tannieschim

Latest Posts by tannieschim

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again. 

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.

word count: 7.2 k

“you would die for her, for him.”

“You’re dying.”

The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.

“At this rate, you won’t have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn’t have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I’m afraid there’s not much to do.” He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future’s passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.

Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.

Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair’s arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.

The professionalism is now out of the drain, “You’re an idiot, y/n.”

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the masterlist.

© all rights reserved; jiminrings on tumblr, 2020-2024. no reposts, translations, or any type of distribution allowed.

KEY:

[ ♡ ] fluff ; [ ☁︎ ] angst ; [ ☆ ] smut ; latest

patreon (for early access + exclusive content)

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bts fics that give me life in a drought

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 2

didn't expect to make a part 2 so soon but seeing how much recognition the first one got, here we are! some of these contain a hearty amount of angst, and oh they're just simply divine :( once again, please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did!

➺ knife’s edge - by @readyplayerhobi

| jungkook x reader, jimin x reader | 141.8k

mafia au, fluff, angst, smut, violence, series

>> summary: "the jeon clan is family, built on blood and loyalty. it’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the clan, jeon jungkook. you would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?"

this fic absolutely BROKE ME. i was so conflicted all throughout and deadass went through all the 50 stages of grief. the angst was unparalleled. the fluff had me giggling like a madman cuz jk is an absolute sweetheart :( jimin is too :(( y/n is dumb and so is her situation :((( i cherish this fic sm

➺ novocaine - by @kinktae

| jimin x reader |

1990s au, exes au, angst, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "going home was hard – painful even. but falling back in love with jimin, the boy you left behind? downright gut-wrenching."

➺ ghostin him- by @adonis-koo

| namjoon x reader (taehyung x reader) | 26k

angst, angst, as well as angst. comfort too dw, one-shot

>> summary: "life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. that is until you meet kim namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go."

ohmygod the writing hello? the amount of soul, depth, and sheer utter beauty in missy's words are beyond me. had me sobbing every other line and my heart aching all throughout and boy was it worth it.

➺ take five - by @jiminrings

| yoongi x reader | 10k

angst, fluff, unrequited love, pinning

summary: "dr. min yoongi's a board-certified dermatologist; skilled, renowned, and in-demand - oh and also, he's divorced."

➺ page turner - by @gukslut

| taehyung x reader | 13.6k

teacher!tae/ librarian!reader, fluff, smut, minor angst

summary: "corny romance and a zillion cheesy Romeo and Juliet quotes and references."

my tainted hopeless romantic heart ugh. they're so cute.

➺ bloom- by @hobidreams

| namjoon x reader | 20.7k

assassin!reader x florist!namjoon, smut, angst, action, sprinkles of fluff

>> summary: "family is who you kill for. who you die for. in this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. but when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. that is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom."

➺ counterfeit culture - by @ggukcangetit

| seokjin x reader | 29k

modern day au loosely based on jane austen’s pride & prejudice, e2l, fluff, smut, comedy

>>summary: “for as long as you can remember, you’ve always known right from wrong, good from bad, and woke from entitled/ignorant. but when you continue to cross paths with Kim Seokjin - the apparent antithesis of everything you believe in - certain walls begin to crumble. and over time, you come to realise that the world isn’t black and white, first impressions can be misleading, and that you are just as guilty as each person you’ve judged so harshly. realisation brings acceptance, and maybe, just maybe, acceptance can bring something more.”

➺ if i told you - by @gukyi

| jungkook x reader | 22k

friends to lovers!au, college!au, fluff, comedy, angst

>> summary: "in order to pay for university, jeon jungkook decides to market his most valuable asset to the wealthy socialites of campus: himself. donning a suit and tie, tousled hair, and glasses (to look smarter), he becomes every rich daughter’s dream: the perfect boyfriend to bring to balls, dinners, and business gatherings. all while you watch from the sidelines, only able to dream of having that much money to buy yourself what you really want: him."

➺ to hold a dragon's heart - by @softlyjiminie

| taehyung x reader | 19.1k

dragon prince!kim taehyung x warrior princess!reader, smut, angst, fluff, forbidden romance, dragon shifter!au, royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au

>> summary: "two kingdoms, two hearts and the world between them. your whole life has been a challenge, never an easy moment on your road to becoming queen but will one decision, one encounter with the man you were destined to hate, change the fate of your worlds, forever?"

welcome to namfinessed's world aka your favourite 45-minutes-before-bedtime!

here's a link to all my works.

here's my most recent works:

ex-things - m.yg.

good "friends" - jennie.kim.

come closer, come closer - k.nj.

here's my most popular work!

from me to you; hello this is kel aka namfinessed, i've been writing on here for very long but only recently, i decided to jazz things up a bit and give my account a revamp! i adore every single one of you who have read my work and hope to see all of you in my future works as well. requests are open for one shots, drabbles but i will be taking my time with it as i am a university student. here's to a new start to my account for this new year of reaching more wonderful readers, love you <3

all stories  ∘  writing playlist  ∘  writing games  ∘  license  

feel free to send me a message if you want to know how heavy the angst is or if there is a happy ending for a story in particular, I will be happy to clear it up and answer any of your doubts. thanks and happy reading!

{✯} personal favorites

⇢ jeon jungkook | reader

∘   blue orchids ✯       ↳ soulmate & hanahaki au | angst & fluff | drabbles: moonlight, home after rain ∘   first light (feat. taehyung)     ↳ hotarubi no mori e au | angst & fluff ∘   the swirling ways of stars     ↳ fantasy au | angst & fluff ∘   written on the sky     ↳ ‘seeking a friend for the end of the world’ au | mostly angst, bits of fluff ∘   the train of lost souls (feat. hoseok) ✯     ↳ fantasy au | mostly angst, hints of fluff ∘   now we dream apart     ↳ soulmate au | angst ∘   below thunder showers (feat. yoongi) ✯     ↳ sci-fi au | angst, drama, thriller, bits of fluff ∘   water ripples     ↳ christmas themed | fantasy au | mild angst and fluff

⇢ kim taehyung | reader

∘   first light (feat. jungkook)     ↳ hotarubi no mori e au | angst & fluff ∘   drumming song (m)     ↳ dark fantasy au | angst ∘   ballade to the dawn (m)     ↳ christmas themed | idol & songwriter au | fluff, soft angst ∘   limbo     ↳ guardian angel au | angst ∘   away from the sun ✯     ↳ soulmate au | mainly fluff, hints of soft angst ∘  danse macabre (m) (coming soon)    ↳ horror & paranormal au ∘  fly me to the moon    ↳ fantasy au, magician au | fluff

⇢ park jimin | reader

∘   the blue notebooks     ↳ time travel au | soft angst, hints of fluff ∘   lavender hues (m) ✯     ↳ fantasy au | angst & fluff ∘   your silent portrait (coming soon)     ↳ fantasy au | based on koe no katachi | angst and fluff ∘   the waltz between us ✯     ↳ christmas themed | fantasy au | angst and fluff

⇢ min yoongi | reader

∘   below thunder showers (feat. jungkook) ✯     ↳ sci-fi au | angst, drama, thriller, bits of fluff ∘   without the stars     ↳ slice of life | angst ∘   the raindrop prelude     ↳ pianist au | angst & fluff

⇢ jung hoseok | reader

∘   the train of lost souls (feat. jungkook) ✯    ↳ fantasy au | mostly angst, hints of fluff ∘   gold and silver     ↳ medieval & fantasy au, based on game of thrones | drama, angst, romance

⇢ ot7 | reader

∘   a requiem of time (coming soon)     ↳ immortal oc au | angst & fluff

▲ member | member stories: AO3.

If you like my fics without reblogging, I block you. Simple as that. Reblog fics.

They’re so chaotic and fun together and I need more

Eventually (Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Coriolanus could appreciate irony, but the one person he desires more than anything wanting nothing to do with him pushes him to new territory

Tags: (18+), cw: noncon, dark!coriolanus, deeply implied stalker!coriolanus, unreliable narrator coriolanus (boy is delusional tbh, no one is doing more mental gymnastics than him), pre-mentor era, obsession, unprotected sex, choking (only for like a second), virginity status undisclosed but as I was writing I began to imagine this being the first time for both of them—it’s not even implied tho, so do with that what you will

A/N: a character as evil as him I couldn’t conceive writing fluff for. he’s bad and guess what I’m not gonna fix him, but I also can’t make him not-hot so… hehe. please read the tags and proceed with caution <3

Masterlist

You wanted nothing to do with him, and that made him crazy.

No, if anything, you were the crazy one. Coriolanus hadn’t done anything but try to be your friend, but you snubbed him without reason.

Coriolanus did a good job at keeping the financial situation of his family a secret. No one knew, and he doubted you were an exception. Yet, it was as if you looked down upon him.

Although, you’d grown fond of Sejanus, so even if you did know, status wasn’t a concern of yours. It was something he admired, yet questioned all at once. There had to be a reason for your dismissal. A reason you couldn’t bring yourself to even offer a smile back. It’s not like he was asking a lot.

It’s not like he wasn’t trying, either. He’d gotten used to trying to make people like him, to see him as better than he was, but it was never this hard. It would’ve been so much simpler if you just told him to his face what your problem was, but whenever he came around, mostly when you were talking to Sejanus—they were friends, it was the perfect excuse—you just went quiet. You’d greet him, make no effort to continue the conversation, then excuse yourself.

All Coriolanus wanted to know was why.

“You’re watching her again,” Clemensia whispered to him, eyes flicking between him and the paper in front of her.

They were class partners, but Coriolanus was beginning to think he spent too much time with her.

“Who?”

Clemensia let out a small chuckle, mocking him. The professor at the front of the class looked up, and Coriolanus quickly looked down at his paper, taking his eyes off of you.

“You’re too obvious,” she muttered, a smirk in her voice. “Maybe that’s why she doesn’t like you. Because you stare at her too much.”

She didn’t get a response—it didn’t deserve one. Coriolanus questioned why he ever told her anything. She made him sound like some sort of stalker. Which, for the record, he was not.

His eyes managing to find you frequently wasn’t a crime, and neither was crossing your path. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence most of the time, but it’s not as if he was harming you by watching you. He doubted you noticed anyway.

Seeing you nearly everyday had been enough to keep him sated, but then Sejanus started talking about you. Through no fault of his own, Coriolanus learned things about you. What he came to know made him curious to discover more. Even if you did not seem keen to let him.

Being content with what he had didn’t keep its appeal for long. Not when you were right there, your presence taunting him. Making him want what you would not let him have.

“You just need to talk to her, Coryo,” Tigris told him one evening, when he revealed everything to her. “Not in class and not with Sejanus. Just you. Let her know the real you and I promise she’ll like what she sees.”

Coriolanus took his cousin’s advice to heart. She was much more empathetic than him, she had to be onto something, right?

Everything changed when Coriolanus sat across from you at a study table in the library.

As beautiful as you were from a distance, being up close was something else entirely. He could admire you for hours and never get tired.

You looked up at him, he smiled and said hello just like Tigris advised. The smile you returned seemed forced, and you ignored that he had spoken.

It upset him, but not as much as when you got up and walked out. It was the last straw. Coriolanus was following you into the hall before he could think better of it.

He caught up to you, dropping his hand to your shoulder to make you turn around and face him. When you did, you looked surprised. That wasn’t what made Coriolanus hesitate, but the realization that he had never been this close to you before. Not even sitting across from you compared to touching you.

His heart skipped a beat.

“What do you want?” you questioned, a level of annoyance he thought to be unearned in your voice.

His heart started again.

“Have I done something to you?” Coriolanus confronted you, feeling a familiar sense of agitation creep over him. He had to know. “To make you feel such distaste for me?”

“I don’t dislike you, Coriolanus,” you replied, calmly after recovering from your initial shock. “I’m just… indifferent to you.”

The answer confused him more than it did enrage him. He smothered the latter feeling as he observed you.

“You’re… indifferent,” he stated, not asking. His feet shifted beneath him. It hurt, for some reason. “Why?”

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly, studying him. It was the same way you’d look at your books when you were struggling with a subject, lingering behind in class or the library until a triumphant smile crossed your face.

Only, that smile never came. Your expression just faded back to normal.

“You shouldn’t put so much weight on what other people think of you,” you advised, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his chest. You smelled sweet, like flowers. “Especially not someone you don’t even know.”

It was then, he realized, you hadn’t moved closer to him with purpose. You’d been on your way moving past him. His eyes focused on your back as you walked away, figuring out what to say.

“I’d like to know you,” he announced earnestly, verbally trying to pull you back. “If you’d only give me a chance.”

You slowed to a stop, looking over your shoulder. Coriolanus felt as if he was on display as your eyes raked over him, determining for yourself his sincerity.

“You’re friends with Sejanus, aren’t you?” you wondered. It wasn’t what he expected, but Coriolanus nodded. You sighed, which irked him to think it was pity. “If you’d like to join us for lunch I wouldn’t be against that.”

“I’ll see you then,” he said, but you were already turning away. He kept to himself that he had already tried in the past.

His friend was nice. Too nice for his own good, truthfully. It wasn’t as if Sejanus completely abandoned him the moment he befriended you. It was more like he split his time, attending to both friendships. The only thing Coriolanus held against him was that he never tried to reintroduce the two of you. Maybe even put in a good word.

At lunch Coriolanus found you and Sejanus quickly, he knew where you liked to sit.

“Hey, Coryo,” Sejanus greeted, smiling. “About time you decided to join us.”

Coriolanus put on a smile as he sat down. “Well, I would’ve sooner, but I wasn’t sure I was welcome before.”

The comment made you smirk, in on the joke as Coriolanus looked at you.

“Who’s to say you are now?” you sarcastically replied, as if you hadn’t been the one to invite him.

Well, “invite” was being generous, but he still seized the opportunity nonetheless.

“Ignore her, she can’t help herself,” Sejanus said with a chuckle, used to your humor.

This time, when he tried to talk to you, you engaged. In between discussions of classes and assignments, Coriolanus had to dodge your quick wit.

He liked the challenge, and the next day, he went back for more. Even walked right past Clemanisa and Arachne, who tried to invite him to their table with Festus. You were waiting for him.

He noticed you and Sejanus already talking.

When he sat across from you, you raised your brows. “Seeking refuge?”

