Wednesday and Friday night.”
Oh. This feeling like guilt flashes through you. You’re pretty sure you have more in common with his father on this point. Again you think of the woman in the video and your throat constricts.
“I think I was like that, too,” you admit, quiet.
“Well, that’s a difference between us, then. I didn’t drink until after I turned.”
“Wait, can vampires drink alcohol?”
He shakes his head with a scoff, tossing his hair. “Not really. Can, but anything but blood makes us way sick. Taehyung chugs energy drinks sometimes, and it knocks him out with killer migraines for like, days at a time. Anyways.”
You refuse to let the mental image cheer you up any, but it is a funny little thought. Almost endearing. “Anyways,” you agree.
“I helped my dad with his police work sometimes. He’d pull me out of class and I’d do odd jobs around the office. Busy work, mostly. Get him coffee, that sort of thing. Organized files. So when a boy from the local university went missing…I was one of the first to know about it. One of the newer classmen, by the name of Kim Taehyung.
This isn’t a big town. Sometimes people go missing, y’know. Runaways, mostly.” His head bobs, his eyes going wistful. When he gestures, it’s like he’s practicing well-rehearsed excuses at the empty space he’s addressing. “I thought about it, from time to time, being one of them. But the strangest thing was that his best friend started acting…weird.”
“His best friend.”
“Wanna guess?”
“…Jimin?”
Jungkook glances back at you. His brows twitch upwards. “That’s the one. He didn’t come to the funeral service. Didn’t have anything to say about the day Tae vanished. Refused to go to counselling. And they never found the body. A few months later? Park Jimin also disappears.”
He cocks his head, casting a look out over the grounds. “A year goes by. Two. Three. Their photos stayed on the corkboard in the office hall, but nobody saw their faces anymore. The Kims moved out. The Parks stayed a long time. I mean, a real long time. I heard rumors about Taehyung’s family, familiar kinds of rumors, but Jimin’s family was the kind you see on TV. They never really stopped looking. They funded a huge search. Reward posters and everything.”
He shrugs, eyes flicking downwards, to idly watch his fingers rubbing at his own knuckles. There are scars there that you didn’t notice before, mazes and crisscrosses of scuffs and scrapes that must tell impressive stories of their own right. You want to kiss them. All of them, one by one. You want those fingers in your mouth—
A shiver runs through you and you use the motion as a coverup for a hard blink, twitch of your head. Focus. Pay attention. Sad. Somber. Listening.
“The money would’ve been useful. Buy me a car that works. A ticket out of town. Somewhere nobody knows about ‘Officer Jeon’s fucked up kid’. And the thought of reuniting a straight A, straightlaced kid like Jimin with his loving family? Maybe go full Annie—get them to adopt Taehyung while I’m at it? Give somebody else a chance with a good home, loving family? I had all kinds of fantasies. I couldn’t even think that they might have been dead. Or worse.”
Or worse? You shift, damning the carousel underneath you for easing into a screech when you dare to move your weight. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to ward off the chill creeping up on you. It’s cold out here when you aren’t stomping and crying. You aren’t going to scoot closer to Jungkook, not even for warmth. No matter how cold it gets. You don’t want to tuck your head into his chest and inhale the source of that faint smell drifting your way on the breeze. You don’t. Don’t want to put your fingers in his hair. Don’t want to…taste. Any of him.
“Yeah,” Jungkook affirms the frown on your face with a scoff, for entirely the wrong reason. “Yeah. Worse. Because the second thing you and I have in common is we both headed into something we weren’t prepared for.”
His tone goes soft, his brows pulling together. You can see something dark, something buried, clawing its way up his body and sinking into his shoulders. It makes him smaller. Pulls him into himself.
“I found them. Took a lot of digging through sightings, sudden shipments of online orders of things like video games and comic books to a supposedly abandoned park, a lot of sneaking and some illegal stalking. My theory then was that this ‘Jin’ guy was maybe a murderer. A kidnapper. I could confront him, put him away, make everyone happy. Make pops proud, for once, just in time to put him to the back of an exhaust pipe.”
He takes a shaky breath. “You don’t…changing isn’t a quick thing. You don’t just wake up like this. It can take months. Months where you don’t know who you are, where you are. You’ll bite anything with a pulse. The first time I walked into the park was the last time I had one of those.”
He rubs at his shoulder, remembering an old wound. You scratch at your neck.
“It wasn’t his fault. But Jimin came out of the dark, right at me, all wild eyes and crazy hair. I don’t remember much about when I came to, except the awful, awful way my blood stained the grass. Shitty Jungkook ruins somebody’s lawn, I thought. I know someone was crying, holding me. It was raining so hard, but all I could hear was sobbing. Apologizing.
At some point, I know Jin asked me if I wanted to live. And I remember thinking, do I? Don’t I? Why would I do that?” he scoffs again, the sound painful. “It’s not like anyone would miss me. At least up on that fuckingcorkboard…maybe there’s where I’d finally belong. I passed out again before I could give them my answer. I hoped they’d kill me.”
He’s quiet for a long time. You don’t want to feel bad for him. But that anger, that helplessness. You’re right, and your experiences aren’t the same.
And still, he isn’t wrong. You do have a lot in common.
“They kept you,” you say finally, no small amount of irony tinging your voice.
“Yeah. With Namjoon gone, Jin didn’t have Jackson keeping an eye out for him inside the police force. The minute he figured out who I was, he’d already decided what he was going to do with me.”
You shift again, subconsciously rubbing at your arms for warmth. A moment of silence passes. Crows, far off in the park, hold a brief council. The sound of their chatter echoes off the miles of rusted metal and climbing vines. When the wind blows again, the trees answer with a subdued counterargument of rustled leaves. You and Jungkook are alone in the world.
“So. That’s the second thing.”
“Hmm?” He snaps out of his reverie, throwing you a confused look with a wide blink. You return his expression with a wry half-grin.
“The second thing we have in common. A lack of choice.” You clarify.
Jungkook’s face softens, shoulders dropping. He turns, shuffling his arms out of his jacket. When he scoots forward, the carousel squeals its disapproval, but you both ignore it. Your pulse quicks in your chest, your neck, the mark at your chest thudding in time with the beats and you flinch back from him, staring. Waiting. But he reaches behind you to drape the biker jacket across your shoulders. He tugs it forward with a kind of clumsy, unsure care. Like if he pulled too hard you would shatter. His warmth envelopes you with a ‘whoof’ of air, drowning you in that heady scent you now recognize is not, in fact, cologne. You can’t help but close your eyes and inhale, deep. There’s no question in your mind that you could track him across the continent with this smell. Jungkook.
Your head snaps back up, eyes flying open, coming to just enough to be embarrassed. But he’s focused on trying to fix the clasp at the top of the jacket, secure it just enough to keep you warm. His long fingers fly across the leather, unsteady, searching, but determined and eventually it clicks into place. He pauses, obviously satisfied, but doesn’t move back. His hands hover. Your heartbeat quickens in your throat.
“Jimin and Tae worked the hardest to make me feel welcome. Let me stay in the extra room instead of the bedroom. Kept an eye on me while I was changing. Bailed me out when I almost got caught,” he mumbles, as if talking to himself, “And as for the station, I still work there sometimes. I do what Jin wants. What we need. Move files, edit paperwork, run plates. Nothing big, but enough to help keep us hidden.”
“That’s good of you,” you reply, hushed. “You sound like you figured it out eventually…” It’s impossible to think past the phantom feeling of his lips against your skin. The taste of his tongue. The taste of…your eyes flick downwards, a flush travelling up through your neck before you can stop yourself. When you meet his gaze again, he’s darkly intent. You don’t imagine he can’t guess what you were thinking of.
“Do you want my advice?”
God, you can still feel him. Every breath draws him through the roof of your mouth, floods your veins. Are you leaning forward? It’s hard to tell. Suddenly you’re too warm. “Hmm?”
“My advice,” he reiterates. He moves so subtly that even the beast beneath you only mutters a brief complaint. It takes him close enough to you that you could press your lips to his neck if only you leaned upwards. “Considering how much we have in common.”
“Please.”
“Think about yourself, first. Fuck everyone else.” You wish he would. “Ask yourself what youwant, when you don’t know where to go. What to do.”
“And what do you want?” you ask, low, watching his eyes cast to your lips with a familiar sinking feeling. He hums, thoughtful. The sound lights warmth in your chest, his breath a cool huff against your mouth when he exhales.
“I want to be selfish,” he murmurs. He leans forward.
He stops. You stop. The both of you look down in unison.
Your hand is on his chest, splayed against the grey t-shirt fabric. Why is it there?
Jungkook blinks, owlish. “…No?”
What? No, what? Oh, right. Right, yes. No.
“No.” You can feelthe distance between you. Can taste every single inch that separates you from his body. Your palm on his chest burns, tugged by pure magnetism.
“…What do you mean ‘no’?” “I mean I’m—” What doyou mean by ‘no’? It should be yes. Yes, yes, yes, Jungkook, yes, more, yes, please. Right here, now, outside, where everybody can see, where it’s cold and the carousel screeches with every movement and— “I’m saying…no. This time. No kissing.”
The thought runs visibly around his head. He watches you like he’s pondering the spin of the world on its axis.
He blinks again, hard. When he speaks again, it’s in a shocked, conspiratorial whisper. “No kissing, ever??” It’s an effort not to laugh at his scandalized expression.
“N-no kissing. Right…right now. I’m trying to make choices.”
“Choices.”
You wrack your brain to remember what it was you said to Jin. “I…I want to know who I was. And I want to choose who I am now.”
“Oh.” Jungkook’s tongue rolls over the inside of his mouth, his eyes casting down and to the side, brows furrowing. Finally, he nods. “Okay.”
He leans back, away from your hand, and it takes more effort than it should to return the limb back to your side.
“But you said that you didn’t get much from that video.” Jungkook shifts again, shoulders hunching. He’s back to looking small. Awkward.
You worry the inside of your cheek. Your hand comes up to tug absently at the jacket draped over your shoulders. You want to bury your face in it and drown in his scent. “…Yeah. I really didn’t.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“I dunno. I thought maybe I’d look for myself online?”
He snorts, once. “You won’t find much beyond what the news stations are saying. It’s all the same shit. I tried.”
“Did you?”
The boy sitting across from you shrugs, suddenly incapable of looking at you directly. He’s a young man again, not a demon, not a devil. Young and unsure, in the presence of something bordering on intimate. Sections of his hair flutter in the wind. He squints. “Curious. Before Jin grounded us.”
That gets a laugh out of you. “Right.”
“Heartless. Heartless man.”
A murderer. A kidnapper. Is that your Jin? Someone who asked to hold you. Prepared your room with all the excitement of somebody expecting someone long lost and beloved. Someone who kissed you softly, gently, like he was losing sight of the horizon.
Sat with you while you tried to find reasons to hate him, and at every turn offered you a way out, if you wanted. Understood when you didn’t.
The same man who treats you like a pet. The same man who changed Jungkook without his permission. Uses him like a pawn. Uses you like an accessory.
Somehow, he’s both of these people.
You and Jungkook share in another moment of quiet.
“Wait. Plates?” You break the silence suddenly, turning to look at your companion once more.
“Hmm?”
“You run plates. At the station.”
Jungkook purses his lips. Sniffs, runs his arm under his nose. “Yeah. Sometimes. Takes about a day or so, but it helps keep tabs on other covens.”
“The video,” you breathe. Excitement doesn’t come easily to you. Not when it isn’t about getting your next fix. But here, now, it blossoms in your chest, pure and energizing. “Wait, Jungkook, the video. If I got you the license plate from my shitty car, could you run it? Get—get information on it? ”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. I could do that.”
“Really?? Jungkook, that would mean everything to me!”
The smile that he hides in a shrug of his shoulder is shy. When he snorts, it’s quiet. His ear flares up into a fiery red that casts down the side of his neck. Suddenly he’s having trouble looking directly at you.
“Okay.”
This could be it. You can get Jungkook to run the plates, get your name, location—maybe even your records? The mugshot. The police station would have the information you’ve been looking for. Who you were. Where you came from. The identity of the woman in the video, of you. Somehow, you’re closer than ever.
“What do I get?” Jungkook’s voice interrupts your daydreaming and scheming.
“Hmm?”
“We’re collaborating now, right? You and me. Since you agree we’re similar.”
You can’t get a read on him. His tone is breezy, but…you know better than to assume what that might mean. “Right…?”
“So what do I get for helping you? If we’re like…partners, now. Y’know.”
Partners... Right. Right, that sounds good. That actually sounds very good. But there are alarm bells sounding off in your head. Your throat goes dry and you try to swallow past it without making it too obvious the effect he’s starting to have on you again.
“What, um,” you try, slow. “What would you like?”
His teeth gnaw at his lips. He blinks out over a patch of grass, and it’s a wonder it hasn’t caught aflame yet with the intensity of his stare.
“Can…can I have a kiss?” he says after a beat. “Could you…choose to kiss me?”
Is….is he making fun of you? But the way he looks to you is genuine. Way too genuine. Excited. Hesitant, but hopeful.
“A kiss?”
“Yeah. Can I have one, if I help you? Just a kiss!” he clarifies hastily, hands coming up in defense. “We don’t have to do anything else, if you decide not to.”
If you decide not to. Dangerous. Dangerous. There’s no way he can understand how thinly you’re teetering on that line as is. But…is this him, trying? Offering you a choice. Maybe not much of one, but it’s a start. You could tell him no, if you wanted. Warmth spreads across your chest, climbing up to your face.
Do you want to tell him no? Or do you want to kiss him? It’s no contest. No contest at all. Your mouth opens. Shuts.
“Yeah. Okay. If you run the plates for me, I’ll…we’ll have a kiss.”
“Is that okay?” He really has no idea how okay it is. How entirely okay it is.
“One kiss for now,” you amend, slow, trying to hide the nervous grin that wants to climb its way across your face. “A-and one for later. If you do it. When you do.”
“Two kisses, huh?” Jungkook replies. His brows flick upwards, playful. “Greedy…” His eyes cast down you for a half second and you have to tamp the desire to add one for the road.
“Selfish.” you correct. His expression scrunches into a wide, happy smile. One that weirdly tugs at your heart.
He nods agreeably. “Selfish.”
He scoots forward again, leaning.
You arch up.
When your lips meet, it’s chaste. There’s no hurry. No desperation. You kiss at his lower lip, ignoring the chill that breaks across your skin when he hums, content. Your eyes flutter closed. You focus on the warmth of him, the taste, god he tastes so sweet. How soft his lips are, how soothing his mouth as it caresses yours.
When you part with a sigh, you realize his hands are hovering. They drift back down to his sides. A thrill runs through you when you understand that was him obeying your boundaries. A cognizant effort, to keep himself from touching you. From taking things too far. Can you do the same? Your eyes drop to half mast, pulling your lip through your teeth. You can still feel him. Taste him. You’re so close. You want him so badly. You want his hair between your fingers, his body on top of yours, his tongue, his teeth, his cock.
You’rechoosing, you are, but god, it’s so hard to make the right choice.
He watches you toy with your thoughts. He licks his lips, nervous, but doesn’t move otherwise.
Suddenly, your stomach breaks the quiet, growling loudly. Jungkook legitimately shrinks back in surprise, staring at your belly before bursting into laughter. The sultry spell is broken and replaced with horrific embarrassment on your part and comical shock from him.
“There’snoway that was you!” he says between cackles, reaching to poke at his jacket.
Mortified, your arms automatically shield your torso, but he needles you anyways, grinning. Brows up in his hairline, eyes narrowed to slits with the force of his prominent smile.