Before he could ask what you meant, you nodded your head towards the girls he’d left behind.

You knew about his friends?

“You could call it that,” he replied, a smile starting to appear.

You nodded and hummed.

“Well, what are your qualifications?”

“Excuse me?”

“You joke too much, Y/N,” Sejanus lightly scolded you, interrupting whatever path you were going down, which made you laugh. “He’s going to think you don’t like him.”

“He knows I don’t mean anything by it,” you assured, looking at Coriolanus. “I’m just trying to figure him out.”

Your tone was filled with confidence, but your face… Coriolanus wasn’t sure how to place your underlying expression. You had a shield up, he knew that much, but what did that have to do with him? Were you trying to figure out if you could let it down for him? Or something else?

“Of course,” Coriolanus answered, not taking his eyes off of you. “I’m an open book.”

“Are you, now?” You folded your arms on the table. “Your friends love to gossip, and I don’t think I’ve heard that about you.”

“It’s not my fault if they don’t know how to read,” Coriolanus quipped, proud of himself for being so quick.

None of his friends had wronged him, but the joke at their expense was worth it for what followed after.

He made you laugh. Not just smile, but truly laugh. It was exactly what he wanted, and it actually worked. Awe didn't begin to describe how it felt.

Joining your table for lunch became the best part of his day. Sometimes he forgot Sejanus was even there, far too eager to see you. He saw you all the time, of course. Watching you was a habit he had yet to break, but this was different. You were aware of his presence, and he was able to speak to you. It didn’t matter that you still seemed weary, it was enough.

Even if you didn’t like him, you still had conversations with him, so that was something.

Sometimes, if you were deep in a discussion, debating ethics—your favorite topic—it would continue beyond just the table. He’d walk you to class, wanting to hear your voice just a second longer.

“I want to meet this girl,” His grandmother declared one night, after Coriolanus drifted to the topic of you over dinner. He’d been doing it more recently.

Tigris gave him a look, a light frown. There was no way to do that without you coming to his home, and he wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Let Coryo decide that, Grandma‘am,” Tigris insisted, patting the older woman’s shoulder.

“Well, he has feelings for Y/N,” she argued, looking at Coriolanus. He used your name enough that she remembered it. “And she likes him too—doesn’t she?”

Coriolanus gave a tight smile. “Yes, she does.”

Keeping up appearances.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Grandma‘am decided.

“I think it’s time you get to bed,” Tigris intervened, getting their grandmother up from her chair.

Later, when they were alone, Tigris asked him, “Does she even know how you feel about her?” She knew him too well. He took too long to answer. “You should tell her. From what you’ve told us, you two should be together. But it won’t happen unless you make it known how you feel.”

Coriolanus’s dreams were filled with you, as they usually were, but something was different the morning he woke up after the conversation with Tigris.

All he had to do was prove himself to you, and he knew that now.

Coriolanus found you in the library a lot, often pretending to stumble upon you. This time, he didn’t put on a facade.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he acknowledged, sitting down beside you. Often he’d sit across, but he was testing the waters. Seeing if you were put off by the proximity. “Studying for Featherly’s class?”

“I’m terrified for his test,” you confided, rubbing your temples as you hunched down at your book. “I feel like my mind has no room for anything else. I’ve memorized nothing.”

With a sigh, you sat up and pushed the book away.

“I can help you,” Coriolanus insisted, reaching for the book. He read over the page you were on, knowing he’d already perfected the subject. “You should’ve asked for me sooner.”

Maybe it was a little spiteful, but he hadn’t purposely meant it to come out that way. You still noticed it, taking your book back.

“I’m not asking for your help now, Coriolanus,” you muttered, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

You were the last of his friends to still call him that. Most everyone else called him ‘Coryo’. Not you. But you were stubborn in many ways. This too, apparently.

“I didn’t mean anything against you,” he said lightly, even chuckling a little. It was forced, but he wanted to show he wasn’t being that serious.

Using your own words on you did not have the desired effect.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed.

Coriolanus tilted his head down, trying to get you to meet his gaze. You gave in, facing him, looking unamused.

He wanted to wipe that look away, but didn’t know how. If he could just make you like him—

Suddenly, your watch began to beep.

“Test time,” you grumbled, taking back your book and getting up.

Coriolanus followed you down the hall and into class. The tests were already on the desks, waiting. You two were early—he noticed that because of the clock on the wall.

He walked you to your seat and wished you good luck. To his surprise, you offered the same in return. Then, he went to his own. Other students filed in quickly after, professor Featherly being the last to enter the room.

The professor declared, “Begin,” then sat at his desk in the middle of the room and began to read.

The test wasn’t easy, but Coriolanus knew what he was doing. One look around the classroom and he saw that wasn’t the case for most other students. He felt a sense of pride, until his gaze landed on you. You were one row down and four seats to the left. He’d counted before. You were fiddling with your pencil, struggling to come up with what to write down.

While he could’ve been the first to finish, Coriolanus let other students turn their tests in before him. An hour passed by, but it moved quickly.

There were only a few students left when you finally got up. You radiated an anxious energy, much like the others, but Coriolanus didn’t care about the others.

Clemensia stuck her hand up in the air, waiting for the professor to notice her, distracting Coriolanus briefly. When the professor looked up and noticed her, Clemansia got her wish.

Coriolanus considered himself lucky, convincing himself with his own mantra frequently. As he watched you leave your test on Featherly’s desk and rush from the room, he realized how he could help you.

He quickly marked down the rest of his answers, having stalled so he could leave when you did. The professor was making his way away from the desk, while Coriolanus got up and went in the opposite direction.

With a swift, hard kick to the leg, the professor's desk wobbled and papers spilled off on the other side. It looked like an accident.

Featherly looked over his shoulder at the noise.

“Sorry,” Coriolanus apologized, kneeling down behind the desk to collect the papers.

Without anyone watching, he found your test. He had no time to change the written questions, but he made quick work of erasing and re-doing the multiple choice, with his own test and knowledge as reference.

He had to give you credit for getting a decent amount correct, but not enough for a passing grade.

When Coriolanus fixed that, he stacked together the papers and placed them back on the desk and exited.

Everyone was waiting in the hall. Against tradition, the professor graded tests directly after and would call students in to give the results. It was time consuming, and kept everyone on campus after hours, which was against the rules, but perhaps he’d gotten some kind of exception.

You were leaning against the wall opposite of the classroom, talking to some girl from the class—Coriolanus didn’t bother to learn her name. He wanted to go to you, but Sejanus got to him first instead.

“How do you think you did?”

Coriolanus shrugged, looking down at his friend. “Fine, I think.” That was the humble answer, right? “How about you?”

“Not perfect, but I passed.”

Clemensia trotted out then, a confident look on her face.

“What was so important you had to ask during the test?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but wonder. She’d unknowingly helped him, after all.

“Just clarity on a question, wanted to make sure I got it right,” she answered with ease.

“And did you?”

She gave Sejanus a look.

“Yes, of course.”

The last person exited the class, and professor Featherly closed the door. And so the grading began.

One by one, the professor called people in. There was no method to the order, it seemed likely he shuffled the papers or chose which one to grade next at random.

Time passed, Coriolanus didn’t know how much exactly, but it was beginning to get dark outside. Tigris would be worried until he got home, but she’d understand. His studies came first.

Eventually, Coriolanus realized it was dwindling down to be just you and him left. He was lucky today.

The third to last student was in the classroom, leaving you across the hall from one another.

You pressed your lips together before speaking.

“Do you think you did alright?”

The corner of Coriolanus’s lip twitched up at the sound of your voice.

“Yes, I think so,” he answered humbly. “What about you?”

You let out a self deprecating laugh. “When I said I was terrified, I wasn’t being dramatic.” You sighed, accepting your fate. “I’ll have to do perfect on the next one, I guess.”

“I can help you with that,” Coriolanus offered.

The smile he gave you spawned a mirror reaction. He knew he was charming, he had to be, and this time you actually seemed receptive to it.

“Maybe you can.”

The sound of a door opening made Coriolanus turn. Arachne was leaving, a smug look on her face as she thanked the professor.

Then the door closed, and the professor graded another test. There were only two left.

“I wish he wouldn’t do it like this,” you filled the silence. “The others don’t make us wait like this.”

“It builds suspense, I suppose,” Coriolanus mused. “Keeps us on our toes.”

“That’s not something I need right now.”

“At least you have good company,” he noted flirtatiously. He couldn’t help but grin at his own words, especially when you bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“Could be worse, I supposed,” you retorted.

More time passed. The door opened again.

“Coriolanus Snow,” the professor addressed him next. “Your turn.”

As expected, Coriolanus did close to perfect. One answer off. Best in the class.

Back in the hallway, when he was done, Coriolanus waited with you. He didn’t announce he was staying, he just returned to his spot against the wall.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting. How did you do?” you asked, departing from the wall.

Coriolanus wondered where you were going, but then, you stood next to him, leaning back against the wall. There was still an arms length between the two of you, but it was something. You’d gone to him for once.

“You’ll think I’m full of myself if I tell you,” he teased lightly, which made you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I already think that, so just tell me,” you insisted.

The comment made him falter.

“Best in the class,” he divulged.

You almost looked impressed. “Good for you.”

The door opened.

“Y/N L/N, you’re up.”

“Wish me luck,” you said under your breath before following Featherly in.

“Good luck.”

Coriolanus waited for you, just like before. He tapped his foot. The professor didn’t actually go over the answers, he just told you the grade. You’d have no way of knowing what he did for you, but he’d be there to share in your excitement when you discovered how well you’d done.

Or, how well he’d done for you.

Not long later, you and the professor exited the class together.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here,” Featherly addressed Coriolanus. “You should get going. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Then, he left you and Coriolanus alone in the hall, presumably leaving the building.

“So,” Coriolanus began with a smile. “How did you do?”

“He asked if I’d been studying with you. Apparently we had all the same answers,” you told him, crossing your arms. “Except when I asked him to show me my exam—which I did great on, apparently—I saw answers circled that weren’t mine.”

Coriolanus hadn’t expected you to find out so quickly, but a part of him was relieved you did. It meant he got to take credit, and he could show you that he really did want the best for you.

Or, he could always lie.

“You weren scared of failing,” he finally admitted. He offered a sympathetic smile. “So I helped.”

“No, you cheated!” you accused, causing his eyes to go wide. “You’ve implicated us both. If anyone finds out…”

“Don’t be so loud,” he hissed out in a whisper, stepping closer to you. The professor could still be in the building. He doubted anyone else would be. “I just wanted to help you, okay? You needed it, so I—“

“You helped, I get it. But I didn’t ask you to do that for me, Coriolanus. I have never asked you to do anything for me,” you sneered, somewhere between offended and betrayed.

He saw the way you scanned his face—his eyes. The pleading was beginning to seep through.

A wave of realization washed over you before he even opened his mouth.

“You didn’t have to ask me to,” Coriolanus said meaningfully, stepping closer to you. “I wanted to. I wanted to help you.”

You back hit the wall. The hallway was so empty it seemed as if the subtle sound still echoed.

“I’d do anything for you, don’t you get that?”

The sound of a large door closing carried from a distance.

Coriolanus reached for your face, wishing he could take away the concern that riddled your expression. Instead, he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face.

You swallowed. Why did you look so nervous around him? You were friends now, weren’t you? You never looked scared around anyone else. Why him? Why now? His own questions frustrated him.

“We’re not supposed to be on campus after hours,” you said calmly. It was the same tone you used when you first described your indifference to him. Coriolanus thought about that moment a lot. “Featherly already left. We should leave before we get caught.”

The corners of his lips twitched down.

“We’re still talking, though, aren’t we?”

You let out a shallow breath. You had no reason to look as scared as you did.

“I think we’re done.”

Coriolanus thought back to his cousin’s advice. He could’ve followed it better if she’d written it down, perchance.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Coriolanus pondered, smiling to himself at the sight of you. “You caught my eye from the beginning and I—I couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with me.” You watched him carefully. He wondered if you could sense the dejectedness brewing. “Did you see something in me? Is that it?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted under your breath. “People like you, and you’ve been making an effort to be my friend, so I don’t know what told me to stay away from you, but something did. I’ve tried to ignore it, but I still…” you swallowed. “I don’t know.”

The confession should’ve been a relief. That’s what he imagined it would be. That you would admit the truth, and he could fix whatever misconceptions you had.

Coriolanus did not know what to do with “I don’t know”.

Staring down at you, Coriolanus noticed your back was against the wall. Literally. He hadn’t meant to put you there, but he had.

It got you to listen, didn’t it? He’d gotten an answer?

“Can we start over?” Coriolanus suggested, even throwing in a smile that would charm most anyone. It worked on you before. “We can forget all this mess.”

You blinked. You didn’t believe him.

For most people, he wouldn’t simply let numerous slights go, but for you, if it would fix whatever this was, if it meant the two of you could have a real chance, then he’d overcome his instincts—old and new.

“I’m afraid my memory is too good for that,” you finally said, looking up at him with defiance.

Defying what, was the question. It wasn’t as if you were enemies.

The thought made his jaw clench. He let out a laugh that was sharp. It lacked any sense of humor.

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?”

Your brows arched up, questioning him.

“That was supposed to be an apology?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “But it’s not as if I owe you one.”

“I never said you did. I never said anything. You took it upon yourself to insert yourself into my life and now you are not happy with your place in it. You’ve overstepped, and you need to let me leave.”

Coriolanus frowned.

“You act like I’m keeping you here by force.”

You look up at him, silently telling him you believed he was.

That frustrated him further.

In an act that jarred even him, Coriolanus pressed his palms against your shoulders and pushed you back against the wall when you tried to move away.

“This is force,” he declared sternly, leaning down, making you maintain his gaze.

Everyone liked control, but he hadn’t used it in such a physical way before. It thrilled him in an odd way.

“Get your hands off me.”

“Why should I? You already think so poorly of me, why not let you be right?”

You moved again then, trying to catch him off guard and squirm away. But Coriolanus was quick to shove you back against the wall.

“We can still start over. If you would give me a chance, I think we can be good together.”

He let one hand rise to rest on your cheek. Your skin was so smooth. He inhaled deeply, resolve slipping further as his eyes fell to your lips.

If Coriolanus could just prove it to you, he was sure you’d understand what he meant.

He leaned in cautiously, gauging your reaction. You didn’t flinch away. You tilted your chin up, even. That familiar skip of his heart returned.

Coriolanus’s lips only just brushed against yours before you reacted. He had a second of relief before you brought your knee up, jabbing him in the lower stomach, although he doubted that was where you were aiming. It was still enough of a shock to throw him off his game. He stumbled back, and in a flash, you were gone. You were running down the hall—trying to get away from him, like usual.

Only this time, he didn’t feel like letting you go.

Something he had slowly come to learn was when he wanted something, it wasn’t just going to be handed to him. Vying for the Plinth Prize highlighted that, alongside his childhood.

He caught you easily, hand snapping out like a snake to grip your arm and yank you back to him. You collided with his chest. It was like you weren’t even trying. Not really. Just toying with him.

“Am I a game to you?” Coriolanus hissed into your ear, wrapping you in his arms. “Something for you to play?”

“I haven’t done anything to you! I hardly even know you!” you defended, but it just made him hold you tighter.

“I know you,” he implored, fighting against your squirming. He lost balance and when you fell to the ground, you took him with you. Coriolanus got you onto your back, sitting on your thighs, gripping your wrists in his hands to keep you from swinging at him. You let out panicked breaths, staring up at him. “I know more than you think.”

Something about the position made the front of his pants begin to feel constricting.

“Coriolanus, you’re frightening me,” you enunciated, as if trying to reason with him.

“I’m not being unreasonable,” Coriolanus grit out, working to maintain his composure.

“What?” you questioned, brows pinching together, a deep frown on your face. Confused and scared. Coriolanus used to feel that way. “Just let me go.”

“And then what? You go back to ignoring me? No I can’t… I can’t go back to that. If you just give me a chance I can show you.”

Coriolanus didn’t know what happened next.

Tigris told him it was like he left his own head, sometimes. She said he’d get so caught up, he wouldn’t notice things. At the time he had laughed. If anyone stayed aware, it was him.

It wasn’t that he left his head, but got lost in it. Lost in his own inner monologue to realize what he was doing.

In this case, what he’d done.

Far too busy thinking of ways to convey everything he wanted to say to you, how to make you understand, visualizing your reaction, he’d already acted.

Maybe there were two people living in his mind. One with a conscience, one without. Or perhaps that was just something he used to justify his less than decent actions. An excuse. He’d never let himself know the truth. Not really. Not yet.

What he did know was what he could see. You, beneath him, clothes torn from your body. The only thing left was a shirt. Too much effort, apparently. Your wrists were snatched together in one of his hands.

The power stirred something within him.

One might say he was out of excuses when he reached for the zipper of his pants, but no one else was here, were they?

Your mouth was moving. Speaking. Maybe even yelling. Looking at him, looking around the room. He couldn’t hear a sound but his own heart thumping in his ears paired with his own eager breaths. Was that normal?

He moved, wedging himself between your legs, nudging them apart to make room for himself.

“It’s just us,” Coriolanus spoke, loud enough to hear himself. You flinched. “No one’s here.”

He gripped himself, stroking his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. His patience was running incredibly thin.

Tears pricked in your eyes. You stopped struggling at his words, accepting it for what it was. Good.

“Why are you doing this?”

He heard your voice clearly, that time, despite the strain in your tone.

Coriolanus observed you carefully, squeezing your wrists together in one hand and lovingly caressing your hip with the other.

He finally understood the answer you’d given before. He found it fitting now.

“I don’t know.”

To him, it was the truth.

The moment Coriolanus pressed himself inside of you, it was as if the rest of the world disappeared. After so long of wanting you in every way, shape, or form, this was long overdue.

“You’re perfect for me,” he breathed out. Coriolanus gave a shove of his hips, his gaze falling to your mouth as an unwilling yelp slipped out. “I knew you would be.”

You were tight, too tight, even. Unwelcoming. Yet still, you felt like home.

His hand—the one that was on your hip—drifted between your legs. He found your clit, running his thumb in small circles, trying to ease the pressure you must’ve been feeling.

Coriolanus did not want to hurt you.

He looked into unfocused eyes. Where were you? Were you trying to be somewhere else?

He let your hands go. You didn’t move to slap him or shove him or anything. You were learning.

He leaned over you more, reaching for you face with his now free hand, and ran his thumb over your cheek, encouraging your gaze to actually meet his. He smiled softly when you did. You got more beautiful every second he looked at you. It was even better when he could see you were present.

Coriolanus found himself unable to resist it, so he gave into the urge to press his lips to yours. A real kiss, this time.

Your lips were softer than he’d imagined. You made a noise when his tongue tasted your mouth. His kiss was hungry—aggressive, even. But he’d waited so long he didn’t know how to contain himself.

Your body reacted to his touch. Your bent knees inched up his hips to accommodate him, and your walls were becoming slick, accepting the invasion.

A deep moan escaped him, cock throbbing inside you at the feel. The sound was muffled by his lips pressed to yours, but he still felt vulnerable, giving himself to you in this way.

Coriolanus pulled back from the kiss, only to rest his forehead against yours and breathe out a small puff of air from his lips.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. Not even the Plinth Prize,” he confessed in a whisper.

“What’s the difference?” You finally spoke, voice wavering. “You have to earn the prize?” The accusing tone felt like a slap.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Coriolanus muttered, eyes boring into yours. “You’ll see.”

He gave you one more searing kiss before moving his hips.

A gasp that morphed into a moan clawed its way up your throat. The sound was like music to his ears. He wanted to hear it again.

He began to move more consistently, finding a pace that suited him. Rough enough to keep you present, but not so harsh as to hurt you. He wanted you to enjoy yourself, even if you were trying to avoid it.

Still figuring you out, Coriolanus found your sweet spot with a hard thrust, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tried to push him away, just like you had before, not wanting to surrender.

You stilled when you felt his hand. He hardly realized how he’d reacted until he felt your throat bob beneath his palm.

Coriolanus retracted his hand, like your skin and shot a volt through him. His movements slowed to a stop.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly, brushing the hand through your hair gently. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Your chest heaved as you breathed shaky breaths through your nose. Your lips pressed together in a line.

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response. In a way, he understood.

Coriolanus locked his arms under your body and in a surge of strength, pulled you from the ground and into his lap. He hugged you against him, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“Forgive me,” he requested softly.

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself to find comfort in the new position. You did not speak.

He slammed his hips up, forcing a gasp from your lips. That was something, wasn’t it?

You pulled back, and he did it again. And again. And again.

You fell against him, jarred by the change in his movements as he thrust into you. He liked it, feeling you in his lap, your chest against his, leaving you no choice but to hold onto him.

His lips latched onto the skin of your neck as he moved, barring his teeth and nipping the skin. You reacted as if he were venomous, straining away from him, but he’d left his mark.

You could pretend all you wanted that you didn’t like him, but Coriolanus could feel your body reacting to his. He could feel the way your walls squeezed around him, drawing him in, and how your body quivered as he pushed you closer to your edge.

“Just let go,” Coriolanus whispered, holding you tighter. He cradled the back of your head against him as he moved inside of you. Soothing and rough at the same time. “It’s okay, I know you want to.”

“Shut up,” you hissed into his neck, hands finding his chest.

Were you really going to try and get away from him? It was a bit late for that.

Coriolanus moved his hand between your bodies, finding your clit with the pad of his thumb, speeding along the process.

“What was that?” he taunted, feeling your legs start to shake.

A moan tore from your throat as you came around him, body slumping against his as he shoved himself deeper inside you. He wanted to feel your body tensed around him.

“That’s it,” he drawled, pressing his face to the side of your head. He inhaled, letting your scent flood him. Every sense was overwhelmed by you and if anything, it made him hunger for even more.

You became more pliable in your daze, going easily when Coriolanus laid you back down on the cold ground. He planted one hand on the ground near your head, where he held most of his weight, while the other rested on the base of your neck. Not squeezing, just resting. Reminding you of before.

Now that he’d taken care of you, made you realize the pleasure he could inflict upon you, it was his turn. Coriolanus was relentless with the thrust of his cock inside you, stretching you around him, groaning with nearly every movement. You felt so good, he never wanted to leave the warmth of your body.

You shifted beneath him, squirming as the intense feeling. Coriolanus was tempted to drag it out, to watch your face as the pleasure became too much for you to handle.

If it wasn’t for the desire to fill you, to claim you, he would’ve. There would be more times after this, he’d ensure it. He didn’t own a lot, but he treasured the things that he did.

“I can’t let you go, not now.” He meant to keep it inside his head, but the words spilled out. “You’re the only thing I want.”

At that moment, it was true.

Coriolanus gave one final shove of his hips before spilling inside of you. It crashed over him in an unexpected wave. His whole body shivered with pleasure at the feel of your body milking him. You wanted him. Your denial would eventually fade. He was sure of it.

Coriolanus let out a heavy sigh of your name as he watched your face. You’d turned your head, wincing as he filled you to the brim.

“Hey,” Coriolanus said when he finished, voice low. He ran a delicate hand over your face, persuading you to open your eyes. “We’re okay.”

As much as he didn’t want to, Coriolanus withdrew from you. You’d given up fighting against him, so he took the opportunity to help you redress. You were so pliant, it was like dressing a doll.

You rested your arms on your knees when he made you sit up. He wasn’t keeping you from moving from the floor, you chose not to.

Coriolanus watched you cautiously, searching for the same fire in you before, trying to figure out if he’d somehow snuffed it out.

There was a nagging in his gut. It was only for a brief second, but his confidence wavered.

“Can you talk to me?” he pressed, laying a hand on your shoulder and he knelt across from you, pants readjusted.

It was as if nothing happened, but you both knew that was untrue.

“Why should I?” You wrinkled your nose as you focused on the ground.

“Because, I care about you,” Coriolanus replied without thought, gaze softening. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t think you care for me,” you said in a tone so hushed, Coriolanus wasn’t sure if you even meant for him to hear. Then, you met his eyes. The fire had only been dulled, not put out. “I think you’re a liar, Coriolanus Snow.”

His hands fell to clasp yours. He brought one to his lips, pressing a small kiss to the back of your palm. You eyed him as if he were some sort of predator, but he managed a smile nonetheless.

“Let me prove it to you, and you’ll come to learn you’ve been wrong about me all along.”

The Promised Iris (Part 1/2)

Pair: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn, Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 20k

Summary: During one rainy summer day at the park, a stranger name Jimin suddenly confesses that he’s in love with you. At first, you thought that Jimin was a stalker, but it turns out that there’s something he’s hiding from you.

You balance yourself by the edge of the sidewalk. It’s been painted in red for ‘no parking’. It’s hard to walk in a straight line with it being dark outside so you walk in a ‘T’ position for balance. There is, however, light illuminating from the restaurant’s entrance doors.

Standing by the door is your father and Lynn, his coworker, standing unusually close to each other, considering that they’re just being friends. You stop walking so you can observe your father holding hand with hers. He leans down and kisses her softly on the lips, then bids her farewell one last time with a ‘I love you’.

Once your father’s trivial conversation with her is done, he walks to you, and you skip to him with a wide, goofy smile on your face. He looks the happiest you’ve ever seen him be, even looking back at Lynn one more time before you try to get his attention.

“Did you like Lynn?” Your father asks you.

You nod excitedly. “Mm-hmm! Mrs. Lynn is a very nice lady. Will we get to meet her again?”

“If you want to, then sure! I’m sure Lynn would love to be friends with you. Come on, let’s go home.”

Your father takes ahold of your hand and walks to his parked car. You playfully hop over the cracks in the black tar as you hum a tune in your head. But your father’s last words to Lynn lingers with you. He said that he loves her, and there’s something about it that disturbs you. You don’t know why he said that to her if they’re just friends.

“Hey Dad?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

“Why did you tell Mrs. Lynn that you love her?” Being the youngster that you are, you couldn’t help but let your curiosity get the better of you. “You said that you only tell it to the person that you like the most.”

Your father is silent briefly before thinking of how to respond to your question. “That’s true, and I do love Lynn. I like being with her and she’s very nice to you, isn’t she?”

You nod, now feeling a bit more hesitant to answer to your father.

“I’m glad that you think that she’s nice. She can become a good mother for you, you know.”

Your smile fades away. There’s a knot in your stomach—your instincts telling you that what your father is doing isn’t right. Even for a five-year-old, you know that this isn’t acceptable.

“But…you always tell Mom that you love her too…and you always kiss her before you go to work. Wouldn’t Mom get mad if she saw you say that you love Mrs. Lynn?”

You feel a tight squeeze around your hand, causing you to flinch. Your father is still smiling, but you can sense that underneath it, he’s beginning to get annoyed with your constant barrage of questions.

“(Y/N), do you remember what I said?”

“…If Mom doesn’t know, then she won’t get angry.”

“That’s right. It’s a secret between you and me, and if you ever tell Mom, she’ll get mad at you.” He points his finger in an accusatory fashion.

Keep reading

made these—and i personally find them stunning.

they are simply majestic

Masterlist

Almost all works are NSFW and therefore minors should not be reading or interacting with these words of fiction.

All fics/AUs are my own work. Please do not steal or translate them. Do not post them onto wattpad. This strictly isn’t allowed. I only have an AO3 account under ‘jamaisjoons’. I have no other accounts.  So if you find any of my work anywhere else, please let me know.

If you are caught plagiarising my work, I will take action. I have spent a long time working on and writing these stories. They have my blood, sweat and tears in them wink wonk.

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© jamaisjoons 2020. All rights reserved. ⏤ Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

 ☾ angst - ☉ fluff - ⁂ smut - ✮ crack

 ✎ In Progress | ✓ Complete | ⊗ Discontinued | ⊖ Hiatus       → only for moreshots/series

➼ Latest      → ‘ find them here ’

➼ Future Works

Keep reading

tolerate it masterlist

⟶ SUMMARY : Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

⟶ GENRE : heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, infidelity, smut

⟶ RATING : 18+

⟶ WC : 6k [ongoing]

⟶ WARNINGS : A N G S T, sadness, heartbreak, one-sided love, taehyung is an asshole, husband!taehyung, infidelity, angst, divorce, more as story progresses.