“What, are you hiding a lion in there? Holy shit!”
“It’s hard to keep track of mealtimes!” You protest, slapping his hand away. A giggle snakes through your tone. “You’d know that if you still ate!”
“I never sounded like that!”
“That’s a lieand a half!”
He laughs again, throwing his head back, and you can’t help but laugh along. He turns the rock back forward into a standing motion, the momentum carrying him back onto his feet. One of his hands buries into his jean’s pocket. The other reaches familiarly towards you.
“Come on. Jin stocked the kitchen for you. Real food this time, not just crackers.”
“Oo. Fancy.” You rub absently at your eyes, still a little sticky from before.
“Only the finest. You go and get something to eat, I’ll get a screenshot of the license plate from Jin. Teamwork.
Partner,” he adds, careful.
“Alright. Partner.” You take his hand and pull to stand beside him, tugging his jacket more firmly around your shoulders. His smell wafts around you, holding you like you wish you could hold him. His palm is warm and dry, his fingers holding yours delicately. His answering smile is like the sun, his eyes squinting with the strength of his childish joy. His teeth glint briefly. You shiver and look away.
Sanghyuk sidled up to Minah who stood by the microwave reheating the pasta. Patting her shoulder to get her attention, he cleared his throat and looked down.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Minah replied, trying to hold back the giggle threatening to bubble past her lips “what’s up?”
“About earlier today,” he began, looking down and squirming “I’m really sorry…you know for chucking you into the pool. I saw that you didn’t have your phone in your pockets and just went for it…”
“Thank you for your concern for my phone,” the giggle finally slipped past making Sanghyuk whine petulantly.
“I’m trying to apologise! I didn’t know your sandals were rocks!”
“Han Sanghyuk!” Hakyeon hissed from the other end of the kitchen holding up a stack of plates. Sanghyuk raised his hands in surrender.
“I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”
“Sanghyuk!” Hakyeon looked like he was ready to throw a plate at the giant human standing beside Minah who was now doubled over with laughter. Taking a deep breath to calm herself down, she opened the door of the beeping microwave to pull the pasta out before turning to Sanghyuk.
“You’re forgiven. Now take this out there and don’t eat any on the way.”
Sanghyuk’s serious face turned into a giant grin as he took the dish from her “I make no promises,” he winked “Jaehwan will come soon with the prepared speech as well. He went to the loo because ‘Hakyeon’s glare was making him queasy’” he added conspiratorially making Minah chuckle.
“I did nothing except tell him off!” Hakyeon added defensively, trying to pile glasses onto the stack of plates in his arms. Minah walked over to take the glasses from him, shaking her head.
“Thank you for defending my…honour. Now let me save yours before these glasses fall and Wonshik throws a fit about us breaking the only glasses he has at home.”
Hakyeon grinned sheepishly, following her out to the large dining table where Haneul was setting jugs of drinks while Wonshik counted the number of forks and spoons that were on the table. Minah smiled as she set the glasses down, she was fond of how Haneul and Wonshik worked as a unit, weaving in and out of each other’s actions and thoughts. There was a silent intimacy between them that Minah admired, it was something that couldn’t be broken into.
“How were the interviews?” he asked in a low voice, opening the box of cake to take a look at it.
“It was alright, there was the same problem as always.” Haneul sighed, running her hands through her hair. Wonshik reached over to squeeze her shoulder soothingly.
“You were too smart for the interviewees?” he grinned making her huff as she undid the plastic around the delivery noodles Hongbin had ordered as his “contribution” (given that all of Hongbin’s experiments in the kitchen seemed like material that would land someone in the hospital).
“Basics are such an issue, they don’t know the basics of anything. I had to ask them so many roundabout questions to see if they even know how to use Excel, honestly.”
“Well I think it’s mighty nice of you to at least give them a chance with your roundabout questions,” Wonshik nodded solemnly, pressing a quick kiss on the top of her head before plucking the plastic wrap from her fingers and heading into the kitchen to dispose of it. Minah turned to see Hakyeon busily piling his plate.
“Minnie-aaah!” Jaehwan’s voice chirped as he barreled into the room freezing at the sight of Hakyeon “uh…sorry for trying to kill you.”
Haneul’s palm met her forehead and Hakyeon sighed.
“Does no one know how to apologise?”
“No, no they don’t.” Haneul sighed, picking her own plate up to reach for the sandwiches.
“What! I still apologised didn’t I? Acknowledged what I did and everything!” Jaehwan declared, waving his arms around defensively as Minah patted him.
“Yes yes, you are forgiven. Could you please call the people setting up board games in the living room to come and get their food?”
“Calling can be done,” Jaehwan nodded before hurrying to the door that connected the living room to the dining hall and bellowing “GRUBS UP LOSERS!” which caused a murmur to fill the room as people scrambled up to come into the dining room and pile their plates. Haneul turned to Minah.
“So I was just telling the boys, while you were upstairs with Miya, that I wasn’t comfortable sending you home alone like this,” she said, nodding at Minah’s get-up. “I know you’re alright, but I think nearly drowning is a traumatic experience.”
“Seriously Haneul, I’m fine,” Minah chuckled, waving her hand dismissively.
“It would really give me some comfort…” Haneul bit her lip, frowning.
“Alright, I’ll ask Sanghyuk to drop me off. Don’t worry!”
“Actually…” Haneul began, looking right behind Minah.
“I volunteered to drop you off,” Taekwoon’s voice piped up beside Minah as he picked up a plate making her start. Minah opened her mouth and shut it before opening it again.
“Please don’t trouble yourself! Honestly, I live in the middle of nowhere, I’m sure it will be way out of your way. You did more than enough to help me out today, I owe you big time as it is.” she rambled, wringing her hands, feeling his eyes on her.
“I live in the same neighbourhood, which is why I offered when Wonshik mentioned it,” he said, reaching for the pasta and serving himself some. Minah gaped yet again at the taller feeling heat creep up her cheeks. She cursed herself. She cannot have a crush on this random handsome man just because he saved her. For all she knew, he was probably dating someone. No one this good-looking could be single, she said to herself, the idea sounding like a very convincing argument. Shaking the thought out of her head, she cleared her throat.
“Uhm, if you don’t mind, then thank you.”
He nodded in response, picking up a cookie from the box Jaehwan had brought in.
You knew three things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Secondly, he was the devil and thirdly, which Jimin himself insisted to be true, was that he was in love with you.
•type: Jimin x reader • rating: SFW • w/c:6.3k•main masterlist
•genre/about: fluff, friends? to lovers? very much romantic vs. emotionally constipated feat. adulthood feat. extremely pining Jimin because when the guy is the pining one is peak intellect fight me, the reader has specific zodiac placements but other than that nothing bodily wise is mentioned
•c/w: mentioned attempt to coerce someone into drug abuse, mention of past eating disorder, discussion of self-image issues, mildly suggestive
•a/n: was just rifling through my drafts and remembered this was a thing. I liked it even though it’s unfinished and kinda sappy
There were three things that needed to be known about Park Jimin, was what Tilla told you while you had jogged to meet her boyfriend’s roommate. In order: he was a Libra Sun, Gemini Moon, and Cancer Rising, which can all be summarised in one category - he was incredibly flirty. Though Tilla insisted she had already said Libra Sun whatever that meant and that there was no other, literally no other, bar for her Namjoonie, that was as ethereal as Jimin. Those were the things that preceded his fine name - good looking to an insane degree and flirty. Hence why when you had glimpsed the top of his bleached head, you had already swerved hard left then and remained the only one from the clash of two social circles - Namjoon’s and Tilla’s - as an absolute mystery.
Tilla once again insisted that she had alreadymade everyone aware of your Scorpio Sun status…whatever the hell that meant.
Now, some years, not a lot but some years gone, you knew three more accurate things about Park Jimin. In order, he was, despite all, a very kind man. Really, not even being an eternal sceptic -
“It’s that Capricorn Moon of yours, I’m telling you,” Tilla declared, passionately waving around a fork and accidentally sending a piece of egg flying into Namjoon’s face who was unsuspectingly sitting by the neighbouring cafeteria table. A victim in many cases. That’s how they met actually.
- not even being an eternal sceptic, could sway that despite the occasional, human hiccup, Park Jimin was an attentive and caring man. Secondly, he was the devil.
As you had gawked at the suggestive photo of him, grabbing his crotch, long tongue poking at the corner of his full lips, the entire shebang and acknowledging that he made that sort of lewd act look artistic, you knew that Park Jimin was an ocean if not the whole world of hurt. When you confronted him over the group breakfast, why would he ever send such a thing, he had only smirked over a cup of orange juice and after innocently fluttering his eyelashes, asked whatever did you mean. Of course, not five minutes after another picture had followed.
All of that could be ignored, pushed, shoved, burned and forgotten. If not for the third thing.
The third thing which Jimin himself had insisted to be true.
Which is that he was in love with you.
You wake up one day and you’re an adult. An adult with bills to pay and taxes to be deducted. You work away in a job you don’t like but don’t dare to change because unemployment is no joke and you live in a studio apartment too small that costs too much and is not in any shape or form of any resemblance to the appealing pictures of the white and green variety found on Instagram. Your socks have holes and your shoes let in water when it rains too hard. You’re so very lonely but you’ve given up on the dating scene because the fear of being messed up, being damaged is too great. Dating is hard. Opening up to people is hard.
There is very little romance to be found while you wander on a path that feels like a wrong choice but you don’t want to think about it too hard yet because what if you had messed up and what if you will end up exactly like hundreds of others, figures in the disgruntled mass, all chasing a dream that maybe didn’t even exist.
It’s all very bleak.
Except for Saturdays.
Saturdays are these nice little blankets of comfort where nice things are possible, given, of course, that you spend money on them but that doesn’t matter. You can sleep in, then tuck the sheets that need a wash, over the bed and grabbing only your wallet to name, venture out into the city. You’ve got your tote bag, because nowadays everyone has them and you stroll, briefly careless, underneath the sun. And then you can get a coffee of your choice and an overpriced something that the barista swears their soul for and you can sit and dream in the plushy chairs of the ambient little coffee shop.
It’s as near to perfection as you can get.
If not for Park fucking Jimin.
You’re not a university student anymore and you’re far from high school, all the romantic nonsense of meet-cute, friend of a friend and such are well over, you’re simply too old for it. It must be some ultra ironic twist of fate for him to look into the shop window just at the moment when you look out. He freezes mid-step and meets your gaze, recognizing you, well because…because supposedly he was in love with you.
It was a damp July night and cicadas were in a full shriek all around the small meadow. You passively watch from the sidelines as Namjoon and Tilla sway together, completely in their own world. Namjoon had gone through your immaculately designed trials and tribulations from hell and made it through with passable grades. And in spite of the habitual threats of emasculating him with a corkscrew and the rather deep resentment for their romance, you are, in the end, happy for these two baboons and hold your fingers crossed that they will not contribute to the divorce rates and instead be one of those couples, farting next to each other in their old. Or whatever the fuck they did.
You guard your champagne like it’s a lifeline because holy hell Yoongi was snorting that shit by the litres and you salute quietly to yourself - to the end of an era.
But… but Jimin is also there. Jimin was…complicated. For you, at least. He’s looking at you. He was always looking at you but it never quite grows into being creepy. It’s simply peculiar by now but it’s been already four years since you were begrudgingly introduced to each other and you’ve made peace with being in his focus.
He outdid himself this evening. Absolutely stunning visuals from Mr Park. It’s just an objective fact, you think to yourself.
“I like you,” he suddenly says, the light breeze ruffling his hair.
You laugh awkwardly but Jimin doesn’t.
“Uh…I like you too.”
“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’m in love with you.”
After a stilted pause, he continues.
“Strange, isn’t it?” his smile seems bizarrely self-conscious. “To be in love?”
What do you say when such a thing is just dropped upon you with no warning whatsoever?
“Guess so.”
Well, probably not that.
Jimin left quickly after. Went on the world tour or whatever models did and you don’t see him anymore.
Usually, the confession meant the end of the movie, the culmination of the plot, the beginning of the happy ever after but this was real life and as such there was nothing, just the fearful pondering of what could have been better and self-congratulatory pats of what was avoided. He becomes a voice in your head, forever confusing you as to why would he say such a thing and a distantly familiar face printed on the covers of laminated, high-end magazines.
Yes, all the cuteness, all the cliche romance is over. But if you believed them, which you didn’t, but if you did, then the image of Park Jimin bounding towards you with a smile so wide his eyes did the thing of narrowing into thin lines, would be the only one who’d fit the scenarios.
“Hello, stranger,” he beamed, hooking off the mask and advancing forward with great speed and agility. It was that grace of an unceasing charmer. Cancer Rising. Whatever that meant. You scamper upwards, weighing between a hand wave or a nod of the head and then you’re left standing still as Jimin hugs you. Not a casual press against the side hug but a bone-crushing, enveloping-you-fully-until-all-you-smell-is-my-cologne type of hug. The breed of which you’ve missed dearly.
It takes him a while, a couple of wags from left and right, to step back and look you over. As he’s smiling wide you focus on that one crooked tooth in his mouth. A one, neat little flaw to remind you and everyone else that he was, in fact, a human being but unfortunately this was Park Jimin and even his flaws were at their worst merely endearing.
“You look lovely,” he praises and you clear your throat. Did he have to be so sincere about it?
“You too. Though you must hear it often.”
He inclines his head.
“I like to hear it from you. Thank you.”
You hum, glancing down at your occupied seat. Jimin does too.
“May I join?” he asks.
“Sure.”
You meant to say no. Did you? Did you really? There’s nothing wrong with talking a bit with Jimin, right? Catch up? He wasa friend of a friend, anyway.
And also the guy who was in love with you.
Okay.
Alright.
Like that makes sense.
He pulls the chair and nestles into it, running his hands through his hair. You had seen nearly all the colours of the rainbow on his head. How he had even a scalp to hold onto, the world may never know.
“How have you been?”
“….I’ve been here.”
He gives a gracious laugh. Jimin was always so quick to laugh.
“And is it nice here?”
You glimpse outside.
“Not really.“
He chuckles again. It must be the condensation from all the coffee making. The shop was getting quite toasty.
"What about you? What have you been doing?”
You fetch Jimin his matcha latte, declining his offer to pay back.
“Worked nonstop, pretty much,” he shrugs. “I went on a runway once, but I stopped doing it when I developed an eating disorder and my manager suggested to do cocaine.”
You are left sitting with your mouth wide open like a fool.
Jimin’s eyes crinkle as he smiles at such a thing. Like it wasn’t fucked up as all shit that it happened.
“I’m better now though. Kicked that piece of shit away.“
Everyone knew that everyone had self-image issues. That was the selling point, it was profitable for even the objectively perfect to be doubtful of themselves and spend thousands and thousands on diet pills, form-fitted clothes, alternative "healthier” eating which was the same look-obsessed culture now rebranded itself as wellness. Yes, you comprehended that but it didn’t make it any less unbelievable to hear someone like Jimin, Park the motherfucking Jimin, openly reveal that he didn’t like how he looked.
He curiously watches your brain gear and error over and over again.
“Don’t apologise if that’s what you want to do?” he laughs, quietly, shyly, like he’d done something wrong. “It’s not your fau-”
“I just think that’s an atrocious fucking horseshit,” your mouth runs on auto-pilot because your brain is lacking. It was never a good combination.
“What is?”
“For anyone to ever think you’re not beautiful.”