MASTERLIST ₊˚✧ TAGLIST₊˚✧ PLAYLIST

‧₊˚ CHAPTERS INDEX

⟶ chapter one [ coming tonight (01/05) at 11pm ET ]

Taehyung is your husband, and you love him. If only he loved you back; if only he cherished your love and not tolerated it.

⟶ chapter two [ coming soon ]

Attempting to divorce Kim Taehyung proves to be harder than you thought, especially when your heart gets in your way.

⟶ chapter three [ coming soon ]

The end.

⟶ FAQ ;

when do you update?

i believe chapter 2 will take less time than chapter three, but we’ll see!

how many chapters will this series have in total?

3 chapters!

can i be on your taglist?

of course !! please fill the form on top of the post & i will be adding u <3

Crazy for You | kth

Keep reading

all of you | masterlist

banner by the lovely @kithtaehyung​ 💕​

pairing ↠ ceo!jimin x reader

genre ↠ friends to lovers | arranged marriage AU (fluff, angst, smut)

18+ | series warnings ↠ drinking, swearing, explicit sexual content, an unwanted arranged marriage, pregnancy. (warnings will be more detailed for each part.)

summary ↠ Park Jimin is your definition of perfect. He’s talented, handsome, and dedicated to everything he does, making him the man of your dreams. But what happens when you both wake up one day and realise that’s all you had together…  a short dream?

word count ↠ 115k+

↠  prologue

↠ part 1

↠ part 2 (m)

↠ part 3

↠ part 4 (m)

↠ part 5

↠ part 6

↠  part 7

↠  part 8 (m)

↠ all of you: forever (epilogue)

bonus drabbles: (coming soon!)

# 1 — sweet cravings (m)

# 2 — the first time

# 3 — tobias returns

+ more to come

mini-playlist here!

if you read and enjoy this series, please let me know!  send an ask / message / comment — i love hearing from you! <3

BTS fic recs that turn you into angsty mush [smut, angst]

You know, the angsty, heart wrenchingly beautiful ones. Alt Title: I like to torture myself with emotions bc I have none otherwise.

All romance/smut (Nam2Seok are my bros so no fic recs for them, sorry!). And sorry in advance, angst requires wooooords so these are all long af but so worth it.

🚙 OT7

The Road to You by @bonvoyagenoona​ [series, complete] - all of the things, Odyssey of boyfriends This is my favorite fic I’ve read. I think about it all the time and have reread it a couple of times. Seriously if you love angst, you can’t pass this one up.

✨ Jungkook

Falling by @starshapedkookie​ [one-shot, 31.4k] - soulmate/destiny au Absolutely brilliant take on soulmate universe. Who says your soulmate isn’t someone you choose? This story is brutally angsty and so worth the emotional turmoil. I think about this fic’s concept of soulmate choice so so much and I love the way this ends.

all that glitters by @aquagustd​ (ft. Yoongi) [one-shot, 66k lol] - fuckboy Jungkook This story absolutely tore me apart. Think angst, then multiply it by 1000. I felt that achey emptiness you feel after reading a good book with a happy sad ending.

scattered stars & collision by @taegularities​ [two-shot, 22.5k] - enemies to lovers, soulmates, magical au Love this concept - it’s a really interesting take on Romeo & Juliet. And it’s so beautifully written - full of magical forest imagery and star crossed lovers.

Grapejuice by @starshapedkookie​ (ft. Tae) [one-shot, 36k] - art school au This story is so angsty and kinda just everything. It reminded me of the art students in Neverthless. on Netflix.

Lone Blue Egg by @foxymoxynoona​ [series, complete, read on AOW] - bird hybrid au, penguin Koo Rana is the absolute best with all her chaotic energy. And Koo is so cute once he gets his shit together. Plus all the bird humor. noot noot.

This Mortal Coil by @jinfizz​ [one-shot, 40k] - wolf au, alpha Jungkook, idiots to lovers, friends to lovers Phenomenal writing and story telling. I liked watching these two dummies be oblivious until they couldn’t avoid the inevitable. This was actually the first long BTS fic I read on Tumblr and it got me hooked.

The Boy with Galaxies in his Eyes by @oddinary4bts​​ [one-shot, 52.9k] - idol!au, fwb to lovers Beautiful story about two people who are not ready for a relationship but they find their perfect person anyway (and fight it a lot on the way).

💔 Taehyung

tales of broken hearts by @taegularities​ [one-shot, 24.8k] - exes to lovers, childhood sweethearts Rid is the angsty heartwrenching fic master. I’m slowly working my way through her masterlist. The emotional descriptions in this fic make you feel all of the things. It made me feel like I was watching all of my favorite romance dramas.

paris in the rain by @kookskingdom​ [one-shot, 24k] - strangers to lovers The perfect Paris Tae moment. This story is perfect and so hopelessly romantic and has all the Paris visuals. I love this couple so damn much.

Paper Cranes by @aquaminwrites​ [one-shot, 18.3k] - best friends to lovers Goodness, this one hits all the feels. It has all those angsty longing vibes and this Tae is the ultimate romantic and I live for his long game!

Complete Faith by @daechwitatamic​ [series, 50k] - coworkers to lovers This story absolutely broke me - in a good way I swear. I loved how the characters had their own previous relationship baggage and personal trauma and how they helped each other grow but they also needed to grow individually for this relationship to work.

Kick Up the Fire and Let the Flames Break Loose by @ffion451​ (ft. Yoongi) [series, complete] - enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers A truly phenomenal and angsty story. I don’t have enough words for how OC & Tae’s relationship makes me feel. Also, Taehyung has the biggest BDE and D. The smut in this is unparalleled. (And honestly, I think about this Tae way to often for it to be normal. Like weekly, Ffi. Weekly.)

starstruck by @sugalaritae​ (ft. Yoongi) [series, ongoing] - barista!Tae, unistudent!Yoongi I love how this story dives into anxious thought patterns and not feeling worthy enough for a relationship for so many reasons and for all of the characters. (I’m still rooting for Tae! But also hope Yoongi gets it together.)

rewriting love by @kooktrash​ [one-shot, 12.3k] - webtoon character Tae, soulmates This concept is genius. Star-crossed soulmates destined to live in parallel universes. Your heart will ache after reading this.

💘 Jimin

all of you by @writtenwhalien​ [series, complete] - friends to lovers, ceo Jimin The way the characters are written made me immediately invested in their lives. I was in love, heartbroken, angry for them. Their love is too pure and made my insides flutter.

Serendipity by @sopebubbles​ (ft. Jungkook) [series, complete] - idol au This is so ARMY! It’s written so realistically you can hear the members and just know they would also be making those jokes. And it’s also way too realistic you might hate some of the characters I’m still mad.

of stars erased by @fantasybangtan​ [two-shot, 39.7k] - dystopian Beautiful Romeo & Juliet kind of fic meets apocalypse. Jimin is the sweetest angel and such a little hopeless romantic.

Raise the Barre by @kpopfanfictrash​​ [series, complete] - enemies to lovers, dance academy au I love the theme of sweet Jimin who’s supposed to be this evil rival. This enemies to lovers is so addicting I finished it all in one night.

Yoongi

Countermelody by @bonvoyagenoona​ [series, complete] - enemies to friends to lovers, music producer!Yoongi Okaay. Literally everything about this is incredible. So many existential crises. So much oc angst and figuring out what she wants. Plus producer rapline and a story all about love for music. 10/10.

Away From You by @personasintro​ [series, ongoing] - divorce au, ceo Yoongi This Yoongi is one of my all-time favorites. OC and Yoongi have such a fraught love story that you’re both rooting for them and hoping they break it off at the same time (at least I did). 

VEXED by @taleasnewastime​ [one-shot, 34.5k] - famous actress reader, strangers to lovers This one is a little less love story angsty and more personal angst. OC’s a famous actress who got dumped and things aren’t going so well but in walks our angel Yoongi. Plus super sweet snack bonding.

give yourself a try by @miscelunaaa​ [two-shot, 24.7k] - plus size female reader, coworkers to lovers So much pining, insecurities, internalized fat phobia. This one has the angst and a knight in shining armor Yoongi to the rescue. Loved this story! Plus a The 1975 fic title, what should I say - ugh! this must be my dream. (sorry I had to.)

The Return of an Empress Masterlist

Title: The Return of an Empress

Status: Completed

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut 

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Total Word Count:  280,808

Smut - | ☼ |  Fluff - | ♡ |  Angst - | ☆ |

Keep reading

kel’s masterlist

kim seokjin

watch and learn 

genre: fluff (1.3k)

summary: this is just chaotic fluff.

fools  (fools!universe)

genre: angst, fluff (6.7k)

summary: only fools fall for you.

Keep reading

BTS Fic Recs pt 2

purely because i am trying to keep track of what i have read and want to read in the future lol.

‼️18+ minors DNI, if you choose to anyways, PLEASE be careful. try to heed our warnings, we have them for a reason‼️

teachers pet 8 JK

reflection RM to read

on the borderline JM to read

aim for the heart JK to read

lost and found JM to read

yet to come JK to read

in motion 09 JK

a fine line 12 RM

raise the barre 09 JM im not ready for 3 chapters of angst

last for life 03 JM

flip and reverse it 02 JH

mostly smut ngl :-)

also lots of one shots

recommend:

[not in any particular order] [if any users would like me to remove their post from this list please let me know and i will do so immediately!]

YOONGI:

twirl for me @gimmethatagustd

dilf!au, angst, smut, series (ongoing),

surround me @yoonivy 10k

BFF2l, FLUFF, smut, one shot

swing life away @aphrodijin 5.2k

husband!yoongi, smut, fluff, angst(?), one shot

a boy like you @cinnaminsvga 11.5k

coworkers2l, f2l, FLUFF GALORE, shy awkward yoongi i love him so much, bread cheeks :,), one shot

fxck christmas @haliiimede 23.4k XMAS

old friends2l, yoongi is such a sweetie, fluff, the tiniest angst (idk MC is a lil grinch for understandable reasons), smut, one shot

the singularity theory (AO3) @/dovechim 30.1k

s2l, fluff, smut, yoongi is such a little shit but hes so cute i love him so much

countermelody @bonvoyagenoona 100k

prod!yoongi, CHARACTER 👏 DEVELOPMENT 👏, yoongs so cute, fluff, angst(?), smut, series

aquiver @floralseokjin 86k

idol!yoongi, fluff, ANGST, smut, honestly yoongi was such a sweetie but things turned in the blink of an EYE - idk how it happened so fast but i loved it, series

this christmas @suga-kookiemonster 30.1k XMAS

ex!yoongi, ANGSTTT, smut, i would love to say a happy ending. yoongi and Y/N lack communication🥲, one shot

sunrises and liquor @aamalaaa

barman!yoongi, fluff, angst, smut, nearly everyone is gay, yoongi so hot, yoongi so cute, yknow, the usual, series

SEOKJIN:

raspberry truffles @gukyi 5k

bff2l, FLUFF, jin’s the sweetest dork, fake!dating but not in a making someone jealous way, one shot

dick n go @winetae 12.8k

hook up!jin, crack, smut, one shot,

christmas warfare @gimmethatagustd 14.5k XMAS

exes2l, FLUFF, smut, one shot, jin is honestly the cutest thing ever. one shot

catch of the century @joheunsaram MULTI

30 different fics by 30 different authors to celebrate jin’s 30th birthday. smut, angst, fluff, everything you could ever need. pls show these authors some love!!

knocked @sailoryooons

gamer!jin, roommates2l, fluff, smut, jin is so cute as always

NAMJOON:

the dimple theory @e-cm 18k

university!au, fluff, smut, angst, 2 parts,

all night @luaspersona

s2l, BBF, honestly just pure filthy smut. lil fluff, one shot 12k… 12k all smut. so fkn good 👨‍🍳💋

Hooked @joopiterjoon (AO3, also on tumblr) 103k

s2l, honestly idiots2l, fluff, ANGST, smut, series (completed),

you wanna beat the fuck out of MC in the best and worst ways possible. 2 endings btw.

real magic @here2bbtstrash 16.7k XMAS

s2l, WAHH SOFT JOON, fluff, smut, joon is so awkward like always i love him, one shot

the stand in @yoonia

pregnant!reader, fluff, smut, lil angst, joon best boy, kind of a series- can be read as a one shot

all i need is me @yoonkimint

idol!joon, SMAU, fluff, angst, a lil fast paced but cute asf, i love this joon but he a lil bitch, series

not another holiday romance @kpopfanfictrash 32.2k XMAS

small town hallmark!au, FLUFF, i love historian namjoon so much, angst, smut (at the end)

JUNGKOOK:

across a crowded room @monimonimoon 10.7k

idol!au, angst(?), fluff, smut, one shot

streams and sheets @astralmono 10k

streamer!au, angst :(, smut, one shot

lights out @hobisonlyhope 9k

tutor!au, smut, angst?????, one shot

out of time @97erstan

ex!jk, smut, ANGST (infidelity), mini series, ongoing

risque @mercurygguk

older!jk, smut, fluff, angst, series ongoing,

long way home @sparklingchim

dilf!jk, f2l, angst, fluff, series ongoing

thirteen rounds @monimonimoon 13.2k

boxer!jk, HONESTLY PURE SMUT. LIKE SMUT WITH A LIL PLOT

not my fault @taegularities 12.6k

uni!au, fluff, smut, SIGGGHHHH nerdy jk 🤭🤭

HOSEOK:

started with a spark now we’re on fire @the-boy-meets-evil 6.5k

f2l, smut, fluff, one shot,

blue side @hamsterclaw 7.7k

f2l, smut, angst, lil fluff

sonic rain @jungblue 25k

dancer!au, smut, angst, fluff?, honestly hobi is whipped, one shot

upbeat @/fizzydrink698 (AO3) 12.6k

IDIOTS2l, bff2l, fluff, like the tiniest of angsts, they’re both kinda dumb

keynote @missgeniality 18.5k

s2l, i’ll be straight up. it’s DIRRTY ASS SMUT- that’s all. LOL.

part 2 touchless 8k

perfect dream girl @bonvoyagenoona 35k XMAS

f2l, the cutest hobi fic to ever exist, FLUFF so fluffy, tiny tiny angst, a lil smut, the tannies just want hobi to be happy 😭😭

for the first time (what’s past is past) @candlewaxandp0lar0ids 15.7k

neighbour!hobi, i love them. i love them. i love them. such a cute fic. fluff fluff fluff, a lil smut, tiniest of tiniest angsts.

TAEHYUNG:

love and rivalry @kooktrash 17.3k

e2l, idiots2l, smut. (no angst they’re just idiots) one shot

much better @yoonivy 18k

tatted!tae, tae is a twin, fluff, smut, angst(??), idk i love this tae a lot he’s a lil cutie

part 2

fan service @bangtanintotheroom 30k

camboy!tae. imma be real. it’s 30k words of smut. that’s it. that’s the whole thing.

sweetbitter @rosedtae 16.9k

ceo!tae, e2l, smut, fluff???? angst??? idk i’m bad at tagging.

crazy for you @oddinary4bts 46.8k

idol!tae, bffs brother au, mostly smut ngl, but cute fluffy tae and yeontan, but ofc there’s angst too. one shot

sugar plum wishes @army-author 12.7k XMAS

fairy!tae, fluff, angst(?????????), hes a lil cutie. oneshot

farmer boy i love you @strawberrynamjoon 35k

farmer!tae, FLUFF, honestly i love this tae so much hes such a lil shit, oneshot

JIMIN:

heart wide open @jjiimin

bff2l, soulmate!au, angst, fluff, one shot

let’s get quizzical @taleasnewastime 28.6k

f2l, fuckboy(?)!jimin, small bit of smut towards the beginning, fluff, angst, you want to beat up MC, one shot

dr park with his smiley faces @1uvtae 8.8k

dr!jimin, s2f2l, angst(?), fluff, one shot

oh what a world (AO3) @/cutechim 141.4k

idol!au, s2l, angst, fluff, smut, series, WAAHHH i loved this so much so cute for no reason

starlight starbright @readyplayerhobi 17.5k

dad!jimin, s2l, fluff, smut, one shot, jimin and his daughter are so CUUUTTTEEE bro. his tattoo 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

believe it @writtenwhalien 28.5k

sort of high school! au, s2f2e2l, fluff, angst, smut, jimin just wants to protect reader :,)

the boyfriend concept @kpopfanfictrash 22k

pornstar!jimin, fluff, angst, smut, honestly the cutest ending ever

shake shack @kth1 14.4k

acquaintances2l, chim is adorable as always, fluff, smut

like i said at the end of my last fic rec post, if any of you have recommendations for me, please send them through!! my inbox is OPEN and i am always looking for more things to read!

IV. Something Has to Change

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

Your friendship with Taehyung starts to show its cracks.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Saturday October 20th

You text Taehyung before going to sleep just to confirm he didn’t die in a ditch, but it’s radio silence from him until almost three o’clock the next afternoon. When he does finally answer you - “alive but at what cost?” - you roll your eyes and turn your phone over, screen down. You’re sitting in the living room, two author anthologies open on the coffee table, bookends to your open notebook. 

Apparently he’s displeased with your silence, because your phone buzzes again a few minutes later - the longer buzz, indicating a call of some kind. With a huff of aggravation, you flip it over to see it’s a video call, his preferred method of communication. You slide the button to accept the call, but let him stare at your ceiling. 

“What?” you demand. “I can’t talk, I have to go call off my search parties.”

“I was asleep,” he defends himself. “I texted you as soon as I woke up!”

“Didn’t sleep last night, huh?” you joke, but the sting is there. Just a little. 

He avoids the question. “What are we doing tonight?”

You laugh at the audacity of his whole existence. Admitting to your face that he’d been up all night with a girl, and then calling you first thing upon waking like he knows you’ll just be there, waiting for him. What would happen if you weren’t?

Not to mention asking what the Saturday night plan is thirty seconds after waking up with a hangover. 

“I’m assuming you won’t want to go out?” you ask. 

He hums, runs a hand through his messy hair. “Depends. I could be persuaded, maybe. Wouldn’t mind just hanging out, though. What about a movie? We have that one we’ve been saving?”

We.

You’re not sure why, today, it’s bothering you so much. The truth is, Taehyung’s acting and speaking the same as always. So what’s different?

You don’t want to examine the answer to that, so you focus on the plan instead. “I like the sound of a movie,” you agree. “Wanna see if anyone else is interested?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “I’ll text everyone.”

“Sounds good. See you around eight?”

“Should we order dinner before that?” he asks.

Something in your stomach turns. You don’t want to. You don’t want to keep getting your heart stepped on. You don’t want his metaphorical scent on all of your clothes, so that you can’t go anywhere or do anything without him lingering on you. 

And at the same time, he’s your best friend. He’s your family. You love him, in multiple ways.

It feels like being tugged in opposite directions. It feels like lose/lose. It feels like there’s no right answer, nowhere to turn, no option that doesn’t hurt.

“Not tonight,” you hear yourself say. “I have too much homework.”

“Okay,” he says easily. “See you around eight, then. I’ll let you know if anyone else is coming with me.”

You try to return to homework after you hang up, but your focus is shot. You lean onto the cushy back of the couch, closing your eyes. You’re still sitting like that when you hear the front door open. Namjoon hadn’t been home when you got up, had been out the whole time.

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

He gives a chuckle. “Everything okay?”

“I think my brain is broken,” you tell him. “Can Edna write about something besides death?”

He huffs out a laugh, and you hear him drop his keys onto the counter. “I think she does,” he says, coming closer and peering at the anthology you still have open on the table in front of you. “Nature. Rebellion. Men. Women. Love. Sex.”

Your cheeks burn, like you’re thirteen damn years old, just from hearing the word sex in his low, steady voice.

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently. 

“I guess so,” you admit. “But today everything I read is about grief.”

“Take a break,” he suggests, moving into the kitchen. You hear a cabinet open and the sink run, and then he comes in carrying a glass of water. He sits down a few feet away from you on the couch and copies your pose, leaning back against the cushions.

It occurs to you that you’ve never sat on the couch at the same time as him before. In fact, your Uber ride last night was the closest your bodies had ever been. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie tonight,” you find yourself telling him. “That new one with what’s-his-face, Raven’s Prophecy? Around eight. If you want to join.”

“Yeah,” he says right away, surprising you. “Sounds good.”

–

The movie’s good  - really good. You’re all crowded around the living room - Namjoon on one end of the couch, Yoongi on the other, you and Taehyung and Jimin on the floor. The coffee table has been pushed to the side to make room for you, the lights turned down. Taehyung is sitting with his back against the couch, legs extended in front of him, and you have a throw-pillow leaning against his knees, laying perpendicular to him. Jimin sits next to Taehyung, one of his legs resting lazily over top of yours.

It feels normal, and it feels nice, and everything weird from earlier seems to float away. Maybe you had just been tired. 

“That’s totally foreshadowing,” you pipe up, raising a hand to point at the screen. “Because when he-.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says loudly, reaching over to flick the back of your arm. “No nerd talk. Just enjoy the movie. No one asked for a literary analysis.”

“But, look -.”

“No,” he repeats firmly, and Jimin giggles, used to this exact squabble. “This is fun, not school.”

“Foreshadowing is fun!” you protest, laughing, but you let it go. 

A second later, your phone buzzes in your hand. 

[9:37 PM] Namjoon: 🤯

You bite back a smile, turning off your screen before the light can catch anyone’s attention, and then you cast your gaze up at the couch to find Namjoon looking right at you, a sheepish smile creeping up on one side of his face. 

You’re thankful for the dark of the room, the light shifting and changing with the scene on the tv screen, as you feel yourself blush. 

God, you think to yourself. Get it together. Two days ago, it hadn’t been like this, where every met glance cues up a shy smile, and each tiny smile elicits a flush. You don’t know who this girl is but she is un-fucking-recognizable. 

You wait a minute or two, then turn your brightness down and send back, “but am i wrong?”. Then you glance back up to watch Namjoon read the text. He gives a laugh, one shake of his shoulders as he sees it, and then he meets your gaze. That same half-smile on his face, he shakes his head imperceptibly. 

Behind you, beneath you, Taehyung shifts and you turn back to the tv quickly, feeling something akin to guilt simmer in your gut. You don’t see his eyes bounce back and forth between you and Namjoon, curious. 

Monday October 22nd

Monday brings bright sunshine despite the chilly air, morning light illuminating the deep reds and oranges of the trees down the block. 

Namjoon finds you in the kitchen, staring listlessly into an untouched cup of coffee. 

“Good morning?” he greets you, a question.

You startle. “Shit!” you yelp and then laugh, heart pounding. “I didn’t even hear you getting ready in there. ”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says apologetically. “I’m heading to campus in a bit… how about you?”

“Yeah,” you say glumly. “I have work and class.”

“Same,” he says, moving around you to rummage for some breakfast. “Class first, and then I’m TA-ing all afternoon.” 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your services today.”

“No?” he asks mildly. “Last few submissions went well?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I’ve written anything worth submitting.”

He laughs, his back to you, and then settles against the kitchen counter. “I can help you brainstorm, too, if you’re stuck.”

You bite back the prideful I don’t need your help that rises to your tongue. He’s being nice. Instead, you say, “Hopefully I’ll make some progress on my own. Have fun, though. You still have that office to yourself? If I had that, I’d be so productive. Nothing to distract me.”

Namjoon shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I find ways. I still have my phone. And a window.”

You laugh at this, and then rise, draining half of your mug of coffee in one go. “I need to head in. Are you leaving now, too? Or, later?”

“I can make now work,” he says, something warm in his tone. “Let me just go grab my bag.”

Out front, you blink against the sudden brightness, holding up a hand to shield your eyes as they adjust. Namjoon locks the front door and comes down the steps at a light jog, stopping next to you.

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, and you start off towards campus in silence, the only noise around you the calls of birds and the hum of car engines from nearby traffic. 

You stop at an intersection, watching the orange hand tell you to wait. “So,” you say, glancing up at him as the cars whiz by, “what’s your book about?”

He looks at you completely blankly, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“For the grad program,” you clarify. “You said you were in fiction, right?”

“Oh,” he says, as if he forgot. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” you say dryly.

“It’s a coming-of-age, I guess,” he says, rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s wearing his glasses today, and you have half a mind to tease him that he’s just trying to look like one of the professors so they don’t kick him out of his hijacked office. “And a bit of an unrequited love story.”

“The good kind or the bad kind?” you ask, a little absently. When he doesn’t answer, you look at him to determine why, and he’s looking at you like you’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

You huff out a sigh. “Like - unrequited because the other person doesn’t know, or because they don’t return the feelings?”

“One of those is the good kind?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“The first one,” you say, as if it’s obvious. “It’s… it always exists only as the idea of love, it’s untarnished, it can remain a beautiful and pure thing. It never gets messed up.”

“But you’re alone,” Namjoon counters. 

“You still love someone,” you insist. “The meaning of life, and all that shit.”

Namjoon shakes his head as the stoplight above you changes from green to yellow, and then to red. “It’s not the same as loving someone and having them love you back, building it together and working to sustain it,” he says firmly. “That’s real love.” And then he heads for the crosswalk, his long legs carrying him swiftly away. 

You hurry to catch up, feet following his without question.

–

The first leaf falls, a warning. Now the rest will follow. I watched them sway all summer. Autumn leaves me hollow.

There’s a promise in the air, I turn towards the icy bite. If autumn can’t make me happy, I wonder if winter might.

Aren’t those frozen days so dark? Isn’t catching snowflakes strange? Perhaps this could be something. Perhaps something has to change.

You frown at the page. Half of you is tempted to take Namjoon up on his offer to workshop during his TA hours, but you’ve got a good reason not to let him see this one. 

“Y/N?” Kris calls from the register at the front of the store. “Did I leave my phone back there?”

Their voice brings you back to reality, pulling your focus from the page of your notebook open on your lap. You’re hiding in the stockroom, sitting on an unpacked box of what you hope are books, trying to cram in some coursework. 

Kris’s phone is indeed on a table behind you, where you sling your bookbag when you come in to start a shift. You rise, slipping your notebook back into said bag and grabbing the phone, walking it out to them. 

You’re alarmed when both phones buzz in your hands, a long, repeating pattern that you aren’t accustomed to.

“What the fuck?” you utter, even though if your boss heard you cursing on the floor you’d get a written reprimand for the first time in your life. 

“Storm alert,” Kris says, reaching one grabby hand out for their phone. You pass it over and press your thumb to your own screen. Sure enough, it’s a severe weather alert. 

You groan. “Great. I walked here.” You try to pull up the radar, but your shitty service takes too long to load it so you switch over to the hour-by-hour. 

“See if your knight in shining armor will give you a ride,” Kris says with a twisted chuckle. 

For a second, you aren’t sure if they mean Taehyung or Namjoon, and that fact is startling. Obviously they mean Taehyung, they know a lot of your history with him and they don't know anything about what’s happening with Namjoon. Nothing is happening with Namjoon, you correct yourself sternly. You had a weird desire to scoot closer while drunk in an Uber and had one sort of deep conversation. It’s not a thing. 

And, actually, texting Taehyung for a ride is a pretty good idea. Outside, it’s not even raining yet, but the clouds hang low and the leaves that have managed to cling to their branches this late into autumn are flipping and shimmying in the harsh wind. 

There’s a long line of students waiting to check out - probably grabbing last minute snacks and drinks before the rain starts, so they don’t have to go out later - so you slide next to Kris at the second register and swipe your access card. You work like this for at least an hour, the rain starting a pace outside the windows as steady as the flow of students trying to get what they need and hurry back to their dorms. 

When you catch a minute, you send a text, holding your phone down under the counter and typing with one hand, as if it isn’t painfully obvious what you’re doing. When the answer comes in, you tap the screen quickly.

[4:22 PM] You: are you still on campus?

[4:31 PM] Namjoon: just finished work. can’t wait to walk back in this…

You giggle and Kris looks at you out of the corner of their eyes.

“That him?” they ask. They mean Taehyung, and you’re too damn aware of the lie as you answer, “Mhm.”

[4:34 PM] You: i’m done in 25 min if you want to suffer together

[4:36 PM] Namjoon: yeah sounds good you can make sure i dont drown lol

An “lol”? Oh, goodness.

[4:37 PM] Namjoon: you’re at the bookstore right? i’ll come there and wait for you

Oh, lord, Kris is going to have a field day with this. You don’t have time to focus on this, as your boss finally sweeps out of her adjoining office, announcing that you need to shut down the second register and finish everything in the back room before your shift ends. She’ll be the one to close the store tonight, as she does on Mondays. 