Unbeknownst to you, Jimin blushes bright red because it’s the brutal honesty in your tone that truly does him in. He was used to the saccharine compliments that seeped like poison from strangers’ mouths, designed to reel in and it never failed to sicken him. But he still found enjoyment in hearing the odd little praises if they came from you. You who had no ulterior motive. Oh, how he knew about the lack of any motives. Truth be told just fifteen minutes ago he had yelled at himself “enough!”. But all the attempts to forget you had boarded a plane, flew to the Himalayas and tossed themselves from the highest peak the moment he glanced at you through the window. Not even he himself quite understood this thing he had for you. What he did know was that he hated matcha latte but never had the heart to correct you so he suffered through it the times that you got it for him. And that was perhaps more of an insight than he could ever explain to others or to himself.
“And to…to suggest drugs? What the fuck is wrong with these people?” you snarl, gripping your coffee cup with pulverising strength, briefly wondering why Jimin winced. Did he not like the coffee? He had never complained before…
“Don’t know,” he replied casually, “I didn’t stick around to ask.”
“That’s good. Are you..are you actually fine, though? Or are you doing your thing of lying to not seem like a burden?”
He smirked mirthlessly.
“I’m actually fine. Dealt with it.”
You leaned back into the chair with a heavy sigh.
“So, how’s Joontill?”
You snort.
“Enjoying the fine Australian weather.”
Jimin frowns in confusion and you mirror his expression.
“They’re in Australia right now?”
“Well, yeah. Namjoon got that internship at Murdoch University. They’re doing some kind of study about the Coral Reef. Tilla is finding herself on a new spiritual journey. Something about crystals.“
More than once, you had looked at Tilla and Namjoon and thought that there were more commonalities between a tiger and a cockatoo than those two. Nevertheless, the two weirdos persisted in their mutual obsession with each other.
“I knew that, it’s just…I was meaning to stay here for a while and they offered me their place to stay until I found my own.”
“Maybe they left you a key in a mailbox or something,” you ponder.
“Oh, yes, truth is indeed stranger than fiction. I’m settling down here. Since I’m not doing runways anymore, I applied for a place in a local fashion and lifestyle magazine. I’m done chasing the glory,” he exhaled snidely, eyes momentarily darkening at what clearly were fractures of some sour memories.
“That’s nice,” you lightly remark, careful not to prod at anything still aching. “What will you be doing?”
“Writing, editing, maybe modelling,” he took a sip of the coffee, flinching again.
He must hate it, so why was he still drinking it?
“Sort of jack-of-all-trades help.”
Both of you agree that it’s a needed start over. Seemingly only minutes pass but then the barista reminds you that they’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.
Dishes of pastries have piled all around and when you look outside, with a stiff neck and even stiffer backside to your surprise the sky has turned dark. Unavoidably, like all good things did, Saturday had come to its inevitable end. The air is fresh and cool outside and your cheeks glisten with unexplainable heat. Jimin stretches with a smile, whining at the sore muscles. The lights of the nearby fruit vendors starkly remind you of Joontill’s wedding night and so, still operating on a basic instinct of speaking first - thinking never, the question rips out of you whilst lingering in each other’s presence.
“Do you still like me?”
Jimin, who was in the middle of saying goodbye, freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. He stands like that for a moment and then smiles as though you were sharing some private joke.
“Yeah,” he laughs. “Yeah, I still do.”
“Scorpio venus,” Tilla enunciated like you were not getting some rudimentary piece of common knowledge. “If he’s making eyes at you, you’re doomed, sis.”
You put the powder brush away with a sigh. All you asked was did she knew why that Jimin guy had been gawking at you at her boyfriend’s party.
“Ain’t your boy-toy the same house?”
“Those are placements, not houses,“ Tilla amended, hanging upside down on the bed, lollipop sticking out of her mouth. "And yes, Joonie -”
“Joonie,” you scoffed.
“- is also Scorpio venus. How do you think I know I’ll get my guts rearranged this night andtomorrow morning?”
You crinkle your nose in disgust.
“Gross.”
“I’ll be going now,” he sighs and it is mind-boggling to you how he does that. Confesses and then proceeds life as normal. Most people would be digging themselves in a ditch, you first and foremost, but not Mr Park. He had told you twice already that he fancied you and then simply left.
You bite discreetly on your lip. What would happen if you would cast everything aside? Take him by the hand and lead away? Well, the thing would be is that he would probably fall out of love the moment you’d fall into it. That’s why there was the term “timing”. Time was a precarious thing and often changed with every passing wind. And you were well aware of how painful it’d be to actually fall in love with Park Jimin. You had been dancing on that edge for years now and as such had tethered nicely to the side of inactivity. Even if you found out that loitering around him in person made you irrationally want to kiss him.
As you part, each walking in your own separate directions, you think of being so sneaky by waiting until the very last second to glimpse back at him. Just once. But as you do, you find that to his credit, Jimin was, as before, already looking.
“Shut the fuck up,” you growl not even bothering to lift your head from the pillow. Tilla doesn’t have to say anything. That smarmy, annoying little face of hers does more than words ever could.
“I did not speak!“ she objects but with a tint of amusement. The weird subject of you and Jimin had entertained her for years with no signs of stopping. Behind her, there sprawls the beautiful vistas of the Australian sea, the sun high in the sky while outside you can perhaps glance at a faint glimmer of stars aimlessly wandering through space.
"Oh, I do wish you would just seize the bull by the horns. Jimin’s fine enough of a stallion and by rumours -”
“Don’t you dare to discuss Jimin’s dick out loud!”
Somewhere outside of the camera comes Namjoon’s grumbling threat. When Tilla points her phone at him, he’s found with a toothbrush lodged in his mouth, tugging his shorts over his ass.
Unfortunately not an unseen sight.
“I’ve got eyes only for you, babe.“
"Liar, liar, tiny thong on fire,” he throws her a stormy glare. “You were thirsting over those surfers all day. I know.”
“Oh, you do? Why don’t you come here and punish me then.”
“Please, I beg of you, there’s only so much vomit I can project!” you interrupt, physically gagging at the unfolding scene.
Tilla merely rolled her eyes and you try not to ponder too much on the fact that judging from the peculiar angle one of her hands must be tied to the bed.
“But back to you, listen, I know it may be hard to believe, only for you of course, but Jimin is still carrying a massive fucking torch for you. If you don’t do anything, that flame will go out.”
“So? Wonderful! I want it to go out!“
Tilla’s eyes soften.
"Babe…”
You shake your head once more.
“No, don’t pity me.“
"I’m not pitying you! It’s just that it’s not really a plan - to move to Alberta, adopt seventeen dogs, go insane one night and then die from hypothermia while streaking outside, after which your dogs feast on your decomposing flesh.”
You regard her with a raised brow.
“Why ever not? I’ve spent my entire life with that plan.“
Tilla sighed leaning back into the pillows. Her wrist was indeed locked in a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs.
“You know you are capable of love, right?”
“I’ve loved you my entire life,“ you are quick to agree.
"And Namjoon.”
“Doubtful.“
Tilla smirks and Namjoon groans somewhere in the distance.
"Know your place, boy-toy,” you bark at him. “I was here first.”
“She was,” Tilla interjects, pointing one solemn finger off the camera. At this point, Namjoon mutters something about “women” and exits stage left.
“You know I’m not saying you should jump Jimin because he’s gorgeous and nice and has the hots for you-”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying.”
“No, well, maybe a little bit, but it’s fine if you reject him because you don’t like him or because you know you won’t regret it. But do you remember Katie?”
Could you ever forget the little wench who’d stolen your purple, fuzz covered purse bedazzled with the words “icon”? It was a vicious and unjust crime that took weeks to get over.
“Do you not regret punching her in the face that day she came to school with your bag?”
Of course, you did. Being a seven-year-old who had not yet hit a growth spurt such as yourself, Katie then seemed so invincible and tall. But now as an adult, having the sage wisdom and knowledge that one famed day you’ll knock out not one, but two dudes of senior class when they tried to pocket your hard-earned money, you deeply mourned the fact that you hadn’t given her the knuckle sandwich that heinous skank clearly deserved.
“My point is, don’t let Jimin be another Katie. You’re so bitter already, god knows, we don’t need you to be any grouchier in your old.”
“Ha ha ha,” you mock her dryly but deep down you knew she was right. It was that mutated, single-celled organism called a brain you both shared like any other friendship that lasted longer than most marriages. “Anyway, I’m surprised you let him stay over. You’re usually so twitchy about anyone touching your stuff.”
Tilla frowned and a sickly squirming feeling rose in your stomach.
“I didn’t? What are you talking about?”
“Jimin said that until he’ll find his own place, he’ll stay at yours. Went to look for the spare key and everything.”
She shot upright in terror.
“Namjoon! NaMJOONIE!”
Immediately, the doors burst open.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Are you alright?!”
“Did we actually say “yes” when Jimin called us about staying over?!“
"I did say "yes”,“ comes his bashful voice. "But I didn’t mean it for him! I meant it for you, considering what we were in the middle of…”
These horny amoebas.
“You picked up the phone when you were having sex?!”
Tilla graciously ignores your outrage.
“Do we have any spare keys?”
“Of course, not. It’s unsafe.”
If group chat messages were true, then Yoongi moved back to Korea three months ago and Hoseok had left across the country to finally finish his degree in contemporary dance, that means -
A ring by the door.
- that you were the only one in the city that Jimin was familiar with.
You and Tilla exchange glances and slowly, annoyingly slowly, upon reaching the same conclusion as you, she blossoms into a broad smirk. When you rip open the door, the phone still in hand, you find Jimin there, knuckles suspended in the air, clearly not expecting the eager welcome.
“So, a funny thing -”
“JIMIN!! HELLO!” comes a scream from down your thigh.
“Oh, hello, Tilla!” he leans down to wave at her, smiling brightly. “You seem to not have left me a spare key, Mrs Kim-Hogen.”
“Uh, yeah,” Tilla glances nervously to the side where no doubt guilty Namjoon was hiding outside the camera. “Well, you know Joon, all butterfingers.”“
"Or skilled fingers. Are those handcuffs I see?”
As he was leaning down, a chain previously tucked underneath Jimin’s shirt falls out. It sways in the air, back and forth and you have this small but really rather intrusive thought. Would it sway like this in your face when he’s on top of you? The thought vanishes with an aggressive shake of the head.
“Why yes, they are,” Tilla purrs. “Whoever said that long-lasting relationships are a drag needs to find themselves a better partner. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Don’t you forget it, angel!”
“Oh, I’m nothing if not a hopeless romantic, Mrs Kim-Hogen,” and with that chain still dangling, he has the absolute gall to look up and meet your gaze. “Just my person’s quite stubborn.”
No. You’re not doing this.
“Okay, well that’s enough of that,“ you huff.
“WAIT NO! There’s so much I want to ask him! What happened to the fashion show? What happened with Mi-Ran? Are you settling dOWN JUST FOR-”
You smack the phone shut, tired of serving as a tripod so these two gossipy bitches could discuss their sexcapades. No, you did not want to hear any of the details of what they both got up to, thank you very much. The thought alone left a sour taste in your mouth. The phone is tossed on the sofa. It bounces back and falls onto the floor.
Naturally.
Jimin crosses his arms behind his back.
“So,” he begins awkwardly.
“So,” you echo.
It’s weird. You’re strangers but not really. You’re sweethearts but not even close. You’re friends but were you?
It’s all so very odd.
“I understand if you don’t want me to crash here but on the off chance, if you say yes, may I ask?”
Smooth. He has engaged the Libra as Tilla would say.
“Yes,” you dumbly answer, without hesitation gripping the door in a panic. You did not just agree to it.
Jimin too seems shocked. His eyes are wide and his mouth is falling slightly open. There’s that crooked tooth again.
“Yes? Wait, yes, as in, I can ask or yes as in…” he exhales a shaky breath. “As in I can stay with you?”
“Yes, you can stay with me,” you drawl. No, that was not what the shards of brain masquerading themselves as an intellect told you to say. You were meant to say that you’re truly sorry and you wish you could but the space is simply too small to allow another person in. But as such you say neither of those words, the sentiment coming from your mouth is quite the opposite.
“You sure?” he clarifies and you roll your eyes.
“Do you want to stay on the street? Because one more -”
“No, no,” Jimin laughs, hastily waving his hands. He’s practically glowing and you turn to look away. “I’d rather stay here, thanks.”
“Well, then, come on in.”
He shuffles inside and you note the lack of baggage. He also didn’t have any in the coffee shop. The only thing he carried was an unassuming shoulder bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Chanel?” you point at it, with an arched eyebrow as he shimmies through the small hallway, trying to shrug his jacket off.
“What? Oh, no, an airport at…Berlin, I think. It’s hard to keep track of all the places I was.” Showoff. “Why Chanel specifically?” he grunts, kicking his shoes off. It’s only by a miracle that you have spare slippers available. They were fuzzy and adorned with large cows but he’ll have to suck it up. To his credit, Jimin doesn’t even bat an eye.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply after a moment. “I just thought that Chanel was your outbreak.”
A teasing smile is back on his face and you turn your back on it, switching on the overhead lamps in the living room.
“Hmm, I wonder how you knew that.”
“…Tilla told me,” you stubbornly refute, peering into your fridge to offer as a snack.
“And not those magazines on the table?”
Your eyes snap to the offending objects, recalling that underneath the odd bill and notebook, there did sit a varied collection of Jimin’s faces. Harper’s Bazaar, L'Officiel Hommes. Pieces he knew you had no interest in. When drunk on a political debate night one night, you’d sparred with Namjoon for about thirty minutes about how journals like these were nothing but laminated drivel and the fact that they were grey was just about the only thing that differentiated them from yellow pages.
“Wrong subscription,“ you brush away and Jimin chuckles while taking in your house.
His eyes are wide and his gaze curious. With a reminiscent smile, he inspects your diplomas, most of which he was there to witness in the audience. You remembered, when you got your honorary diploma, the so-called summa cum laude, after long hours and tears and breakdowns. He had been the loudest to cheer you on. So loud, he, in fact, beat not only your entire family and Tilla combined but also made himself noticeable in the eyes of the university choir’s leader. Your classmates had teased you on and on about what supportive boyfriend you had and you were so happy that day the distinction didn’t seem worth pointing out. Your hands tighten around the fruit plate. Had he…liked you already then? No, impossible! Impossible. Wasn’t he dating someone around that time? Christine? Magnus? Rosa? You couldn’t even recall. The point was, there wasn’t a day in university Jimin’s life that was spent in a bed unwarmed. You smack the plate perhaps a tad harsher on the table than strictly necessary.
Jimin giggles on the side. Despite much of your protests, Tilla had hung up some of the childhood polaroids you both shared, making for rather nostalgic, albeit embarrassing mementos.
"Oh, my God, look at those cheeks,” he coos, pointing at a five-year-old you, wrenched in a tin foil spacesuit. The combined result of watching both E.T. and Back to the Future a day before the “what do you want to be” theme day in the kindergarten.
“And the pigtails! This is gold. I must capture this!” he pulls out his phone and before you can throw something sharp in his direction, the mortifying embarrassment is already stored in his gallery.
“You share that to the group chat and I’ll-”
“-emasculate me?” he finishes. “Yes, I know. I think you’ve threatened to do that over a hundred times and yet here I stand - still endowed.”
“Don’t test your luck, Park,” you growl, arranging the final orange slices. “Any day now. It could happen any day now.”
He snickers and sits down by the table.
“I like your home,“ he says, swaying a bit. "But why is it so small?”
“Oh, I’m trying to save up as much as I can. This place already costs an arm and a leg. Hard to imagine what bigger spaces would rip off.“
Jimin pops a grape in his mouth.