When you emerge from the back room at 4:59 on the dot, your backpack on your back, Namjoon is loitering near the registers, and Kris is shooting you looks that are somehow mischievous, delighted, and wounded. You have a feeling you’ll be interrogated during your shift on Wednesday.

Outside, the rain isn’t that bad, but it is steady. The wind blowing makes it look like it’s raining left to right, in sheets. 

“We’re gonna be drenched,” you groan. You follow Namjoon out of the bookstore, waving a goodbye at a still-disgruntled Kris, stopping at the glass doors that lead outside. 

“It’s not that bad,” Namjoon tells you, voice a little fond, like he thinks your complaining is cute. “We’ll just go quick. I’m mostly worried about my laptop.”

“Ugh, same,” you lament. “We’d better be fast, I fully cannot afford a new one.”

“Let’s go,” he tells you, and leads you outside. Just like that morning, your feet follow his, like it’s natural. You walk in silence almost halfway home, the pace too clipped to really carry on any kind of conversation. 

You’re practically panting for breath when you hit the major crosswalk, stopping to wait for the signal to walk. The rain seems worse when you’re stopped - sticking your hair to your head where it lands, raising the hairs on your arms as your body gives one dramatic shiver against the chill. Namjoon looks down at you.

“We’re almost there,” he says, reassuring. 

“Mhm,” you manage, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight off the goosebumps. The light changes and you start across, following Namjoon and his naturally long stride. You keep your eyes on the ground, dodging puddles, watching the white stripes pass beneath you. 

You’re just across, stepping up the curb onto the sidewalk, when it happens.

The sky opens. 

One second it’s raining hard enough to be a nuisance, the next second it feels like someone dumped a bucket of water over your head. The sound goes from a soft patter to a sudden roar, like the rain is alive and it is pissed. You splutter, actually blowing water away from your lips, reaching up to wipe your eyes. 

“Fucking shit,” Namjoon swears, and then he grabs your hand and tugs. “Come on!”

He’s not running that fast but there’s still a few seconds where you feel uneven, your gait awkward, trying to match his. Eventually your feet settle into the rhythm and you run just behind him. His hand, so large in yours it's almost swallowing it, is warm and solid and sure. His grip is tight - like he means it. He doesn’t look back as he runs, just squeezes your hand in his and trusts you to keep up.

When you round the corner of your block, together, you try to pull back, try to slow down. Your lungs hurt, your legs are burning, and you just want to admit defeat and walk the block letting the rain know it won.

Namjoon doesn’t let you. He slows his pace to more of a race-walk, gives your arm another playful tug. Not for a single second does he loosen his grip on your hand.  

“You can make it,” he tells you over his shoulder. His hair is flattened from the rain, his face a little flushed from the run, but his dimples wink at you through the deluge.

When he reaches the front of the apartment, he finally drops your hand and takes the steps at a clip. At the top, under the safety of the awning, he turns to see why you haven’t followed him.

You can’t help it - it’s all so ridiculous you have to laugh. Your hair sticks to your face like cooked spaghetti, your shirt clings to your arms, your backpack is dripping water like there’s a faucet in there, and even your socks are wet, making each step you take squelch like mud. Still cackling at the absurdity of this moment, of having been completely defeated by the season, of running all the way home and still ending up half-drowned, you look up at the sky. The rain slides down the sides of your face and you let it cool the heat that’s there from either running, or Namjoon’s touch.

You feel a little drunk from it. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon scolds from the top of the stairs, but he’s smiling that same fond little smile he’d had on movie night a few days ago. “Come inside! You’re going to get pneumonia.”

You look back at him, the rain still assaulting you from above. There’s a second where you feel something. Something like… you’re half-drowned and chilled to the bone, but you feel warm with his affectionate gaze on you. Like you don’t want him to look away and leave you cold again. Like the rain was penance and now you’re all paid up. 

Like for at least this moment, right now, the rain has washed away your histories and left you clean and empty, a blank page waiting for a new story to tell - where before, your pages were full of scribbles and scrawls that held such heavy meaning there was no room for anything new.

You’re thinking too much.

You’re standing in the rain, Namjoon is looking at you like you’re nuts, and you’re thinking too much.

 Watching your feet, you head up the stairs, going through the front door that he’s holding open for you.

You squish your way upstairs, neither of you talking. Inside the apartment, Namjoon flicks on a few lamps.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You should, too.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That was my plan.”

You stand beneath the spray of hot water, tapping on the faucet to work it hotter by degrees, not wanting the temperature to jump and scald you. You feel drained, like your limbs are noodles. You lean your forehead against the tile wall, closing your eyes and just breathing.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to no one, “is going on?”

You wish you had a friend to talk it out with. Kris would go overboard, exploding with glee. Lin isn’t a talk about boys kind of person, or even a talk about your feelings kind. That leaves Taehyung, and the idea of trying to talk to him about your burgeoning feelings for Namjoon makes you laugh out loud, the single syllable echoing off the shower walls, echoing back to mock you. 

When you finally make it back into the living room, hair blow-dried and wearing your fuzziest joggers and a hoodie, Namjoon is tucked away in his own room, the door open that familiar four inches. 

You get settled on the couch and pull out your phone and realize practically with a gasp - you hadn’t even tried to text Taehyung to drive you, nice and dry, back from campus. Your brain had thought but I walked here with Namjoon and the option of “dry” went right out the window.

You cover your face with your hands, sliding down on the couch a little bit. What is the matter with you? 

You feel right now like it’s all happening too much, too fast. What even is “it”? Do you like Namjoon? Despite barely knowing him? Despite having to live with him? 

Despite the years and years of experience you have with loving Taehyung, and Taehyung alone, out of everyone in the whole wide world?

Luckily, Namjoon stays in his room for the rest of the evening, sparing you from any more self-reflection, any more soul-searching. 

You still kind of wish he’d come out. 

Tuesday October 23rd

One of the steady things that you and Namjoon share, that works for you as roommates, is that neither of you cooks. A whole kitchen of pots and pans just to heat up water for tea and ramen and to occasionally cook an egg. 

So when you get home from class on Tuesday so late that it’s already pretty dark out and you hear the clanging and banging from the kitchen that indicates a meal being made, you genuinely wonder if you’re at the wrong door. 

As you push the door open, the noise only gets louder. You round the corner and see the kitchen in chaos - two unmanned pans on the stove, bowls and whisks and colanders and cutting boards all over the counterspace. Namjoon has his back to you, a large kitchen knife in hand. 

You ease around him, not wanting to startle him until the knife is set down. He spots you anyway, and gives you a sheepish grin.

“What… exactly… is happening here?” you inquire. 

“It depends on the scope of your question,” Namjoon answers, because of course he can’t just fucking answer you like a normal person. “If you’re referring to the stove, I am burning some sauce on the left and burning some meat on the right. If you’re referring to the cutting board, I am -.”

“The stove is on fire!” you shriek, pointing, your spare hand flying to cover your mouth in horror. Flames crawl from underneath the pan of meat, over the top, devouring what’s in the pan and leaping into the air. Namjoon drops the knife with a clatter and whirls around, eyes wide. 

“What do I do?” he cries, hands in the air like he’s going to swat the flames like gnats.

“Turn off the burner and smother it!” you cry, not willing to enter the kitchen and get closer to the danger. 

“Smother it?” he repeats, the words a little wild as he screams them. Smoke has filled the kitchen, blurring your view of him, and the smoke alarm over the front door begins to blare. 

“The lid!” you scream, trying to be louder than the alarm. “Turn off the burner and put the lid on the pan! Be careful!”

You add this last part in a shriek as Namjoon follows your directions, reaching towards the flame to twist the burner and then slam the lid over the top of the pan, hissing a little as he does. 

The flames vanish almost instantly, but the smoke remains and the alarm keeps screaming. Namjoon looks at the pan, then his hand, then at you. 

“Go run cool water on that,” you tell him firmly, and you cross the apartment to open the windows and turn on the fans. 

You return to the kitchen to find Namjoon running the sink over his knuckles, brows furrowed.

“Is it bad?” you ask loudly - again, to be heard over the smoke alarm - as you open a drawer and get a kitchen towel, moving to stand in the kitchen’s doorway flapping away, trying to send the smoke towards the open windows. 

“No,” he tells you, pulling his hand out of the stream of water to examine it more closely. “It’s just a little red.”

“Keep it there for a little bit,” you tell him, still flapping away. “I might have burn cream in my bathroom, I’ll check in a second.”

Eventually the alarm quiets and you both heave a sigh of relief. The cold air coming from the open windows chills you down to your toes, but smoke still clings to the room, blurring your vision just enough to wonder if you’re imagining it. 

You find the burn cream in your medicine cabinet and return to the living room. Namjoon is looking at the ruined remains of his dinner with something like heartbreak on his face.

“Come here,” you tell him, sitting at the breakfast bar, ointment in your hand. “Come sit so I can do this.”

“I can do it,” he protests, but he heads your way.

“Sit,” you repeat, pulling out the stool next to you.

He does, silently and obediently, sliding his hand over to you. You can see the redness over his knuckles, middle and index the most. You uncap the tube and squeeze a little onto your fingers, then take his hand in your spare one to hold it steady. Gently you press the cream into his skin, making sure to cover each bit of redness. Namjoon watches you solemnly, wincing a little when your fingers touch his middle knuckle.

“See if that helps,” you tell him, his hand still resting on yours. “Want help cleaning up?”

He sighs heavily, and you both look at the kitchen in defeat at the mess of pans and bowls to wash.

“Do you ever just… miss your mom?” he asks plaintively, not looking at you.

The thing about grief - long-term grief, lifetime grief - is that you can go days, maybe even weeks at a time without noticing it. It’s kind of like a bruise in a hard to reach spot. It just takes one bump in exactly the right place, and it hurts just as bad as day one all over again. Namjoon’s words pierce you, and you take a slow breath. You were just caught off-guard, that’s all. You can be fine. You can be normal.

“Sure,” you say, trying to sound casual. Failing. 

He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “Why’d you get weird?” he asks. “Do you have a bad relationship with your mom or something? I didn’t mean to -.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, but you rise and head for the kitchen, starting to pick things up just to do something with your hands. “It’s just… I don’t have my mom anymore. She passed when I was little. My dad too.” Might as well get it all out there. It felt weird to let someone only know half.

It’s easier to handle this moment with Namjoon in another room. You don’t have to watch him react, don’t have to translate his silence and his body language. You slide all the chopped onion onto a plate just  in case Namjoon still wants to use it, and turn to rinse off the cutting board in the sink. 

He appears behind you, silently lingering in the doorway. “Y/N,” he says softly. 

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you tell him, scrubbing at the cutting board vigorously. You don’t turn to face him.

“I wouldn’t have been so blase about it if I’d known,” he says apologetically.

“I know,” you say. You turn - away from the doorway - to put the cutting board aside to dry. You grab the pan with sauce in it - all congealed and unappetizing now - and move to scrape it into the garbage can. 

He comes up beside you; his fingers touch your elbow, feather-light, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you.

“Y/N,” he implores. “Look at me.”

You do, glancing sideways up at him, the pan heavy in your hand. “I’m not upset,” you assure him. “People just get so weird when they find out. I hate… navigating that, over and over again, with new people.”

He gives you a guilty smile, but there’s relief in it as well. “I will stop being weird immediately,” he promises. “I just felt like I stepped in it, you know?”

You shrug. “It happens to the best of us. It really is fine. It’s been a long time.”

You arm tingles where he’d touched you, but he stays put when you move back to the sink, running the water hot enough to steam before you put the pan under it. Then, wordlessly, he moves next to you, grabbing a cloth and starting to dry the cutting board you’d washed.

You carry on that like that, a perfectly synchronized dance, in silence until the countertop is empty. All that remains is the pan that had been alight about half an hour ago.

“Can I ask you something personal?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you scrape the remains of the charred meat into the garbage with a grimace. “I’m just curious. You can tell me to fuck off.”

“It’s so jarring when you swear,” you tell him.

He grins at you. “Hobi says my surprising potty-mouth is one of my best charms.”

You laugh at this. “I can see that,” you agree. “It is surprising.”

“Not charming?” he teases.

You shrug, feeling that blush rise up again. “No comment. Anyway - what did you want to ask?”

He lets you get away with evading the flirtation. “If you were little… who raised you?”

“Oh,” you say. You aren’t sure what you thought he’d ask, but it wasn’t that. “My grandma, until she couldn’t. Then my Aunt Lin took over, but she’s more like a big sister than anything.”

Namjoon nods. Then he asks, carefully, “Did Taehyung know your parents?”

The question makes you smile at the memories it pulls up - you and Taehyung as kids together, goofing off around your house, back when it had been filled with people.

“Yeah,” you say softly. It doesn’t occur to you to wonder why he’d ask that. It doesn’t occur to you to mask the tiny smile, that it might jostle his feelings even a little bit.

You look over at him when you realize he’s gone quiet. “Are you close with your family?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He nods, eyes on the pan lid that he’s drying. “Very. I was a lost soul when I first moved to campus. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You burned dinner tonight,” you point out. 

“I can do laundry now,” he retorts, smiling at you as you put the last of the dishes away. “I’ve come a long way.”

“Still room to grow,” you tease, reaching out to give his arm a playful nudge.

You’re giving playful touches now. That’s a thing that’s happening. 

You ache, again, to have someone to tell. 

Wednesday October 24th

You both love and hate Wednesdays - on one hand, you have your thesis double-feature, and you actually enjoy it. On the other hand, you go straight from double-class to closing shift at the campus store, and you don’t get home until dark. The day is long, and you’d rather be home. For several reasons. 

Your morning goes as you expect - you make it through the lecture part of class, updating Professor Jemisen on how your research segment is going. During the break, you eat some leftovers you’d thrown in your backpack, and talk with Gloria and the other girls. After the break, your group helps you workshop your latest poem, the one about the season changing, and you do the same for them.

The season changing is happening in real life, all around you. Fall fades quickly, the days darkening, the chills lasting longer, becoming more pronounced. Gone are the autumn days that change their mood and become summer again for hours at a time. 

You normally go straight to the campus store after class, but this week you’re hungry - the leftovers you packed weren’t enough to keep you until you get home. Instead of heading down the main paved path to the student center, where you work, you head for a large academic building you pass on the way there. You know there’s a little sandwich station on the lowest floor, tucked away past the mailroom like a well-kept secret. 

You take a hallway off to the side, passing some open classrooms on your way to the staircase. You’re walking mindlessly, head thinking only about the sandwich you’re going to order. You slow your steps when you hear a familiar voice, low and calm. 

“All I’m saying,” a girl is saying, and you stop in the doorway, listening, “is that while the idea of going to live alone in the woods is actually extremely appealing, Thoreau as a whole kind of sucks.”

“I might agree with you, but you need to frame that more academically,” Namjoon corrects gently.

A circle of students - freshmen, if you had to guess, maybe eight of them, are sitting at desks, their bags all forgotten on the floor by their chairs. Namjoon perches on the edge of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, legs casually stretched out before him. He’s listening intently as the students debate.

“We have to specify the problem,” someone else in the group points out. “I’m all for metaphorically dragging down statues of the patriarchy and everything, but we need a solid argument.”

“Or,” a different girl says, voice just barely loud enough for you to hear from the hallway, “maybe instead of giving more attention to ‘classics’ we see as undeserving, maybe instead we should focus just on the underprivileged voices that we prefer to be amplified?”

“You mean pick a lesser-known author and shed light on their work instead?” Namjoon clarifies, and the girl nods. 

The group begins to debate this passionately, and Namjoon lets them fight it out, taking a second to glance at his phone. You become aware of the fact that you’re just standing in the hallway staring. You’re about to move on when Namjoon notices you. He looks away quickly at first, and then it registers that it was you standing in the doorway like a weirdo, and his gaze flies back to you. 

Caught, you have no choice but to lean into it. You give him a tiny smile, raising a hand in a guilty wave. He smiles back, just barely. You stay there another minute, smiling at each other, while the freshmen continue to argue. Then your feet spur you on, and you give him a little nod before heading down the hall. But the stupid fucking butterflies stay in your stomach the whole time you wait in line for your sandwich.

When you get to the bookshop, you toss your backpack behind the counter and slump onto a low stool that’s stashed back there. You lean your head on the counter next to the currently unmanned register and let out some unhappy grumbles.

Kris comes out from the stockroom - you can tell it’s them by their footsteps.

“What is happening here,” they say flatly, not exactly a question.

“Kriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,” you whine, not looking up. “I think I need to talk about… my roommate.”

“Bitch!” they utter indignantly. “He has a name! What grade are we in right now?”

You stomp your feet lightly, needing to display your crankiness. “I am feeling very confused and conflicted and I need you to be nice to me about it,” you say petulantly, finally picking your head up so you can pout better. 

“Okay,” Kris says easily, leaning against the wall. The shop is devoid of customers, so you don’t bother to lower your voice. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you continue to whine. “It’s just how I feel.”

Kris gives you a level stare. “I need the whining to stop, like, yesterday. If you feel conflicted, there’s a reason. So, figure out what it is.”

“I already said I don’t know,” you tell them, still pouty, but sitting up straight now.

“Dig deep,” Kris deadpans. “Do it for the dimples.”

“Oh my GOD,” you say, unable to even make eye contact. “Never mind, conversation over.”

They shake their head, not letting you off the hook. “What’s the problem, Square?” It’s a nickname they gave you last year when you wouldn’t go partying - because… apparently you’re a square.

“You know the problem,” you grumble quietly, making them lean closer to hear you.

They lean back, something knowing in their eyes. “Ah. It’s the Taehyung factor.”

“Shh,” you scold, glancing around the empty store like someone might have materialized without you noticing. When you return your gaze to them, Kris is just staring at you plainly, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I don’t know,” you say, and then more emphatically, “I don’t know! If I… start something else… does that mean giving Taehyung up? Because I can’t say I want to do that. Not if I’m being honest.”

Kris nods silently, letting you work it out. You meet their eyes, suddenly feeling the squeeze of anxiety around your chest, like your lungs have something heavy they have to push every time you inhale. 

“If I lose him,” you say in practically a whisper, “I will quite literally die.”

Kris scowls at you. “You will not.”

“I will,” you retort. 

Kris gives you an eyeroll. “So dramatic,” they scold. 

“He’s my family, Kris,” you try to explain. “In a lot of ways he’s my only family.” Your voice breaks as you ask, “What if I lose him?”

Now Kris softens, lips pulling together into something like a very pursed frown. “Maybe you should talk to him,” they suggest quietly.

You hate that idea a lot. “Maybe,” you say loudly, slapping your hand on the counter and standing as the bell over the door chimes and a group of lacrosse guys (the sticks are a give-away) enter the store with a burst of noisy chatter, “I should never talk about any of this ever again.”

Kris sighs heavily, practically doubling over. Now who’s dramatic? “You’re so self-destructive,” they complain.

“Don’t be mean,” you say, going back to pouting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kris waves a hand at you. “Go write a poem about it.”

“And what if I do?” you demand, but you’re both laughing now, unlocking the registers as the lacrosse dudes line up to pay for their snacks and drinks.

–

Taehyung texts you near the end of your shift - “we haven’t hung out in five billion years :(“.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and text back, “come get me from the bookstore then and hang out for a little”.

You’re pleased when he agrees. He shows up a little bit before closing, knocking on the already locked glass doors. You hurry to let him in, ignoring Kris staring knives into your back. 

“Hi,” you say happily as he slips into the store, and you lock the door again behind him. “I’ll be done in about four minutes.”

“‘Kay,” he says easily, striding over to the checkout counter and leaning against it. 

“Taehyung,” Kris greets him, nodding their head as they lock the register. “How’s it going?”

He sighs dramatically. “The usual. Classes. Parties. Trying to figure out why Y/N doesn’t love me anymore.”

You freeze halfway to the stockroom, your eyes wide, air catching in your throat. 

Luckily, Kris is and always has been way more slick than you. They cock their head quizzically, letting a playfully concerned frown settle over their features. 

“Y/N doesn’t love you anymore?” they echo, the poor baby pronounced in their tone. “What on earth do you mean?”

Taehyung shoots you a mischievous look; luckily, you’ve gotten your act together since he said those words. 

“I had to beg for her attention tonight,” he says, clearly loving this bit. “I’m beginning to think she has a secret boyfriend she’s not telling me about.”

He’s teasing and you know it, but after a lifetime of friendship with Taehyung, you know this too: there’s a little sliver of him that must be hurt, or at least bothered, or he wouldn’t tease at all.

You feel both caught - despite not having a secret boyfriend or anything like it - and guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just got busy with my thesis and everything. I promise I’m not out with other people and not you. Even Kris only sees me at work these days.”

“And Namjoon,” Taehyung adds plaintively, and your blood runs cold.

“Namjoon?” you echo, not sure you can form a different word.

Taehyung’s pouting now, which means he’s not too serious. “Yeah, he has no choice, you’re in his living room every day.”

“Oh,” you say, relief flooding through you. “Yeah.”

You don’t see the point in telling Taehyung that there’s a teeny, tiny something starting with Namjoon. Not when it’s so… unformed, insubstantial, uncertain. You don’t know which word fits best. It’s a maybe at best, and it just doesn’t seem worth rocking the boat over it. 

What would happen if things started for real? Would you tell him? It shouldn’t have to be a secret… it shouldn’t stay a secret, not if you mean it. What would happen?

You’re afraid to know the answers. 

You finish up in the store and you all head to the parking lot together. You tell Kris goodbye and drop down into Taehyung’s passenger seat. 

“You’re gonna stay at the apartment for a little?” you ask. 

“Mhm,” he says, fiddling with the heat until he gets it how he wants it. “Can I work on homework with you?”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I have so much shit to do. I wasn’t kidding when I said school is eating my life. Senior year sucks.”

Taehyung isn’t looking at you - he’s watching the road as he waits for an opening in traffic so he can pull out of the parking lot. But something crosses his face - relief, maybe. Something softens, anyway. Maybe he really had been hurt that you hadn’t been hanging out as much.

When you return to the apartment, Namjoon isn’t home - his door hangs open, his bedroom completely dark. 

You and Taehyung settle in the living room, dragging out your laptops. It’s nice, hanging out like this again. You hadn’t realized how long it had been - over a week - since it had been just the two of you, like old times. Everything falls right into place. You swap snacks, hands brushing as you both reach into crinkling chip bags. You reach over and type nonsense into his paper when he isn’t paying attention, letting out peals of laughter when he figures it out and starts spluttering at you in outrage. You tell him about the customer at the store who argued with you over - of all the stupid things - a used copy of The Odyssey. 

When he hugs you goodbye at the end of the night, swaying you playfully back and forth like he might drop you, both of you giggling wildly, you’re reminded of just what the stakes are. You’re reminded of just how much you have to lose. 

<- Prev || Next ->

ahhhhh what do we think??!! there was hand holding!!!! are we clutching our pearls??!!!

as always thank you all so so so much for being here, i appreciate every one of you so extremely much!!!

so beautiful 🥹

IV. Something Has to Change

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

Your friendship with Taehyung starts to show its cracks.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7.5k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Saturday October 20th

You text Taehyung before going to sleep just to confirm he didn’t die in a ditch, but it’s radio silence from him until almost three o’clock the next afternoon. When he does finally answer you - “alive but at what cost?” - you roll your eyes and turn your phone over, screen down. You’re sitting in the living room, two author anthologies open on the coffee table, bookends to your open notebook. 

Apparently he’s displeased with your silence, because your phone buzzes again a few minutes later - the longer buzz, indicating a call of some kind. With a huff of aggravation, you flip it over to see it’s a video call, his preferred method of communication. You slide the button to accept the call, but let him stare at your ceiling. 

“What?” you demand. “I can’t talk, I have to go call off my search parties.”

“I was asleep,” he defends himself. “I texted you as soon as I woke up!”

“Didn’t sleep last night, huh?” you joke, but the sting is there. Just a little. 

He avoids the question. “What are we doing tonight?”

You laugh at the audacity of his whole existence. Admitting to your face that he’d been up all night with a girl, and then calling you first thing upon waking like he knows you’ll just be there, waiting for him. What would happen if you weren’t?

Not to mention asking what the Saturday night plan is thirty seconds after waking up with a hangover. 

“I’m assuming you won’t want to go out?” you ask. 

He hums, runs a hand through his messy hair. “Depends. I could be persuaded, maybe. Wouldn’t mind just hanging out, though. What about a movie? We have that one we’ve been saving?”

We.

You’re not sure why, today, it’s bothering you so much. The truth is, Taehyung’s acting and speaking the same as always. So what’s different?

You don’t want to examine the answer to that, so you focus on the plan instead. “I like the sound of a movie,” you agree. “Wanna see if anyone else is interested?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says. “I’ll text everyone.”

“Sounds good. See you around eight?”

“Should we order dinner before that?” he asks.

Something in your stomach turns. You don’t want to. You don’t want to keep getting your heart stepped on. You don’t want his metaphorical scent on all of your clothes, so that you can’t go anywhere or do anything without him lingering on you. 

And at the same time, he’s your best friend. He’s your family. You love him, in multiple ways.

It feels like being tugged in opposite directions. It feels like lose/lose. It feels like there’s no right answer, nowhere to turn, no option that doesn’t hurt.

“Not tonight,” you hear yourself say. “I have too much homework.”

“Okay,” he says easily. “See you around eight, then. I’ll let you know if anyone else is coming with me.”

You try to return to homework after you hang up, but your focus is shot. You lean onto the cushy back of the couch, closing your eyes. You’re still sitting like that when you hear the front door open. Namjoon hadn’t been home when you got up, had been out the whole time.

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

He gives a chuckle. “Everything okay?”

“I think my brain is broken,” you tell him. “Can Edna write about something besides death?”

He huffs out a laugh, and you hear him drop his keys onto the counter. “I think she does,” he says, coming closer and peering at the anthology you still have open on the table in front of you. “Nature. Rebellion. Men. Women. Love. Sex.”

Your cheeks burn, like you’re thirteen damn years old, just from hearing the word sex in his low, steady voice.

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently. 

“I guess so,” you admit. “But today everything I read is about grief.”

“Take a break,” he suggests, moving into the kitchen. You hear a cabinet open and the sink run, and then he comes in carrying a glass of water. He sits down a few feet away from you on the couch and copies your pose, leaning back against the cushions.

It occurs to you that you’ve never sat on the couch at the same time as him before. In fact, your Uber ride last night was the closest your bodies had ever been. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie tonight,” you find yourself telling him. “That new one with what’s-his-face, Raven’s Prophecy? Around eight. If you want to join.”

“Yeah,” he says right away, surprising you. “Sounds good.”

–

The movie’s good  - really good. You’re all crowded around the living room - Namjoon on one end of the couch, Yoongi on the other, you and Taehyung and Jimin on the floor. The coffee table has been pushed to the side to make room for you, the lights turned down. Taehyung is sitting with his back against the couch, legs extended in front of him, and you have a throw-pillow leaning against his knees, laying perpendicular to him. Jimin sits next to Taehyung, one of his legs resting lazily over top of yours.

It feels normal, and it feels nice, and everything weird from earlier seems to float away. Maybe you had just been tired. 

“That’s totally foreshadowing,” you pipe up, raising a hand to point at the screen. “Because when he-.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says loudly, reaching over to flick the back of your arm. “No nerd talk. Just enjoy the movie. No one asked for a literary analysis.”

“But, look -.”

“No,” he repeats firmly, and Jimin giggles, used to this exact squabble. “This is fun, not school.”

“Foreshadowing is fun!” you protest, laughing, but you let it go. 

A second later, your phone buzzes in your hand. 

[9:37 PM] Namjoon: 🤯

You bite back a smile, turning off your screen before the light can catch anyone’s attention, and then you cast your gaze up at the couch to find Namjoon looking right at you, a sheepish smile creeping up on one side of his face. 

You’re thankful for the dark of the room, the light shifting and changing with the scene on the tv screen, as you feel yourself blush. 

God, you think to yourself. Get it together. Two days ago, it hadn’t been like this, where every met glance cues up a shy smile, and each tiny smile elicits a flush. You don’t know who this girl is but she is un-fucking-recognizable. 