“True.”
“Do you want ramen, perhaps?“
He tilts his head.
"As a food, not as a pickup line,” you threaten him with a knife that was used to cut the oranges. Jimin quickly tugs it aside.
“Sure. I’m just wondering since when did you get so nice? Did you miss me, perhaps?” he clicks his tongue and leans in with a mischievous smile illuminating his face.
“Don’t say nonsense,” you snap back but you did. Just a little tiny bit. Sometimes. On the oddest of days.
While the water boils you get down to business.
“There is only the couch that you can sleep on. It’s a pull-out, but still a little small overall. You’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with a pull out though I much prefer the keep in method,” he wiggles his eyebrows while leaning against the countertop. You push past it.
“As you can see there’s not much to explore. The door on the left there is the bathroom, door on the right just this weird storage space. Any questions?”
“You’ve got a partner?”
You close your eyes and exhale rather dramatically.
“Say goodbye to your penis, Jimin,” you grimly mutter and move towards him with a melon scooper clutched tightly between fingers. He rushes backwards, laughing.
“I’ll take it as a no,” he blurts out, looking too unconcerned for someone whose life hinged on the kindness of your rotten soul. “It’s just so I would know what to do if someone rushes here while I’m there naked on the sofa.”
The water boils and you pour the packet into it, stirring absent-mindedly with Jimin’s eyes locked on the back of your skull.
“And, of course, so I would know whether or not I’m free to seduce you.”
You drop the seasoning into the water.
“What makes you think you can seduce me?” you casually reply, fishing out the plastic. “It hasn’t worked in all the years we’ve known each other.”
He crosses his palms underneath the chin, appearing for a second misleadingly angelic.
“Yes, but I wasn’t really trying then. All in all, it’s getting quite pathetic on my end to pine you after all these years."
It’s just the steam from the pot, it’s just the steam from the pot, that’s why my face is so warm, you tell yourself.
"So I’ll take this opportunity to be straightforward with you.”
You really didn’t need for him to be any more straightforward. He already confessed - twice! - what was there even left to do?
“And if you’re not my girlfriend/my wife/my fiance by the end of this, I guess…" he trails off into silence. The humour in his voice had drained and you find yourself fearing the end of that sentence. As much as you would prefer Jimin not to waste his time on you, ultimately and with no little amount of heinous selfishness it would still sting to have these feelings be lost. You let out a small groan.
Make up your mind woman, you scold yourself, let him go if he wants to go. Yes, it’s for the best. You and Jimin were simply incompatible. Worse than being two opposite magnets, you were brown and he was blue, mixing them together would just make a sludge, a neither that nor this colour which was both dull and unusable for any self-respecting artwork. Some people could be the opposite and meshed well, green and blue, Tilla and Namjoon, some, you and Jimin, was a no go.
As you’re weighing the matter in your own metaphors, you don’t notice that Jimin never actually finished the sentence. The threat was largely only reserved for himself. “I guess, I’ll leave you alone.” But he never had the guts to say it out loud, scared that it would come true if he did.
Your eyes droop dangerously low. You and Jimin had made him a place to sleep, using decorative pillows and extra fleece blankets for now. He told you that his stuff was still being shipped. He had washed the dishes while you made a quick run to the store to get him some toiletries. He was given his towel and the apartment was coated in the small glow of the living room lamp. Quiet music was swimming through. Jimin said that he’ll turn it off. It was strange to have him here. To have anyone here. The second Tilla and Namjoon had gotten married, her absence gradually grew more and more until now she was in Australia. It was unusual, but you found that you didn’t mind it just yet.
“Hey, __________,” Jimin whispered and your ears naturally perked at the sound of his voice, all the way from your lofted bed.
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t….don’t believe too much what these papers say about me.”
There was a hint of frailty in his tone and you’re once again brought to the fact of how horrible these last few years had been for him. The times that he appeared in yellow pages were not tremendous in the count, but there was never a single good entry. Just the clubs, the arrest, the reckless spending and driving and so forth.
“Don’t worry,” you murmur back, eyes closing. “I never did.”
At first, Sunday comes like it had a thousand times before - lazy with sleep weighted eyes, the gnawing realisation that the fun is halfway over. Tomorrow is Monday and it’s just hours, once again hoursaway from Doing The Labour. It’s exhausting to Do The Labour. As you pull a pillow over your head, scoffing at the sunlight streaming through the window, you whine to yourself - you don’t want to Do The Labour. But the hunger grumbling in your stomach is a stern reminder that you have to, want to or not. You lift your head up, groggy and squinting in the pouring light. You stretch, something cracks, and there’s a persistent, mysterious ache somewhere in your back. Adulthood. But as you climb down, opening the window to let in the fresh, morning air, you glimpse at Jimin sleeping on the sofa. Dark hair messy on the pillow, soft snores rising from his open mouth.
The gust of morning breeze rips through the curtains and he shivers, instinctively pulling the blanket nearly up to his ears to protect himself from the unwanted elements. You smile and then for the first time in a very long time you allow yourself to sit and simply gaze into the city. Dogs and their sleep weary owners trudged in and out of the park, runners in their never-ending mission to make everyone else feel lazy took laps amidst the freshly opened shops, half-abandoned construction and the occasional stray cat. Together and separate - the life of a city.
And when Jimin wakes much has changed and yet nothing really. The Sunday like many before this one is spent quietly, with a nameless, bright cartoon in the background, coffee made, and yoghurt to be enjoyed. Despite what your fears always insisted, it’s actually quite simple. You’re still you and he’s still him and you’re both here in this small apartment, on this lazy Sunday morning because you want to be here. It’s just that simple.
As Jimin shuffles over, still partially sinking into slumber, you quickly delved into a bowl of non-sugar non-fat diet no-additive greek yoghurt just not before throwing a handful of strawberries and half a pack of chocolate chips.
Jimin smiles over his cup of coffee.
“I like to eat healthily,” you establish, shaking the very last of the chips into the bowl.
“I can see that,” he bites his lip to not laugh and the chain around his neck dangles in the air as he reaches down to lay a light kiss on the side of your cheek.
Genre:romance; fluff; boyfriend!yoongi x girlfriend!reader.
Warnings:brief hints of insecurity; reader’s necklace is pulled; loss of breath.
Yoongi loved nothing more than to see you wrapped in the jewelry he gifted you with.
He adored the twinkle of your eyes that his lavish presents granted him with, and the sweet pecks of thanks you placed to his lips despite how your words seeped between his lips in every kiss, to scold him for spoiling you.
He cherished every teasing graze of his fingertips over your flesh as he clasped the glimmering trinket around your wrist or throat, just to admire the shivers of your body at the mere notion of his touch.
And when your glistening pendant dangled above his chocolate eyes, mesmerizing him as you perched yourself upon his lap and dipped your lips into his, he was simply taken by you.
But it was the moments such as these when he adorned your body with his shimmering presents, he adored most of all; how your irises would reflect their twinkle whilst you admired his gifts within his arms before you hastily pleaded for his deft fingers to place it over your body.
With a gentle laugh, his fingertips would delicately trace the golden threads that glistened under his wanting gaze, as his plush lips greedily absumed the flesh of your nape, the glittering diamonds he bathed you within enticing him to leave not a mere inch of space between your bodies.
A soft gasp would fall from your lips to cut through your reprimands as his lithe fingers tangled themselves within the silvery chains that delicately traced the column of your throat; just to pull you into his chest, whilst bringing your eyes into his own in the waning space.
The glittering trinket that dripped over his fingers tips would whelve into the soft flesh of your clavicle with every curl of his hands, to draw you deeper into his embrace where your lips would meet his as if a golden tie between your souls.
“Have I let you forget already? You are my treasure,” he would whisper with a tender tug to the chain that clung to your neck, beckoning you closer than before until his pink lips grazed yours as he spoke, “you’re mine to cherish, to love and to protect.”
The heat of his lips would burn against yours as every word would create a delectable friction, that was far more priceless than golden rings; the mere contact with your love would make you greedy for so much more of him than the diamonds he dripped over your flesh, you would covet his kiss, his touch, his love- him.
His dark lashes that kissed the tops of your cheeks would certainly flutter your weakened heart whilst he teased you with his kiss, but he would always be just out of your reach as he chuckled softly at your pleadings.
“I suppose I have to remind you just how priceless you are to me.” He would smirk, his heart waltzing in anticipation of confessing to you of his love in every way he knew how.
With a mere twirl of his fingers, he would take the breath from your lungs as his slender fingers knotted themselves within the delicate pendant you wore, to pull you deeper into his love, he would forever tether your heart to his with a golden thread, and it’s hold would never be broken.
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; idiots to lovers; college au; oblivious!roommate!jungkook x female!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of fear; brief mention of nausea; dizziness; pining.
Jungkook was oblivious, almost painfully so.
He was excruciatingly blind to the fond words of every sticky note you placed to his mirror wishing him a wonderful day,
And his ears were torturously deaf to the sweet whispers you murmured into each cuddle session you held at his place that he most likely shouldn’t have overheard.
The flutter of his heart that alighted his chest at the mere trace of your fragrance was overlooked as no more than excitement for your next adventure, and the rosy hue that spread over his cheeks with every kiss you pressed to them was assumed to be a faulty heater.
Even the gentle reveries of kissing your lips or the wonders of how your hair felt around his finger was written off as a mere phase.
Because everyone falls a little in love with their best friend at least once, right?
All of this being why Jungkook gave no second thoughts to your eager persistence to make a filling breakfast together before you classes started, as a team, as friends, rather than allowing him to sneak to the nearest bakery and snag a breakfast burrito that was almost too much to stomach this early in the morning.
Because you shared a home, definitely not because you cared for him.
It was simply routine for him to stare at your features from afar as the warm, morning light accentuated the shape of your face, as you carried out whatever your mind was set to, seemingly unbothered by his blatant admiration, that is until your voice broke him from his focus.
“I love spending time with you, Koo.”
His eyes ascended from the comically large mitts that covered your hands to peer into your own that were already awaiting his.
“I wouldn’t mind spending every morning with you.” His pulse quickened once more at your words but the fact was discarded in the very same breath he took in to answer.
“That’s what friends are for, I’d love to share my mornings with you too.”
He smiled innocently before it quickly faded once he witnessed how the corners of your lips fell, though he remained ignorant of the cause of your change.
Despite your valiant attempt to break through Jungkook’s friendzone to atleast make your feelings known, your lingering glances that remained upon his for a second too long was accepted as nothing significant, just as your hesitance to release his fingers from your grasp as you guided his hands around the whisk was no more than apricity.
Every blantant hint you dropped went unnoticed until you all but shouted to the whole campus of your love. His oblivion of today growing even more tiring than the years you practically confessed to him daily with no response.
Your thoughts of the future dizzied your head until merely thinking of bearing another day by his side without knowing if he returned your love in full physically hurt as you bothed danced around the other in the kitchen.
But you decided you had nothing else but to take matters into your own hands.
So once the familiar heat of his presence stood behind you, you turned upon your heel to effortlessly exchange your positions, his hip pressing into the corner of the counter with every step you took closer.
But just as your eyes locked upon his, they strayed over his features that always tugged your attention back to him, no matter where you found yourself, and your heart faltered in your plan, his perfection drowning your confidence.
Jungkook was the epitome of what humanity wished to be, he was what artists strived in vain to capture, from his dark lashes and his pretty lips to the barely noticeable freckle just below them. He was perfect in your eyes.
“I have something to tell you.”
The words breathlessly spilled into the air between your tightly pressed bodies, as if a cherished secret only ever to be heard by the one who captured your heart.
Your heart slammed against your chest and into his own, but you didn’t have a care in the world, you needed this release.
You drew in a deep breath in one last desperate attempt to settle your nerves and soothe the butterflies he placed within your stomach, before it all spilled out.
“Jungkook, I love you.”
The words slipped past your lips, never to be taken back again now they pierced the air and met his ears. Silence fell over you both as niether dared to answer nor follow up with the weighted confession.
You stared up into his blank expression with the wonders you harbored for more than two decades, still awaiting an answer that manifested itself as a mere furrow of his brows.
You nibbled lightly on the insides of your cheeks as your mind returned to the negatives of your confession, as you waited for the painful sting of rejection or a nervous laugh that churned your stomach.
His lips parted to speak and you winced in anticipation of his next words, but a scoff never came- but rather something you should have predicted.
“Like, more than a friend or?”
Your eyes rounded into spheres as you stared up into his sincere expression, dumbfounded by your clueless love, your eyelid twitching slightly.
He was still so lost with his feelings for his childhood friend, he never wanted to ruin what he did have with you, all for a kiss or the title of a boyfriend, only to lose you in the end. Until you showed him.
You reached to gently dip your fingers into the flawless canvas of his features to cup his cheek within your hands as you rose to the tips of your toes to gently graze his inviting lips with yours.
You could hear your pulse within your ears whilst your fingertips tingled as you kissed your best friend, as a potential lover, that waited for his response.
“I like you a lot more than a friend, dummy.” You whispered, pulling back just a bit to simply admire him once more, just in case he would never be yours to adore again.
Your eyes fell to his lips that were much warmer and sweeter than you expected, even in the fleeting taste you had, to witness your favorite bunny smile of his grace the dewy flesh.
His strong arms which you cuddled into so many nights and ran to for comfort in every drizzly day wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest, without an inch of space separating you.
“I like you too.” He confessed at last, and your eyes nearly spilled over with tears, he was finally yours.
His lips met yours as the tip of his nose grazed your cheek with every sweeping of his tongue, and your breath lathed over his skin to elicit goosebumps.
Your fingers reached to thread through the tousled strands of his hair as your bodies pleaded to come closer, as it just felt right.
And once the timer of the oven startled you within his arms and you both parted, breathless with a smile upon your lips, you only hoped Jungkook caught the hint, you liked him much more than a friend.
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; boyfriend!namjoon x girlfriend!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of insecurity.
Namjoon’s hands were your haven.
And you were simply entranced by them, from the meticulous sculpt of his slim fingers that rivaled the finest art pieces to how they entangled with your own so perfectly.
You loved nothing more than to simply admire them from afar, but once your eyes delved into the perfectly sculpted crevices and nooks of his appendages, little else mattered.
And though they often brought graceless destruction to so much around him, there was no place you felt was safer than when your hands intertwined with his. And when his thumb tenderly rubbed soothing shapes into your palm, there was nothing that could touch you.
So you loved to merely touch them at all times, and every opportunity to hold them within your own was never overlooked; much to your shy boyfriend’s dismay.
Even now, as your own hands delicately played with his lithe fingers, not even the glittering Cosmos could capture your attention.
The image of his deft fingers curling around his fountain pen as he wrote whatever lyrics he conjured was almost far too tempting to merely forget, which resulted in your thievery of his limbs.
It was only once the twinkle of your eyes faded from your lover’s view did he care for your play as you placed your palm against his, seemingly comparing the two.
“What’s wrong, little peach?” His voice spilled from his lips like a soothing tea, waiting to warm and comfort you after a long day.
Your brows furrowed as your fingers hesitantly slipped from his own and a soft sigh pushed past your lips. “Nothing.”
A frown fell upon his dewy lips whilst his broad hands pulled away from your grasp just to wrap around your own that hid from him within your sleeves.
“I know when somethings bothering you, peach. Don’t lie to me.”
Though his demands were delicate to your ears, you winced at his soft whispers, you hated it when his voice gently delved into the soft tone that made you want to open your whole heart to him, and never twist the truth in the slightest.
Namjoon was much like a truth serum, the softest moments with him could easily pour the truth from your lips, without much of an effort from your boyfriend.
“It’s just so stupid, but I’ve been thinking about our hands.” You awkwardly confessed only for a wordless nod and a gentle smile from your boyfriend, that urged you to tell him all that troubled you.
“And how beautiful yours are- just like the rest of you,” you gestured to his strong body, before a quiescent chuckle bubbled from him just to flutter your heart before he beckoned you into his lap, “and mine just don’t feel worthy.”
His strong arms tangled around your waist whilst his nose tenderly traced your cheek, and his fingers you adored so much filled the empty spaces between your own.
“Nothing from you will ever be stupid to me.” He assured you, tapping the tip of your nose with his fingers before he brought your hands between your chests.
“And you should know these are so beautiful.”
He praised ever so softly, as if a breath would shatter the hands his fingertips grazed, before he carefully pressed his lips to your smallest finger and dipped his lips to next, he kissed every imperfection and blemish ten times before repeating his soft kisses ten times more.
Once he drew his velvety lips from the back from your hands, the warmth he placed within your belly burned along with your curiosity.
“Why?”
His head fell back just enough to look into your eyes as his hands rested upon the small of your back and hips, as goosebumps followed the path of his fingers along your spine.
“Because each one of them are yours.” He stated, as if it were an answer so clear, written within classic literature as a fact of life, and you were baffled at just how perfect he was to you.
Your lips parted in the stunned silence he hushed you with, unable to comprehend an answer to his beautiful comforts; but you hadn’t need to say anything at all for him interlace his hands with yours, to emphasize just how immaculately they joined together.
“If they weren’t, they could never fit so perfectly with mine.” He whispered, his eyes never leaving your tangled fingers until his twinkling eyes looked into yours.
“Everything about you is perfect for me, little peach.”
Perhaps it was the sincerity of his eyes locked upon yours, or how his hand that wasn’t wrapped so tightly within your own gently tucked your hair behind your ear, but you were far too wrought with his words to form your own.
So you did all you knew to do, you wordlessly mashed your lips into his own that had simply been pleading with you to kiss them at last.
The hold he had upon your hand tightened as his other hand cupped your cheek with a gentleness you could only expect from Namjoon, as he sweetly returned your shy kisses.
He gave you all of his understanding and love until your fears were irrelevant, all the while your hand remained tightly enclosed within his.
Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you’ve done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.
Rating:18+
Warnings:semi-public sex, breast play, fingering, dirty talk (hypothetical cum play, possessiveness), spanking, multiple orgasms, somewhat rough sex
TW:descriptions of past emotional abuse (gaslighting, manipulation, coercion), angst (!)
Word Count: 12,479
Author’s Note: links to be updated at a later date!
Five years is a long time to hold a grudge, but YN has vowed that she will never forgive Kim Seokjin for what he did. But when he unexpectedly returns to her life, YN begins to realise that maybe not everything is as simple as it seems.
Pairings:Jeon Jungkook x Reader (ft. the rest of BTS)
Genre:Science Fantasy, Angst, Apocalypse Au
Words:7K
Description:…and so they just meet each other in these stories written inside these worlds built in their minds. Of course some will be sad, and others happy, but that’s just the way the universe is…chaotic, imperfect, but magnificently beautiful.
You’ll always remember his eyes, a pair of dark obsidian orbs, cloudy and unreadable to many but to you they were always crystal clear like the polycrystalline structure of black diamonds.
“Hurry, we need to go!” He beckons urgently as you remained huddled in the corner of your bedroom closet, arms wrapped around your legs and chin resting on the caps of your knees.
“Where’s mommy and daddy?” You peer up at your older brother, eyes wide and stricken with fear.
It was already dark outside. The bright glow of blue and red lights flicker through the glass windows, ricocheting off the walls of the room your parents once read you bedtime stories in. You can hear the voices of police officers and military personnel through the loud speakers, advising everyone to evacuate the city.
“They’re waiting for us, come on.” Yoongi responds more softly, flashing you a tender smile, one that you have witnessed more than anyone else, giving you more than enough strength to latch on to his extended hand.
You were just nine years old when news of the first outbreak was broadcasted over the television. At the time, it had not occurred to you how strange it all was, or perhaps it did, but it was all too confusing to even begin questioning any of it. You knew nothing about viruses or the spread of diseases in general, but after moving to the designated “safe haven” for your district and continuing your education through your teens, some things have naturally come to light.
Like back in high school chemistry, when your teacher demonstrated the effects of acid on protein to show students how you could go blind if it got in your eye. It was simply to remind everyone to wear goggles, but you’ll never forget the way the drop of HCl seared the egg white, making the fluid bubble up and solidify instantly. You imagine the virus doing the same to human flesh, only with a more complicated mechanism that had less to do with altering the structure of existing proteins and more to do with actually changing gene expression.
It only takes one person. One mutation. One strand of viral DNA to contaminate it all.
It almost sounded too easy, and though the official announcement stated the virus originated in the jungle off the coast, countless people had suspected it was actually developed by the government, a biological weapon gone awry. It wasn’t until over a decade later that it became quite clear, though still unofficial since the elite would never admit to such a horrendous act publicly, that everything was more or less planned as a means to control the population.
So no, the virus did not entail the end of the world. The world government had actually done a pretty job controlling it. How could they not since they planned it all anyways? But of course, if the world wants to end, it’ll find a way to end.
That, you had also learned through a news broadcast.
“Karma” Hoseok exhales, twisting the key and turning off the engine.
“Hoseok, it’s not Karma if the top 1% still survive.” Yoongi mumbles, stepping out of the passenger door and stretching out his back.
“The biggest fuck you would be if the comet just disintegrates right before it strikes.” Hoseok scoffs. “If only…”
You ponder the possibility of this all being a false positive. “Maybe it’ll miss Earth, and everyone will have evacuated the planet for no reason at all.” It’s a joke, but not the funny kind. You know it’s impossible, but you didn’t really say it for the purpose of anyone agreeing with you or even refuting the statement, considering the nonexistent possibility.
“Maybe…” Hoseok exhales, not entirely paying attention to what he was even responding to but rather just blankly gazing at the open field with its tall grasses swaying in the wind.
Yoongi remains silent. He has been the whole trip for the most part, and in a way, his nonchalance was peaceful and reassuring as it had always been for you growing up.
But this is it. This is where you part ways.
It’s a strange feeling, really. You’ve always imagined this moment to be more emotionally overwhelming, saying goodbye to your brother forever and all. He was the only person you’d ever really trusted, and the only other person who has felt like the closest thing to home, a place that never really existed, and even if it did, it won’t for long. Maybe habituation, or months of convinced acceptance has left you numb, or maybe it’s the effect of building something so much up in your head that the actual experience doesn’t live up to what you’ve expected all this time.
“Are you sure?” Yoongi’s voice is low and subdued. He doesn’t make eye contact as he awaits your response, and perhaps it’s because he’s never questioned your personal decisions or the fact that he’s directly expressing his concern for you that you find yourself hesitating for the first time in months.
Did he invite you on this trip hoping you would change your mind in the end?
The thought makes your heart clench, and you have to tell yourself you’re overanalyzing. Yoongi wasn’t the kind to hint at what he wanted. He always directly expressed his thoughts no matter how offensive or uncalled for they are. You’ve always admired him for that sort of bravery, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to change now. Besides, you had made up your mind half a year ago, ever since you saw the timer flash across the T.V. screen.
Six months was how long they gave the general population to decide. Either you were rich enough to leave earth or you had to come to terms with the end. They had known about it years in advance, and though it’s unclear whether or not the planned viral outbreak was related to the detection of the comet’s trajectory, what’s undeniable is that they had kept everyone in the dark to avoid chaos.
You had no interest in space, nor did you want to be a part of a system so cruel. Yoongi didn’t either, not initially, but you weren’t going to blame him for meeting a boy who was the literal manifestation of the sun, someone who could make his heart beat in ways it never did.
“Your spot will always be open” Hoseok chimes in with his bright sunshine of a smile, and you can almost feel a fraction of what Yoongi feels when he sees it too.
“There’s more I want to see before it’s too late.” It’s not like you were alone. There were millions of other people staying on the planet- those who couldn’t afford a ticket on the escape ship.
Yoongi nods lightly, turning to walk up the steps to join Hoseok, who was already at the top still looking at you standing below, perhaps also hoping you would change your mind. Even now, you can see the softness in the latter’s eyes, the tangibility of the warmth that he radiates, and you have no trouble understanding why your bother fell for him.
And that’s the last image you see of the two. Hoseok’s melancholic gaze and the slight upturn of Yoongi’s lip as the doors close.
…
There’s a certain kind of calmness that accompanies solitude, even when the entire world is ready to burst under suppressed chaos. There’s also a strange detachment that comes with wanting to do everything while at the same time not wanting to do anything at all because none of it mattered anymore.
Stepping onto the train, you immediately get a whiff of the stench of sweat and body odor, the kind that tells you you’re not the only one who thought spending the next few days just gazing at the world was a good way to ride through the end. Most of the seats were taken, homeless people with all their bags large and small, scattered across the floor. You almost trip on someone’s sleeping bag as you navigate down the aisle, looking for a less crowded cart, which you are fortunate enough to find just as the train begins to move.
Settling down in the seat closest to the window, you momentarily let your eyes dwell on someone sitting a couple seats away. His attention was focused on the scenery outside, but he somehow sensed the weight of your scrutiny as he turns just as you were about to lean to get a better view.
You barely avert your gaze before he catches you staring, though you’re pretty sure he noticed because the next thing you know, he’s made his way over and is now seated across from you. Despite the sudden proximity and the bout of nerves it has initiated, you choose to keep your attention pointed at the passing scenery now zipping by in parallel with the train’s increasing speed.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” His voice is light with a deep, husky undertone that glides through the air.
You look up to find that he isn’t even looking out the window. You swallow, finding it bizarre that he’s staring at you so intently. “Indeed.”
“Traveling?”
You nod.
“Going anywhere in particular?” He tilts his head curiously; a motion almost child-like in nature and it makes you relax for the first time since you started this solo venture.
“Nope.”
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “So your plan was to just sit on this train and look out the window?”
“Pretty much, yeah” You shrug, sensing your anxieties dissipate as he does not seem to pose a threat of any kind.
He chuckles softly. “But don’t you want to go out there and really feel the earth. Really experience being alive on this planet one last time?”
“It’s dangerous.”
“It’s the end of the world. What do you have to lose?”
He was right, and your excuses don’t even sound convincing to yourself anymore.
“So what exactly are you proposing?”
“This train loops around the entire continent. I say we get off at each stop and do one thing we’ve always wanted to do.”
“We?” You’re thrown off by how easily he placed the word in his sentence. How he didn’t even hesitate to include you in his spur of the moment proposal.
He nods.
“Together?” You ask again, still skeptical.
He laughs softly; looking down and back up again with a playful smirk.
“What if we want to do different things?” You counter, still unsure why you are playing along with this stranger who hasn’t even introduced himself.
“Ok. We’ll get off at each stop and do one thing you’vealways wanted to do.”
“You’re sure putting a lot of bets on someone you don’t even know.” You comment, waiting to see how he’s going to react.
There’s a peculiar look in his eyes, one that speaks of anticipation precipitously lost to the wind. He drops his gaze momentarily, smiling to himself before looking up at you once more.
“Or you could say I’m going all in on someone I would like to get to know.” There’s cheerfulness in his voice that you haven’t heard in a long time, an unfamiliar yet heart racing aura of beginnings rather than the familiar imminent end that has surrounded your life for months. It makes you smile, but you can’t help but notice the sad glint in his eyes merely seconds before it’s gone.
“I…actually haven’t really thought about what I want to do.” You confess, diverting your attention to the landscape outside. Your life had always been planned. Whether it was wandering down paths that others had led you towards or the world leaving you no alternative option, you had never been offered the freedom of uninhibited choice. It was like the events had already been written, and you were just living it out like a character in a story everyone already knows the end to.
“Maybe you shouldn’t think about it.” His voice startles you, making you realize you had paused mid conversation.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve found that overthinking leads to indecisiveness.” He tilts his head, analyzing your reaction as if waiting for a specific response.
“I’m not indecisive, and I don’t overthink.” You deny, despite knowing full well you are and have always been.
He doesn’t look convinced. “Ok, then you’re afraid of regrets?”
“I’m just…I dunno…scared?”
He nods, displaying that he understands what you mean. “But you are here now, so you must’ve found some source of courage.”
You wouldn’t really consider your decision to stay on earth courageous. To you it was more like the final act of rebellion you had the chance of carrying out, not that you ever came close to rebelling in the past.
“Well?” The train has stopped, and you can tell he’s waiting for you to decide to get off with him or not.
It’s not forceful or pressuring in anyway, but communicates an air of patience you find to be very comforting. And there’s something about the way he speaks to you, the way he gauges your response as if he already knows what you’re about to say that inclines you to believe he knows more about you than logically possible for someone you just met. Maybe you were just easy to read, or this guy is just really good at reading social cues. Whatever it may be, you had two seconds to make your decision, and if the past has taught you anything, you already know that there’s no turning back.
…
Getting off the train, you’re surprised by the number of people still around and the cultural music dancing through the air. You expected the city to be less crowded and the mood to be more somber, a scene that makes the end of the world more obvious, in what way you weren’t sure, but definitely nothing close to what you were currently presented.
“They’re just here, like us, enjoying these last days.” He blinks slowly, somehow able to tell that the scene has left you dumbfounded.
“I guess I just expected something different” You reply, still looking around at the people laughing and chatting away in the outdoor seating areas of restaurants and coffee shops.
“Only 1% of the population left, and most of them probably didn’t live in old towns like this.” He glances at you from under the sunhat he had put on right after exiting the train.
His response puts a smile on your face. A picture of a smiling Hoseok and Yoongi flashes through your mind as you are remembered how they spoke about the privileged. It had been a long time since your mood has felt this light.
“So are you going to properly introduce yourself? Or am I going to have to ask you questions?” You narrow your eyes, feeling mischievous all of a sudden.
He laughs, eyes crinkling at the edges again. “It’s the end of the world. I could tell you anything and it wouldn’t even matter.” He skips a few feet ahead of you before twirling around and offering you his hand.
You’re surprised by your own lack of hesitation as you reach out almost instinctively.
“Wow, that was easier than expected.” He comments, referring to how quickly you accepted his offer compared to your obvious indecision back on the train, eyes almost wide as he gives your hand a light squeeze, making sure that it was indeed real, and his eyes weren’t just playing tricks on him.
“It’s the end of the world.” You shrug, repeating the words he had been reiterating since the two of you met. An unfamiliar fullness engulfs your heart, and you wonder if the boy next to you feels it too. You don’t remember the last time you had held someone’s hand like this or if you had ever held a hand that fit to yours so perfectly.
“Jungkook.” He suddenly breathes out, probably noticing the way you’ve been staring at your interlinked hands like he would suddenly let go or disappear into thin air.
“Huh?” You look up almost dazed.
“My name. It’s Jungkook.” He smiles, gripping your hand a bit tighter.
“Oh, um, I’m Y/N.” You response almost awkwardly, unprepared for his sudden revelation of sorts, trying to recall why the name seemed familiar while at the same time knowing with the utmost certainty you had never known a person with that name.
He bobs, the expression on his face making you almost suspect that this wasn’t new information to him.
“So what would you like to do, Miss Y/N?” He gestures at the completely foreign town, the lake and mountains not too far in the distance.
“I don’t know.” You reveal truthfully, not having thought this far yet. You were kind of just banking on intuition, but you were so caught up analyzing him along with your own shifting disposition that you hadn’t actually thought about the actual world and what you wanted to do. “With the virus and all, I had never made a bucket list or anything. I just assumed I would never get a chance to come to places like this anyways.”
“Even when it was nearly eradicated?”
“Then came this whole comet ordeal.” You sigh. “End of the world, remember?”
“Not like I could forget.” He starts swinging your interlinked arms causally. “Shall we just walk around then? Explore some abandoned buildings that may or may not be haunted.”
“You can’t seriously believe in ghosts, can you?” You cock a brow. “In this day and age?”
He cackles. “I was just testing you.”
“Sure you were” You flash him the look, but it doesn’t last before you’re consumed by his contagious laughter.
It wasn’t long before the two of you stumble upon a rather decent looking lodging facility, not that you were looking for anything fancy. The walls were made of stone, a suitable complement to the cobblestone roads you had been walking along since leaving the train station, with ivy crawling up the sides and lining the windows. The building gave off the impression that it was an affordable choice for two broke travelers, not that money really mattered anymore.
“We should probably put some of our stuff down and explore the city.” Jungkook suggests, looking up from the map on his phone.
You exhale slowly, almost having forgotten how heavy your backpack weighed on your shoulders. The sun had moved to the middle of the sky, causing beads of sweat to form and start sliding down your forehead. It wasn’t extremely hot, but you had opted to wear a few extra layers in an attempt to keep your bags a bit lighter.
Following him into the lobby, you don’t expect Jungkook to arrange a room for you as well, but he comes back with two keys to two separate rooms.
“Thanks” You voice softly as hands one of them to you.
“It would probably be safer to stay in the same room, but I don’t want you to think I’m some perverted stalker trying to take advantage of you.”
You smirk before failing to contain your own laughter. “I already assumed you were.”
He rolls his eyes. “Just let me know if you need anything, ok?”
You nod, glancing at him one last time before heading towards your room. He seemed concerned, or his mind was thinking about something else.
The room smelled moist and musky, with an almost rotten scent, like it hadn’t been cleaned in quite some time. Not that you were expecting some pristine hotel room or sterilized classroom like the facilities back in the cities during the viral outbreak, but it was pretty clear the place hadn’t been tidied in weeks. The bed sheets were unwashed, and the trash bins hadn’t even been emptied.
You walk over to open a window, hoping the air outside would somehow neutralize the pungent odor. Just as you were contemplating going over to suggest exploring the markets, you hear a knock at your door.
“Who is it?” You call out, hoping that it was just Jungkook coming back to check up on you.
There’s no answer, but you can hear the pounding get louder, like whoever was on the other side was trying to break down the door. There’s a loud crack as the wooden door pane splinters, the rusty knob just falling off and rolling across the floor. You’re frozen in place, eyes full of fear as you stare at the large man standing at the entrance.
He slowly walks towards you with a frown on his face, blocking your view of the hallway and only escape.
Before you could scream, you hear a loud bang and the next thing you know, the man was on the ground. Your eyes immediately dart up and to your uttermost relief, you see Jungkook with a lamp clasped in his hand, eyes wide with alarm.
“We need to get out of here” He exhales, quickly grabbing your hand and making a run for it.
You don’t get a chance to look back, all you can focus on is keeping up with Jungkook’s speed as he leads you back out to the street and navigates through the crowds of people.
“Wha-how did you…?” You look at him and back in the direction the two of you ran from, mind still reeling from the hasty course of events.
“It was my bad really, I should’ve know most places aren’t safe anymore.” He shakes his head, looking around at the people still gathered in large crowds when you’re finally at a safe distance from the lodge. “Maybe that’s why everyone is here out in the open.”
“Hey, it’s ok, we’re fine and there’s only like three weeks left anyways” You give his hand a tight squeeze, unsure of why you felt so compelled to make him feel better. Perhaps it was the sadness in his eyes, something you can’t seem to ignore because it looked so familiar yet you’re unable to comprehend it fully.
He sighs. “Three weeks…are you the type who prefers to count down?”
You want to forget about it, to not be constantly reminded that the world you once knew is gone and these last moments will soon be swallowed in the same way. But no matter how hard you try to ignore the thought, it’s always there at the back of your mind, a subconscious countdown that keeps showing up intermittently.
“I just want to be as prepared as possible, and I don’t like surprises.”
“Somehow that’s not so surprising.” He smiles for the first time in a while, and you don’t miss the hint of playfulness in his words. It’s reassuring and quells some of your anxiety.
“You don’t seem to mind this whole ordeal.” You suddenly blurt out. Ever since you met this dark haired doe-eyed Jungkook, he’s seemed so…okay with everything, like the end of the world was some kind of adventure and not a dark and dreary end to existence.
He cocks a brow. “Almost getting us into some deep shit back there?”
“No, the fact that we have three weeks left, and then it’s over.” You exhale, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in for so long and finally feeling that weight being lifted off your chest.
His features relax as he turns to face you. “I’m looking forward to what lies beyond the end and in the meantime, making the most of what we are given now.”
You don’t quite understand what he means, and there are so many questions you want to ask, but the determined look in his eyes makes you wonder if you’re missing something deeper, something he wants to convey but is waiting for you to reach your own conclusion.
“Beyond the end?”
He chuckles lightly. “Like how people say endings give birth to new beginnings?”
“You sound like my mom.” You huff, knowing that he’s just playing around again and avoiding the real answer to your question.
“Do you miss her?” He suddenly asks.
“She was never really around much. Neither was my dad.” There’s an extended pause as Jungkook waits for you to continue, almost like he senses there’s more you want to say. “My brother Yoongi was my rock, the only person in my life that I could turn towards for guidance like an actual parental figure. My parents were loving and all, but being adopted, they were just nice picture parents. They didn’t offer me the kind of depth I needed. And my brother, you know, was older and I’m sure he didn’t think much of it at the time, but his advice was something I always took seriously, whether it was subconscious or not. His opinions impacted a lot of my decisions in life…” You trail off, thinking back to all the decisions you had made because Yoongi had expressed some form of bias towards it and still question to this day if they were the right ones. It’s not like you had that many regrets, but you can’t help but wonder if your life would’ve turned out differently had you made more choices independently. “You know I could’ve just said fuck it and did the thing I actually wanted to do.”
“Well, here’s your chance.”
…
The two of you decide that the safest place to sleep is the train.
Though it was often crowded and smelled of human sweat, it was still better than figuring how to set up a tent or having to climb a tree. And after the incident at the lodge, neither of you really wanted to risk it again. Besides, spending one or two days in one city is more than enough to grab some local food and do some sightseeing. You also realize that all of the towns sort of start blending into one another, like the days you’re still trying not to countdown. You’ve gotten to the point where it doesn’t bother you as much, at least not when you’re with traveling with someone you’ve grown too fond of too quickly, but in the best way ever.
“I guess I really didn’t think any of this through, but none of it really matters now, does it?”
You were trailing behind him in the orchard, the sun’s rays filtering through the leaves casting moving patterns on the ground. Spending the past few days visiting gardens and vineyards had been more fun than you had expected. The fruit was sweet and the flowers were bright and lively. Each farm you visited looked to stretch on for miles and miles, twisting and twirling along the hills and rivers. You had always been told that beauty existed in the most unexpected of places, and you were finally given the chance to witness it for yourself.
“You know there’s no point in living every day thinking about the fact that you’re going to die anyways.” He takes a bite of the apple he just picked off of one of the lower branches of the tree. The sound so crisp and juicy, you can feel your mouth salivating.
You release a light chuckle. “You’re telling me this when it’s literally the end of the world?”
He turns to toss you an apple. “I’m advising you to stop thinking about endings.”
Catching it in your hands, you stare at the intermingled colors for a moment, red, yellow, and a tad bit of green merging but never really mixing to become one. Taking a bite you realize its sweetness is lace with a tangy after taste, like those bittersweet endings you’ve come to know so well.
“I used to come to these places filled with so many thoughts on how to remember the details that I forget to enjoy the actual experience.” You pause, taking the time to decide if you wanted to continue.
Jungkook doesn’t make a sound, no signal to hint that he was going throw in commentary or interrupt your train of thought. You turn to glance at him, wondering if he’s wrapped in his own contemplation, only to find that he just looking at you, staring so intently you have to look away as you feel the blood rush to face.
“You’re still afraid of losing your memories, huh?”
It leaves his lips as a whisper, so soft that you are compelled to believe he was just mumbling to himself. You want to linger over his interesting choice of words, but you try not to think much of it and continue.
“So I tried to reason that if the journey is what we should be focusing on, I should just set goals that I’ll never reach. That way I wouldn’t have to deal with endings or being directionless in life.” You laugh. “And of course that backfired.”
“Continuously chasing after something you’ll never obtain?” He tilts his head towards the sun, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
You observe his side profile, visually drawing the outline of his silhouette and carving the image of his physical form into your brain knowing that it will last only as long as the end of time will allow.
“I just don’t like endings…or goodbyes…or even the thought that this is all there is to it.” You murmur, shifting your eyes back to the ground.
“There’s always more too it than you think.”
“And then I read somewhere that people don’t remember what you do but they remember how you made them feel.” You don’t know where you’re going with your outburst of thoughts, and maybe the diminishing days are convincing you to let it all out before it’s too late no matter how nonsensical everything you are saying is.
The breeze blowing by emphasizes the brief silence that follows, in which only the gentle rustling of leaves can be heard. You don’t know what else to say. You’ve never gotten this far in a conversation where your thoughts have been unhindered and you hadn’t planned an entire speech out. At this point you’re just waiting for him to respond, to tell you that you should stop thinking about uselessly irrelevant things or at least question why you’re telling him all this.
You watch as he turns to face you, not having realized you had closed the distance between you whilst ranting. He was so close you can almost feel the light brush of his shirt as it lifts up slightly in the wind and the heat of his body radiating off his smooth skin. His gaze is distracting. It’s something you’ve learned over the past week and then some. The way his dark pupils twinkle mysteriously almost mimicking those of someone’s you will never forget, but there’s something different about his. His eyes reflected the sunlight like there were stars inside.
You’re so enraptured by his beauty that you don’t realize he’s reduced the remaining space between the two of you to almost nothing, lips just millimeters away now. Without another thought, you lean forward and kiss him, mouth clumsily crashing with his. You can feel his lips curve into a smile as he kisses you back much in a much more composed and practiced manner, like he has done it a million times before, only you know that’s not possible. He breaks free temporarily only to murmur one sentence in response.
“I’ll always remember the way you made me feel.”
…
Time starts to fluctuate in ways you begin to lose track of.
Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night confused about where you were and frantically searching for something to calm your racing thoughts. You have dreams about different phases of your life, places you’ve been, people you used to know, only they are distorted in ways that make them almost unrecognizable. And then when you try to dig them up from your memories, you find that they are lost and everything has changed.
Now you find solace in the moonlight pouring through the curtain windows of the train and the solidity of Jungkook’s hand intertwined with yours as his jacket covers both of your bodies. The way he never leaves your side is unusual for someone you didn’t even know existed until about two weeks ago, and yet he gives you no reason to doubt that he would ever leave.
It’s something you’ve too grown familiar with, the scent of his body and the warmth of his smile. And as you walk the streets of foreign cities, navigating through crowds of strange people whose faces you won’t even remember, you choose to inscribe the details of his features in your memoirs, the softness of his skin, the width of his shoulders, the veins on his forearms…
You’ve learned that he enjoys gazing at large bodies of water, lakes, rivers, and oceans, which is why you find yourself on the beach at the last stop of your journey.
“Would it make sense to say I’ve always liked being alone, but I’m not too fond of being lonely?”
He takes a minute to contemplate your seemingly contradictory statement.
“Makes perfect sense to me.” He absentmindedly tosses a seashell at the incoming wave. It’s swallowed instantly, and all you can focus on is the foamy ripples that wane back into the seemingly endless blue. “I think what makes us feel lonely is being with people who don’t really understand us, and that doesn’t happen when you’re alone since you’re just by yourself. ”
“Wow, you’re the first person who hasn’t just told me I’m just being anti-social…well, technically the second.” You smile, breathing out slowly. “I think you and my brother, Yoongi, would’ve gotten along pretty well.”
“Did he leave?”
You nod, recalling the last image of him still safely tucked away in your memories.
“And you wanted to stay to enjoy these last few weeks.”
You arch a brow, having expected him to ask why you didn’t leave rather than stating the exact answer you would’ve given him had he asked.
“How’d you guess?”
He laughs. “I figured, since you don’t seem bothered wasting all this time with me.”
“True.” You smile. “Although I wouldn’t call it wasting…”
The salty sea breeze is something you definitely didn’t have the luxury of smelling growing up. This is your first time visiting the beach, first time seeing the ocean. Each day you’ve spent on this adventure of sorts with Jungkook has been a first…and a last now that you think about it.
“You’re right. I couldn’t have asked for a better end to life on earth.”
…
Home.
It’s not a concept you are familiar with in the traditional sense. It’s not a feeling you’ve experienced first hand nor is it a place you’ve truly been to.
But looking into Jungkook’s eyes you can see it.
You can see it in the way he looks at you, the way he embraces you in his arms not because it’s the end of the world and there is no one else to hold, but because it’s where you belong and neither of you would have it any other way.
“This can’t be it.” You choke out, already losing yourself to the rush of tears, though you had tried so hard to keep it together until the end. “W-we j-just met…”
He doesn’t say anything, but instead holds you tighter.
“I never even asked you anything about yourself. All I did was ramble on and on about me, throwing all my stupid thoughts out there like any of it mattered.” You’re tears won’t stop. You had always hated endings; putting the utmost effort into not caring so you wouldn’t have anything you were afraid of losing. But you just couldn’t do it. Not with him.
He flashes you one last smile as he gently cups your tear-streamed cheeks in his hands, a gesture that is not overpowered by a deep sense of hollowness but rather reflects an almost peaceful ray of hope.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here.”
…
…
“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve watched him die. I just remember always crying until I have no tears left to shed. But he always gives me that reassuring look, with those stars in his eyes and that twitch of his soft lips like it isn’t the last time, that we’ll for sure meet again.” You release a trivial laugh, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. “Of course, I never pick up on it until I’m about to wake up.”
The bar was dim and comparably quiet, being that it was only you and Namjoon sitting at the counter. It was a Monday night, not exactly the best of days to get drunk, but it’s not like you really cared, though you probably should. You had invited the entire lab out for dinner to celebrate the publishing of your most recent paper, which turned out quite pleasant and ended roughly an hour ago. All the other students and professors had gone home.
“He’s always waiting.” You murmur, staring at the shot glass in front of you, still talking as if you were by yourself, reiterating the words that continuously circle back in your head.
Namjoon looks up, startled by your sudden comment after a lengthy pause.
“I never have to look for him because he always comes back to me.” You scoff, bringing the glass up to your lips, tilting your head, and letting the liquid burn down your throat. “And then when I react like I’ve just met him for the first time, he just flashes that gentle smile of acceptance like I didn’t just break his heart.”
Your bottom lip quivers, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face. God, you feel ridiculous.
“And that happens every time?” Namjoon’s voice is barely a whisper, his eyes focused on his own glass.
“Never misses a beat.” You sniffle softy, picking up a napkin to dot away your tears. “I thought I was ok, but I guess I am insane.” You laugh pathetically.
“I understand. He means a lot to you.”
“He’s the kind of forever that never changes, the kind of time that does not reach an end just to continue that moment you’ve always wanted to last for an eternity.” You don’t even know what’s gotten into you, and though you’re aware of the mess you must look like right now, you can’t seem to pull it together.
There’s a long pause, and nothing but the sound of stifled music and distant footsteps can be heard.
“Professor Y/L/N, I know it’s not my place to be curious about your personal life, but can you really not think of a single person that resembles him, whether it is in the past or now?” Namjoon voice is more desperate than he probably intended, but any could tell you were not being quite yourself.
A forced smile makes it’s way to your lips as you shake your head. “He was always exactly what I needed. He was always too good to be real.”
“It’s not impossible.”
“It’s bad to be too dependent on other people.” You flash him an amused look, not really knowing what you are saying anymore as your head begins to spin from the alcohol. “And please, please, don’t get me wrong. I’m not weak or insecure.”
Namjoon doesn’t respond, sensing your tipsiness.
“It’s not that he gives my life meaning or that he makes me feel complete.” You run your hands through your hair, trying to keep your cool, but anyone could tell you’re losing it. “He’s the only truth in a world of lies. Even when I’m not aware that everything around me is merely a dream, he always feels like the only thing that is real, and for him I would be content never waking up because the rest of reality doesn’t even matter. And don’t get me wrong, I’ve long learned to be independent and logical, to refrain from getting lost in dreams, relying on others, and carrying expectations that will only result in disappointment. I’ve practiced the art of self-love for all my life, and I’m fine. My life has purpose, and I am complete the way I am.” You release a shaky breath, palms feeling cold and clammy. “I’ve always felt that I’ve had everything and yet… he offers more.”
You look up to meet Namjoon’s eyes that are nothing but sympathetic.
“How could I not want more?” You croak, beginning to cry again. “I’m so greedy.”
That’s what it is. Always wanting more, never feeling like what you have is enough. When will you learn to be grateful for what is and stop trying to obtain what is not yours to begin with?
“You are not greedy.” Namjoon’s voice is discreet, but firm. “You’re afraid to believe of his existence.”
Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “Because I know he doesn’t exist.”
“Then why do you keep going back?” His question is not for the purpose of attacking you or for blatantly calling you out for something you’ve been guilty of for years, but it catches you off guard, and you suddenly find yourself exposed… vulnerable.
“My research” You reply dryly, maintaining a steady voice amidst the fable you’ve been repeatedly telling everyone who’s ever asked. “I don’t really have a choice.”
Namjoon doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t try to force the truth out of you even though he knows exactly why. “No, I mean, why does your mind subconsciously always go back to him?” He murmurs, staring at the table solemnly.
His query once again seizes you in unfamiliar territory, and for the first time, you don’t know what to say or at least can’t come up with an answer that will not expose the true reason you’ve been experimenting. Because you know Namjoon is right.
“You can romanticize me all you wish, but the devil wrapped in silk is still the devil” - Unknown
***
Exhaling a shallow breath, Anastasia carefully opened her eyes, her head feeling like it would split open with every beat of her heart. It was dark and cold, and t he air felt so dry it was almost suffocating to breathe. Her knees were pressed uncomfortably tight against her chest and she struggled to form a coherent thought.
Disoriented, head foggy, she tried to remember where she was, but the loud whirring in her ears and the occasional jarring jolt made it hard to concentrate. The last thing she remembered, she was on the beach with Jimin and Taehyung, waiting for Seokjin and Yoongi to return.
Where was she? It was so cold.
She was in and out of consciousness after that, vague memories of indistinct voices, and moments of deafening silence the only thing she remembered. The ache in her bones, whether from the cold or something else, never left. In another moment of awareness, she felt her limp body being shoved into something, a car maybe? Fighting with what little strength she had to get out of the person’s arms, she didn’t win.
A car door slamming, voices, then nothing.
It must have been many hours before she roused again because her limbs were stiff and sore. Still groggy, though significantly less so than before, she struggled to sit up. The violent shivers, which no doubt also attributed to the soreness in her muscles, no longer wracked her frame. A small relief.
Disoriented, she flinched, not expecting his presence. He looked different from the last time she’d seen him, still angelic, but now he had deep purple bruising under his eyes and his clothes didn’t look as carefully picked as they usually did.
She could only imagine what she looked like.
“What happened, where are we?” The words came out in a raspy whisper, her mouth too dry for her vocal cords to vibrate properly.
Jimin smiled sweetly and handed her a glass of water, “Here”
Taking it, she greedily chugged it down, and when it was empty, she begged with her eyes for more.
He shook his head, “You’ll get sick. You need food first”
Clutching her stomach, she realized how hungry she was. Grinning, he said, “Thought so”
Taking in their surroundings — a plain room without a hint of personal touch, she repeated, “Where are we?”
Jimin hesitated, shrugging.
Cautiously, she pulled the covers up to her chin as if they would protect her, “Jimin,” she warned, “Where are we?”
“I don’t know”
A terrible thought occurred, “ Did you kidnap me? ” Where was Jungkook?
“Of course not,” He soothed, “ I didn’t kidnap you, I’m a prisoner here, too”
Somehow, knowing it wasn’t Jimin that had kidnapped her made everything so much worse, a cold sense of dread settling in.
“Who, then?” Worried for him, she leaned in, “Are you okay?”
Frowning, he stood from the bed, running a hand through his messy hair.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he admitted after a while.
Wide-eyed, she cupped herself, horrified at what he was insinuating. Catching her reaction, his hands jerked out, “Not you!”
Wracking her brain, she tried to follow him. Then it dawned on her that Taehyung was the only other person there with them on the beach. Frantic, she grabbed Jimin’s hand, “Where’s Taehyung?!”
Groaning, he gripped at the strands of his hair and fell back onto the bed, whining “They won’t tell me!”
“Who’s they?”
It took him a minute to respond, “I don’t know,” he mumbled, “probably some chaebols that want to stop Seokjin and Namjoon’s influence. We’re leverage”
Chaebols? Influence? What the hell was Jimin talking about? Anastasia felt the shock beginning to wear off and the hysteria set in.
“It’s a desperate move on their part, but I suppose I understand. After all, what other choices do they have? Shooting Taehyung, though —” It was harder to understand Jimin’s accent when he spoke so fast, but she picked out the most important part.
“Taehyung was shot?!”
Jimin jumped slightly at her outburst and the nervous shift returned like he was trying to hide how concerned he actually was, “He should be fine, it didn’t look fatal”
Should be. She didn’t like those odds.
“Don’t worry,” He cooed, brushing his fingertips against her cheek, “I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt”
“It’s not me I’m worried about!” That was a lie, but she was definitely worried more about Taehyung, “What if he bled out? Holy shit, what if he bled out?! ”
“Hey, hey, look at me,” Jimin gently commanded, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to meet his gaze, “He’s fine. The goal was to incapacitate him, not kill him”
Searching his deep brown eyes, she found sincerity. Licking her dry lips, she asked, “Why?”
Jimin tilted his head back and forth, weighing his answer, “To level the playing field?”
Level the playing field? What did he mean by that? There was a sinking feeling in her chest. Cautiously, not sure if she really wanted to know, she asked, “What does that mean?”
He deliberately avoided eye contact, a playful, knowing grin on his lips. Anastasia felt irritated with his behavior.
“You should take a shower, you’ve been out of it for a while,” He suggested, changing the subject.
“I don’t want to shower — why are you not taking this seriously? Jimin, we're captive , what is wrong with you?” She growled climbing to her feet, almost tipping over when the ground swayed beneath her feet.
Jimin hummed, gripping the tops of her arms firmly and guiding her back to the bed, “You’re right, showering might be too much right now. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, okay? I promised, didn’t I?”
Anastasia didn’t really know what he was talking about, but she trusted him, letting him ease her back into the mattress and tuck her in.
“Just stay here until you’ve recovered, I’ll get us some food,” Jimin instructed, backing away and slipping out of the room.
Low voices greeted him, but she couldn’t understand what they said. Jimin’s brighter tone was easy to pick out, even through the closed door. It consoled her some that he didn’t sound distressed.
Greeting her with an easy smile when he returned, he informed her that the food was on its way. It was obvious now that Jimin had lied about not knowing the people holding them captive, he was way too comfortable. Why wasn’t she surprised?
“Jimin, you know who they are, don’t you?”
“I’ve made friends with the guards,” he smirked cheekily, plopping beside her on the bed.
Having spent enough time looking at his face, she could see through his near-perfec t façade. There was fatigue in the way he moved and she suddenly wondered when the last time he slept was. After they ate, she decided she’d insist that he got some sleep.
Taking some time to use the bathroom and wash her face, she tried to remember how she got into this situation. Leaning against the sink, bowing her head, she wracked her brain til a headache began to form. There was a blank spot in her memory, she could recall everything up to her frustration with Taehyung when he mentioned Beatrice, and then suddenly she was waking up here .
Giving up, she stepped back into the room to find Jimin sound asleep, having passed out with his legs still hanging off the edge.
Sighing, she went to the window on the far side of the room, pulling back the curtain to look outside. She hadn’t been expecting to recognize her surroundings, but to her surprise, she did. They were two cities west of where she lived.
Letting the curtain fall closed once more, she began to plan their escape. Jimin was chummy with the guards, he might be able to talk them into helping them, or at the very least distract them while she got help.
Her mind raced as she paced back and forth, biting her nails.
When the door to the exit of the room began to open, Anastasia jumped to stand in front of Jimin, prepared to protect him in his vulnerable state.
A tall man in a well-tailored suit entered, giving her a strange sense of deja vu stepped into the room. Just by the man’s expression, she could tell he meant business.
Tilting his head, he took in the sleeping figure behind her, smirking when she shifted her weight to block his view. “Follow me,” he ordered.
Shooting Jimin a concerned glance, she hesitated. If she left, would he be okay? Did she even have a choice?
Looking at the large bodyguards that stood there waiting for her, she knew she didn’t.
Stepping out of the room, cautiously taking in her surroundings, she realized they were in a suite. Why had they been brought to a hotel? An oddly luxurious setting to hold two victims. That brought her to her next question; why had she been taken in the first place? It wasn’t like she had anything to give.
The man in the suit sat on the couch, crossing his legs and resting an arm across the back. Silence ensued, Anastasia shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. What did he want? Was he going to hurt her? If she screamed would someone hear? What if he was super rich and owned the hotel and no one would help? He looked super rich.
Deciding to wait it out, the buff, muscley men standing at the exit incentivizing her to behave.
“Why am I here?” She asked lowly, making the effort to keep her tone non-confrontational.
The man smirked, “Sit down”
Hesitantly, she lowered herself onto the couch across from him, shooting the guards another cautious glance.
“Jeon Jungkook…” The man said her best friend’s name like he was reminiscing a memory, “He’s been missing for a long time, you know”
She furrowed her brow. Missing? Since when? Her mind began to race with so many possible explanations, but which one was correct?
“So imagine my surprise when I find him here, with you ,” He paused to pour himself a drink from the water jug on the coffee table between them. “At first I thought you were just a cover, someone to help him seem normal, but then the other six showed up and you’re still here”
She’s still here? What was that supposed to mean?
Nodding she agreed, “I was surprised by the other six, too” She was grasping at straws, trying to make it seem like she knew more than she did.
The man tilted his head to the side curiously, “And yet you managed to wiggle your way into their good graces”
Anastasia didn’t respond.
“That’s why you’re here,” he finally got to the point, “You’ve infiltrated a group of very dangerous people and I am very interested to know how”
“Dangerous people? They’re not dangerous, you’re dangerous! You shot Taehyung! Is he even alive?” She hissed, immediately composing herself when she caught a guard stepping closer out of the corner of her eye.
Leaning forward, the man studied her expression closely, “You have no idea who they are, do you?”
Licking her lips anxiously, she nodded, “I know who they are”
Shaking his head, he stood up, “I don’t think you do”
He walked over to the kitchenette, he grabbed a tablet that was on the counter, typing something in. “I’ll show you”
Sitting beside her on the couch, he pressed play on the video he’d pulled up, handing her the tablet.
The video began in her kitchen, before the fire, with Yoongi standing at her sink, filling a pot with water, and Jungkook leaning against her fridge, watching.
“You put cameras in my home?!” She exclaimed, standing up from the couch and backing away, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Yoongi turned off the tap and set the pot on the old gas stove, lighting it up. Stepping back, he stared at the pot for a moment, tilting his head to the side almost contemplatively before turning to Jungkook and saying something she couldn’t understand. Jungkook nodded and walked out of view.
Anastasia looked up at her captor, confused at what he wanted her to see. So far he was doing a very poor job at convincing her of any danger.
“Keep watching,” is all the man said, annoyingly cocky.
Returning her attention back to the screen, she was just in time to see Jungkook walk back into the frame, holding a folded towel that she knew he got from the cupboard at the end of the hall. Shaking it open he walked up to the stove and without hesitation, tossed it next to the fire.
Anastasia’s eyes blew wide in disbelief but she couldn’t look away.
It took a second before the towel erupted into flames and it didn’t take long after that for it to spread to the counter beside it. Throughout, Jungkook and Yoongi stood calmly, watching the flames eat up everything it touched.
It felt like hours before either pulled out their phones, Yoongi dialing 911 from what she heard and Jungkook calling… her.
“Taz!” Jungkook exclaimed frantically, his voice muffled through the sound of flames. “ I don’t know what happened! I just-I left to use the bathroom for like 2 seconds! That’s it! […]I won’t be after I tell you what happened […] I maybe, sorta, kinda…lit…your kitchen on fire? […] It was an accident, I swear!”
Anastasia felt sick to her stomach, tossing the tablet onto the couch, unable to watch anymore. It was all a lie, everything was a lie.
Beatrice had been right . She thought miserably.
“Do you understand now?” The man asked.
Clenching her jaw, she sat back down across from him, “You said Jungkook was missing, what do you mean?”
“I mean exactly that. Five years ago, after a certain altercation with a man that ended in the hospital, Jungkook disappeared”
Anastasia shifted, uncomfortable with the information, “The man ended up in the hospital or Jungkook?”
“The man. He was in a coma for two years before passing away”
Making a mad dash for the kitchen, she barely made it to the sink before retching, nothing but a bit of water and stomach acid coming up.
Spitting, she blindly turned on the tap, using the water to wash out her mouth. “You’re lying,” she rasped, suddenly unsure. This wasn’t the first time she’d run into Jungkook’s temper, there had been a few times throughout the years where he’d gotten into some serious fights. A few she’d been witness to, others she’d seen the aftermath. All of them ended in the hospital. But he’d given them concussions, broken noses, dislocated knees, he didn’t put people in comas, he wasn’t a killer .
Besides, it had been a long time since Jungkook got in a fight, even if the man was telling the truth, Jungkook wasn’t like that anymore, he was a good person who loved her.
Recalling the video she’d just seen, she wondered if maybe it was just that Jungkook had gotten better at lying. Lighting a kitchen on fire and taking someone’s life were two very different crimes, though, and she just couldn’t bring herself to think of Jungkook as a murderer .
Memories of Jungkook jogging up to her with a big smile, saying her name in that teasing lilt, she couldn’t believe that he was a bad person. Despite the evidence staring her in the face, she could only see his smile in her mind.
Her captor had made it out to seem like all seven of them were evil, but evil people didn’t care and if there was anything she’d learned about them in the time she’d known them was that they cared more for each other than she had ever seen anyone care. He was right about one thing, though, somehow, she’d managed to catch their attention, become someone they wanted to protect, and for as much as she felt betrayed, she would still rather be back in the room with Jimin than here with this man.
Stealing her resolve, she stood up straight, “Tell me who they are”
***
I have a question! I’ve tried not to project what I imagine Anastasia to look like into the book so you could imagine her in the way you wish, so I was wondering, what does she look like to you?
“She denies it, but the truth is, she’s falling in love” - idk
“Actually Taz…” Jungkook grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck.
Anastasia’s shoulders dropped, “You’re not coming?”
“Don’t pout,” He complained, cupping her cheeks, “I just have to run some errands. Hobi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung will drop me off, they got called into work”
Despite Jungkook’s request, she couldn’t help the pout on her lips, “Okay”
“Let’s go,” Seokjin whispered in her ear, gently tugging her away.
Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung followed wordlessly to Seokjin’s car—just as sleek and expensive as she remembered.
Taehyung opened the passenger door, bowing dramatically and motioning for her to get in. Biting her lip, she held back a laugh and slid into the seat.
“Where to?” Seokjin interrupted her thoughts after the other three buckled in.
***
Stepping into the chain restaurant, one in walking distance of the movie theater, felt like a scene out of a movie. As expected at 1 pm on a weekday, there weren’t a lot of people there, but everyone present hushed and stared. Anastasia almost tripped over herself at the sudden attention, Seokjin holding her waist steady.
“They have wings,” Yoongi announced, reading off the menu, seemingly unbothered by the stares.
“Oh? Really?” Taehyung asked, pulling away from Jimin—who’d been hanging off his shoulders—to get a better look.
“I’ll get us a seat,” Anastasia muttered, eager to not be the center of attention anymore. Most everyone had gone back to their meals, but there was still a fair amount of people that repeatedly glanced their way. Slipping back out the entrance, she looked for a place to sit, noticing on the way in that no one had made use of the outdoor seating.
Getting comfy at a table with a large umbrella that was too tall to be of much use, she waited for them to find her.
“Anastasia, love,” She could hear the amusement in Seokjin’s voice as he bent over to talk to her, running a hand up and down her back, “You have to tell us what you want to order before you run off”
Face flaming she ducked her head, “R-right. I’ll have whatever you’re having”
He nodded and disappeared back inside, only to return a minute later. Looking up questioningly, she watched him sit down.
“They’ll order,” he answered her unspoken question.
Nodding, they fell into a comfortable silence, watching people go about their lives. Well, shewatched, he glared.
Taking the opportunity to admire him in perfect daylight, she felt her face heat up. He was so attractivein an impossibly beautiful kind of way. Lean, with wide shoulders and a slim neck that lead up to a soft and pleasant face, and a jawline that could cut diamonds. And his eyes, his eyes were the darkest shade of brown, even in the sunlight, almost black.
Gradually, his expression morphed from cold and unapproachable to something akin to arrogance. It took her a second to realize it was because of her staring.
“Excuse me?” A petite girl with big blue eyes interrupted, saving Anastasia from coming up with something to excuse her staring.
Seokjin didn’t even turn to acknowledge the girl and Anastasia was tempted let her squirm until she left, but second-hand embarrassment won out and she gently kicked Seokjin under the table.
Languidly, as if it was the biggest inconvenience, he turned to face the girl, “Yes?”
Batting her lashes innocently, she fidgeted with her hands, “I-I was just wondering…could I have your number?”
It was clear that her question came as no surprise to him, his response already in progress before she’d finished speaking, “Ask her,” he nodded in Anastasia’s direction.
Looking about as embarrassed as Anastasia felt, the girl spluttered out an apology, “Sorry, I-I didn’t realize you two were together”
Anastasia felt a little offended by that but didn’t comment. It was kind of hard to believe that anyone wouldn’tassume two people sitting alone together at a restaurant were together. The more likely alternative was that the girl suspected they were together, but still thought it was worth the shot to get Seokjin’s attention. Just in case they weren’t together. Which they weren’t, not really.
“Who are you?” Came Taehyung’s familiar deep timber, breaking the awkward silence before it could really begin.
The girl’s eyes blew wide at the sight of him and for a moment, Anastasia felt understood, “I’m Belle”
“Hello, Belle,” Jimin smiled enchantingly, slipping in beside Tae.
“Hi,” she breathed, completely captivated. People gravitated towards Jimin by nature, without much effort on his part, but when he didtry, he had everyone and anything under a spell. Belle was no exception.
“Do you need something?” He asked, tilting his head, earrings catching the light at just the right angle and making it look like he sparkled.
Still in awe, Belle shook her head, dazed.
Yoongi grabbed Anastasia’s attention, sliding in beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Food?” She asked.
“They’ll bring it out,” he assured, kissing her temple.
Turning back to a smirking Jimin, she noticed Belle’s retreating figure. He took care of that fast.
By the time they finished lunch and made it to the movie theater, they’d been approached by 2 more people trying to ask one of the boys out. Anastasia was thoroughly irritated.
Leaning over the armrest in the dark theater, Yoongi whispered, “You look hot when you’re jealous”
“I am notjealous,” she hissed, unconvincingly. Yoongi snorted, sitting back.
The lights dimmed as the movie began, Anastasia pulling her legs up to cuddle into herself. For the next 30 minutes of the movie, she was hyper-aware of Yoongi and Jimin on either side of her. Neither of them reached out to touch her or get closer in any way like she had half expected, but still, in the darkness of the theater, everything felt so much more intimate.
Shifting, she leaned over to Jimin, who sat closest to the exit, “I’m gonna use the restroom”.
He nodded in acknowledgment and she stood up, ducking her way out. Hearing someone’s footsteps following her down the hallway, she glanced back to see Yoongi with his hands in his pockets.
Letting her curious expression do the talking, she tilted her head.
“I have to pee,” he shrugged, breezing past her. Rolling her eyes, she skipped up to his side and shoved him lightly. A smile broke on his face as he teetered to the side, glancing down at her.
“I don’t need a chaperone to use the bathroom,” she accused.
Eyes widening in faux surprise, he stared back and a giggle bubbled out of her.
“You’re so lame,” she snickered, just as he grabbed at her and pulled her into a kiss.
It was now her eyes that were wide with surprise, though herexpression was sincere, “What was that for?”
He shrugged, nudging her towards the bathroom, “no reason”
Glaring suspiciously, she decided to let it go.
“Go back, you’ll miss the movie,” She nudged back. With a deep, airy laugh, he took a step towards their theater, but before he got far, she cupped his cheeks and pulled him into a deep kiss.
Keeping his hands to himself, understanding that she wanted to be in control, he kissed back gently. Smiling, a giddy feeling in her chest, she pulled away and darted into the bathroom. She really did have to pee.
Looking at herself in the mirror after washing her hands, she realized how silly she looked. Jimin’s shirt was unflattering on her frame, conflicting with her styled hair and makeup. She looked like she’d spilled something on her shirt and this was the only thing that fit in the lost and found bin.
Huffing, she pulled off the shirt and draped it over her arm. She wasn’t sure she could pull off the outfit, it was very bold, but she wanted to feel pretty so she ignored her nerves and straightened her shoulders.
Just then, someone walked into the bathroom, a woman with pin-straight black hair and a build that looked like she did MMA.
Nodding cordially, Anastasia waited for her to move by so she could exit.
The woman hesitated by the stalls, “Who are the guys you’re with?”
Anastasia’s brows flew up, who was this woman? Had she noticed them when they’d entered the theater together? How was Anastasia supposed to answer? They weren’t her friends, but they weren’t her boyfriends either.
“Just some…people I know,” There, that was vague enough.
“Are you dating any of them?” The woman persisted.
Anastasia understood that the woman was probably asking because she was interested in them, but the questions still made her uncomfortable.
“Um, excuse me,” She nodded in parting, escaping, almost jogging back to her seat.
Noticing her expression, Yoongi leaned over, “What happened?”
“You all attracted too much damn attention is what happened,” She huffed back, crossing her arms. Was this what her life would be around them? Constant attention from strangers? She felt Yoongi’s stare but refused to turn back.
When the lights came back on, after the movie ended, she was abruptly pulled into someone’s arms.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” Jimin hissed in her ear, his arm around her waist. It took her a second to realize he was annoyed that she’d removed his shirt.
Turning around in his arms, she wrapped her’s around his neck, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You’re not my boyfriend”
She felt his jaw flex against her cheek, “Exactly”
Pulling away, eyes wide, she watched him walk away.
The afternoon passed quickly after that, their time together bleeding into the evening. It was easy to have fun with them, everything came naturally like it did with Jungkook, a feeling she thought she would never feel with anyone butJungkook.
They ended up at the beach, Anastasia and Yoongi watching the sunset while Seokjin, Jimin, and Taehyung chased each other around, throwing sand and kicking water at each other.
“You missed your class,” Yoongi pointed out casually, sitting next to her in the sand.
Pouting, she nodded.
“Jagiya,” He coaxed, patting his lap and she wiggled around so she was laying with her head on his lap. Soothingly, he rubbed her arm.
“What does it mean?” She asked after a while, playing with his necklace, nervous to know the answer.
He paused, “What does what mean?”
“Jagiya”
Leaning back, he propped himself up with his arms, “It’s…a term of endearment,” he explained.
Anastasia frowned, “How come you only use it with me, then?”
He smirked and looked down, “It’s just for you, jagiya”
Shivers raced down her spine, his voice was so deep. Raspy. Sexy.
“Oh,” she breathed.
They stared at each other a while longer until she heard her name being called out. Sitting up, she had just enough time to brace herself before she was yanked to her feet by Taehyung.
“Come play!” He ordered, pulling her against his soaking wet frame.
“Tae! You’re wet!”
He smirked devilishly, “The goal is to get youwet”
That was all the warning she got before Seokjin hauled her over his shoulder and he and Taehyung took off towards the water.
“Put me down!” She screeched, her laugh too prominent to be taken seriously.
It was completely dark by the time they settled, all four of them dripping wet. She was sure that her makeup was running down her cheeks by now.
“I’m hungry,” She whined, head resting on Taehyung’s arm (he was spread out like starfish in the sand).
“Me too,” He agreed.
Sitting up, she nudged his thigh, “Go get us food, then”
He’d been about to say something to Jimin, but did a double-take at her, “Why me?”
Shrugging, she shifted her weight so that Jimin, who’d scooted closer, could slot himself behind her. “Yeah, Tae, go get food,” Jimin chimed, perching his chin on her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.
“I’ll go,” Yoongi offered, stumbling to his feet, Seokjin ambling after him, shaking sand and salt out of his drying hair.
Huffing a laugh when Taehyung smirked in satisfaction, she rested her head back on Jimin’s shoulder.
“Where do you think they’re gonna go?” He asked after a while. Jimin and she shrugged simultaneously.
The sound of waves lulled her into a relaxed state, everything feeling so surreal. But it wasreal, Jimin really had his arms around her, Taehyung was really lounging next to them, it was real. She was having a hard time understanding how they’d gotten to that point.
Their perfect moment was broken when Taehyung opened his mouth, “Are you still talking to Beatrice?”
Narrowing her gaze, she pulled away from Jimin, who made a noise of protest, to face them both. “What’s your obsession with my relationship with Beatrice?”
Taehyung sat up, “She’s a psycho, why wouldn’tI want to know if you still talk to her?”
“You shouldn’t call people psycho, Tae. And she’s not.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes, “Then why is she so damn nosy about shit that has nothing to do with her?”
Frustrated, she challenged, “Maybe because you’re all so overbearing and controlling that she’s concerned about her friend?”
Taehyung’s face dropped, his expression becoming infinitely more intimidating, “Taking you out for food, helping you with your homework, helping you pack your shit, keeping you safe when you’re shit-faced drunk, taking you on dates, that’s all called caring about someone, Anastasia. Why the hell are you taking her side right now?”
Opening and closing her mouth, she struggled to find words, “I’m not taking anyone’s side!”
“Like hell you aren’t,” He snorted, “Shit, Anastasia, if you don’t like us, just say so, you don’t need to look for a fucking excuse to start a fight every other day”
She didn’t know what to say, they always made her feel like she was crazy, but maybe she wascrazy. This was the first relationship she’d ever been in that she actually wantedto be in, she didn’t know what she was doing. Where did she draw lines? What were her boundaries? Did she know the difference between a hard no and the discomfort of meeting someone halfway?
“I like you a lot less when you yell at me,” she pointed out, her pride wounded.
“And I like you a lot more when you aren’t pretending you’re better than everyone else,” He sneered.
“Taehyung…” Jimin warned lowly. They both ignored him.
“I’ve never thought I was better than anyone else, out of the two of us, you’rethe one with a god complex,” she refuted and Taehyung rolled his eyes.
“No one can do right by you, can they? If we spend time with you, we’re overbearing, if we try to protect you, we’re controlling, if we’re confident, it’s a god complex. What the hell do you even want?”
Scowling, she grunted, “I want Jungkook”
Out of everything that had been said, Anastasia could tell that those words hit hardest. Even Jimin tensed up.
“Well,” Taehyung muttered, getting to his feet, “I won’t waste my fucking time then”
And then he was stalking off across the beach.
They watched him leave, Jimin only turning to her when Taehyung was out of earshot, “We have a genuine interest in you, Anastasia, if you’re only with us for Jungkook’s sake…then you’re hurting him too,” Jimin’s voice was soft, almost like a lullaby. It was grounding, filling her with remorse.
“No, of course not. I really like all of you, even though I know that’s insane. I just…I think I took my frustration out on him,” She sulked, ready to chase after Taehyung and apologize. “Things are just a lot right now. Getting evicted from my apartment, trying to keep you all happy, finishing all my schoolwork early so I can keep my credits through a transfer, I’m so stressed!”
Sighing, he reached out and pulled her into his lap, “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time, but you don’t need to do so much. We’ll do it for you, we’ll take care of you. Helping you pack, encouraging you to remember to take breaks, offering a place to live, it’s all because we care. Just trust us to take care of everything, you don’t have to fight so hard anymore, Taz, it’s okay”
His words soothed something deep inside her, tears overflowing. Nodding into his chest, she consented, “Okay”
Nodding too, he nudged her to get up, “Let’s go chase him down”
Brushing the sand off their clothes, they looked to the direction Taehyung had left in, eyes widening in horror. A hooded figure, five or so paces from him, aimed a sleek black gun at his head.
Jimin hastily covered Anastasia’s mouth before she could scream, “He’ll be fine,” he reassured.
Fine?How could he be fine? He was being held at gunpoint!
Faster than she could really follow, Taehyung lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and tackling the man. Jimin’s hand couldn’t completely muffle her terrified screech when Taehyung didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
And then arms were shooting out from behind them, ripping her and Jimin apart.
“No!” She shrieked, writhing and punching at the arms holding her hostage, “Jimin!”
New tears, fueled by terror, clouded her vision and she could barely make Jimin out as he struggled against the three men holding him down, gagging him.
Stop it! She thought desperately, a gag being shoved into her own mouth. You’re hurting him!
“We’ll kill him,” A tall man in a suit threatened, casually slipping between his two hostages. It wasn’t until he’d spoken that Anastasia noticed Taehyung, much closer than she’d last seen him, a sparse trail of bodies left in his wake.
Were they dead? She couldn’t handle the thought, but to her relief, she noticed some of them move, groaning into the sand. The ones that weren’tmoving, well…she had to tell herself that they were just unconscious.
“No, you won’t,” Taehyung’s voice was chilling — absolute.
The man’s expression morphed into a smirk and he shrugged, “Maybe not, but I’ll kill her”
With renewed vigor, she began to struggle, desperate to get away. She didn’t want to die!
That was the last thing she saw was a bullet searing through Taehyung’s abdomen, before she felt a pinch in her neck and everything faded away.