You wait a minute or two, then turn your brightness down and send back, “but am i wrong?”. Then you glance back up to watch Namjoon read the text. He gives a laugh, one shake of his shoulders as he sees it, and then he meets your gaze. That same half-smile on his face, he shakes his head imperceptibly. 

Behind you, beneath you, Taehyung shifts and you turn back to the tv quickly, feeling something akin to guilt simmer in your gut. You don’t see his eyes bounce back and forth between you and Namjoon, curious. 

Monday October 22nd

Monday brings bright sunshine despite the chilly air, morning light illuminating the deep reds and oranges of the trees down the block. 

Namjoon finds you in the kitchen, staring listlessly into an untouched cup of coffee. 

“Good morning?” he greets you, a question.

You startle. “Shit!” you yelp and then laugh, heart pounding. “I didn’t even hear you getting ready in there. ”

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says apologetically. “I’m heading to campus in a bit… how about you?”

“Yeah,” you say glumly. “I have work and class.”

“Same,” he says, moving around you to rummage for some breakfast. “Class first, and then I’m TA-ing all afternoon.” 

You give him a little smile. “I don’t think I’ll be needing your services today.”

“No?” he asks mildly. “Last few submissions went well?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume I’ve written anything worth submitting.”

He laughs, his back to you, and then settles against the kitchen counter. “I can help you brainstorm, too, if you’re stuck.”

You bite back the prideful I don’t need your help that rises to your tongue. He’s being nice. Instead, you say, “Hopefully I’ll make some progress on my own. Have fun, though. You still have that office to yourself? If I had that, I’d be so productive. Nothing to distract me.”

Namjoon shakes his head, smiling ruefully. “I find ways. I still have my phone. And a window.”

You laugh at this, and then rise, draining half of your mug of coffee in one go. “I need to head in. Are you leaving now, too? Or, later?”

“I can make now work,” he says, something warm in his tone. “Let me just go grab my bag.”

Out front, you blink against the sudden brightness, holding up a hand to shield your eyes as they adjust. Namjoon locks the front door and comes down the steps at a light jog, stopping next to you.

“Ready?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, and you start off towards campus in silence, the only noise around you the calls of birds and the hum of car engines from nearby traffic. 

You stop at an intersection, watching the orange hand tell you to wait. “So,” you say, glancing up at him as the cars whiz by, “what’s your book about?”

He looks at you completely blankly, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

“For the grad program,” you clarify. “You said you were in fiction, right?”

“Oh,” he says, as if he forgot. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know. It’s hard to explain.”

“Try,” you say dryly.

“It’s a coming-of-age, I guess,” he says, rubbing his chin as he thinks. He’s wearing his glasses today, and you have half a mind to tease him that he’s just trying to look like one of the professors so they don’t kick him out of his hijacked office. “And a bit of an unrequited love story.”

“The good kind or the bad kind?” you ask, a little absently. When he doesn’t answer, you look at him to determine why, and he’s looking at you like you’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world.

You huff out a sigh. “Like - unrequited because the other person doesn’t know, or because they don’t return the feelings?”

“One of those is the good kind?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“The first one,” you say, as if it’s obvious. “It’s… it always exists only as the idea of love, it’s untarnished, it can remain a beautiful and pure thing. It never gets messed up.”

“But you’re alone,” Namjoon counters. 

“You still love someone,” you insist. “The meaning of life, and all that shit.”

Namjoon shakes his head as the stoplight above you changes from green to yellow, and then to red. “It’s not the same as loving someone and having them love you back, building it together and working to sustain it,” he says firmly. “That’s real love.” And then he heads for the crosswalk, his long legs carrying him swiftly away. 

You hurry to catch up, feet following his without question.

–

The first leaf falls, a warning. Now the rest will follow. I watched them sway all summer. Autumn leaves me hollow.

There’s a promise in the air, I turn towards the icy bite. If autumn can’t make me happy, I wonder if winter might.

Aren’t those frozen days so dark? Isn’t catching snowflakes strange? Perhaps this could be something. Perhaps something has to change.

You frown at the page. Half of you is tempted to take Namjoon up on his offer to workshop during his TA hours, but you’ve got a good reason not to let him see this one. 

“Y/N?” Kris calls from the register at the front of the store. “Did I leave my phone back there?”

Their voice brings you back to reality, pulling your focus from the page of your notebook open on your lap. You’re hiding in the stockroom, sitting on an unpacked box of what you hope are books, trying to cram in some coursework. 

Kris’s phone is indeed on a table behind you, where you sling your bookbag when you come in to start a shift. You rise, slipping your notebook back into said bag and grabbing the phone, walking it out to them. 

You’re alarmed when both phones buzz in your hands, a long, repeating pattern that you aren’t accustomed to.

“What the fuck?” you utter, even though if your boss heard you cursing on the floor you’d get a written reprimand for the first time in your life. 

“Storm alert,” Kris says, reaching one grabby hand out for their phone. You pass it over and press your thumb to your own screen. Sure enough, it’s a severe weather alert. 

You groan. “Great. I walked here.” You try to pull up the radar, but your shitty service takes too long to load it so you switch over to the hour-by-hour. 

“See if your knight in shining armor will give you a ride,” Kris says with a twisted chuckle. 

For a second, you aren’t sure if they mean Taehyung or Namjoon, and that fact is startling. Obviously they mean Taehyung, they know a lot of your history with him and they don't know anything about what’s happening with Namjoon. Nothing is happening with Namjoon, you correct yourself sternly. You had a weird desire to scoot closer while drunk in an Uber and had one sort of deep conversation. It’s not a thing. 

And, actually, texting Taehyung for a ride is a pretty good idea. Outside, it’s not even raining yet, but the clouds hang low and the leaves that have managed to cling to their branches this late into autumn are flipping and shimmying in the harsh wind. 

There’s a long line of students waiting to check out - probably grabbing last minute snacks and drinks before the rain starts, so they don’t have to go out later - so you slide next to Kris at the second register and swipe your access card. You work like this for at least an hour, the rain starting a pace outside the windows as steady as the flow of students trying to get what they need and hurry back to their dorms. 

When you catch a minute, you send a text, holding your phone down under the counter and typing with one hand, as if it isn’t painfully obvious what you’re doing. When the answer comes in, you tap the screen quickly.

[4:22 PM] You: are you still on campus?

[4:31 PM] Namjoon: just finished work. can’t wait to walk back in this…

You giggle and Kris looks at you out of the corner of their eyes.

“That him?” they ask. They mean Taehyung, and you’re too damn aware of the lie as you answer, “Mhm.”

[4:34 PM] You: i’m done in 25 min if you want to suffer together

[4:36 PM] Namjoon: yeah sounds good you can make sure i dont drown lol

An “lol”? Oh, goodness.

[4:37 PM] Namjoon: you’re at the bookstore right? i’ll come there and wait for you

Oh, lord, Kris is going to have a field day with this. You don’t have time to focus on this, as your boss finally sweeps out of her adjoining office, announcing that you need to shut down the second register and finish everything in the back room before your shift ends. She’ll be the one to close the store tonight, as she does on Mondays. 

When you emerge from the back room at 4:59 on the dot, your backpack on your back, Namjoon is loitering near the registers, and Kris is shooting you looks that are somehow mischievous, delighted, and wounded. You have a feeling you’ll be interrogated during your shift on Wednesday.

Outside, the rain isn’t that bad, but it is steady. The wind blowing makes it look like it’s raining left to right, in sheets. 

“We’re gonna be drenched,” you groan. You follow Namjoon out of the bookstore, waving a goodbye at a still-disgruntled Kris, stopping at the glass doors that lead outside. 

“It’s not that bad,” Namjoon tells you, voice a little fond, like he thinks your complaining is cute. “We’ll just go quick. I’m mostly worried about my laptop.”

“Ugh, same,” you lament. “We’d better be fast, I fully cannot afford a new one.”

“Let’s go,” he tells you, and leads you outside. Just like that morning, your feet follow his, like it’s natural. You walk in silence almost halfway home, the pace too clipped to really carry on any kind of conversation. 

You’re practically panting for breath when you hit the major crosswalk, stopping to wait for the signal to walk. The rain seems worse when you’re stopped - sticking your hair to your head where it lands, raising the hairs on your arms as your body gives one dramatic shiver against the chill. Namjoon looks down at you.

“We’re almost there,” he says, reassuring. 

“Mhm,” you manage, rubbing your hands over your arms to fight off the goosebumps. The light changes and you start across, following Namjoon and his naturally long stride. You keep your eyes on the ground, dodging puddles, watching the white stripes pass beneath you. 

You’re just across, stepping up the curb onto the sidewalk, when it happens.

The sky opens. 

One second it’s raining hard enough to be a nuisance, the next second it feels like someone dumped a bucket of water over your head. The sound goes from a soft patter to a sudden roar, like the rain is alive and it is pissed. You splutter, actually blowing water away from your lips, reaching up to wipe your eyes. 

“Fucking shit,” Namjoon swears, and then he grabs your hand and tugs. “Come on!”

He’s not running that fast but there’s still a few seconds where you feel uneven, your gait awkward, trying to match his. Eventually your feet settle into the rhythm and you run just behind him. His hand, so large in yours it's almost swallowing it, is warm and solid and sure. His grip is tight - like he means it. He doesn’t look back as he runs, just squeezes your hand in his and trusts you to keep up.

When you round the corner of your block, together, you try to pull back, try to slow down. Your lungs hurt, your legs are burning, and you just want to admit defeat and walk the block letting the rain know it won.

Namjoon doesn’t let you. He slows his pace to more of a race-walk, gives your arm another playful tug. Not for a single second does he loosen his grip on your hand.  

“You can make it,” he tells you over his shoulder. His hair is flattened from the rain, his face a little flushed from the run, but his dimples wink at you through the deluge.

When he reaches the front of the apartment, he finally drops your hand and takes the steps at a clip. At the top, under the safety of the awning, he turns to see why you haven’t followed him.

You can’t help it - it’s all so ridiculous you have to laugh. Your hair sticks to your face like cooked spaghetti, your shirt clings to your arms, your backpack is dripping water like there’s a faucet in there, and even your socks are wet, making each step you take squelch like mud. Still cackling at the absurdity of this moment, of having been completely defeated by the season, of running all the way home and still ending up half-drowned, you look up at the sky. The rain slides down the sides of your face and you let it cool the heat that’s there from either running, or Namjoon’s touch.

You feel a little drunk from it. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon scolds from the top of the stairs, but he’s smiling that same fond little smile he’d had on movie night a few days ago. “Come inside! You’re going to get pneumonia.”

You look back at him, the rain still assaulting you from above. There’s a second where you feel something. Something like… you’re half-drowned and chilled to the bone, but you feel warm with his affectionate gaze on you. Like you don’t want him to look away and leave you cold again. Like the rain was penance and now you’re all paid up. 

Like for at least this moment, right now, the rain has washed away your histories and left you clean and empty, a blank page waiting for a new story to tell - where before, your pages were full of scribbles and scrawls that held such heavy meaning there was no room for anything new.

You’re thinking too much.

You’re standing in the rain, Namjoon is looking at you like you’re nuts, and you’re thinking too much.

 Watching your feet, you head up the stairs, going through the front door that he’s holding open for you.

You squish your way upstairs, neither of you talking. Inside the apartment, Namjoon flicks on a few lamps.

“I’m going to grab a shower,” he tells you, voice quiet. “You should, too.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “That was my plan.”

You stand beneath the spray of hot water, tapping on the faucet to work it hotter by degrees, not wanting the temperature to jump and scald you. You feel drained, like your limbs are noodles. You lean your forehead against the tile wall, closing your eyes and just breathing.

“What the fuck…” you whisper to no one, “is going on?”

You wish you had a friend to talk it out with. Kris would go overboard, exploding with glee. Lin isn’t a talk about boys kind of person, or even a talk about your feelings kind. That leaves Taehyung, and the idea of trying to talk to him about your burgeoning feelings for Namjoon makes you laugh out loud, the single syllable echoing off the shower walls, echoing back to mock you. 

When you finally make it back into the living room, hair blow-dried and wearing your fuzziest joggers and a hoodie, Namjoon is tucked away in his own room, the door open that familiar four inches. 

You get settled on the couch and pull out your phone and realize practically with a gasp - you hadn’t even tried to text Taehyung to drive you, nice and dry, back from campus. Your brain had thought but I walked here with Namjoon and the option of “dry” went right out the window.

You cover your face with your hands, sliding down on the couch a little bit. What is the matter with you? 

You feel right now like it’s all happening too much, too fast. What even is “it”? Do you like Namjoon? Despite barely knowing him? Despite having to live with him? 

Despite the years and years of experience you have with loving Taehyung, and Taehyung alone, out of everyone in the whole wide world?

Luckily, Namjoon stays in his room for the rest of the evening, sparing you from any more self-reflection, any more soul-searching. 

You still kind of wish he’d come out. 

Tuesday October 23rd

One of the steady things that you and Namjoon share, that works for you as roommates, is that neither of you cooks. A whole kitchen of pots and pans just to heat up water for tea and ramen and to occasionally cook an egg. 

So when you get home from class on Tuesday so late that it’s already pretty dark out and you hear the clanging and banging from the kitchen that indicates a meal being made, you genuinely wonder if you’re at the wrong door. 

As you push the door open, the noise only gets louder. You round the corner and see the kitchen in chaos - two unmanned pans on the stove, bowls and whisks and colanders and cutting boards all over the counterspace. Namjoon has his back to you, a large kitchen knife in hand. 

You ease around him, not wanting to startle him until the knife is set down. He spots you anyway, and gives you a sheepish grin.

“What… exactly… is happening here?” you inquire. 

“It depends on the scope of your question,” Namjoon answers, because of course he can’t just fucking answer you like a normal person. “If you’re referring to the stove, I am burning some sauce on the left and burning some meat on the right. If you’re referring to the cutting board, I am -.”

“The stove is on fire!” you shriek, pointing, your spare hand flying to cover your mouth in horror. Flames crawl from underneath the pan of meat, over the top, devouring what’s in the pan and leaping into the air. Namjoon drops the knife with a clatter and whirls around, eyes wide. 

“What do I do?” he cries, hands in the air like he’s going to swat the flames like gnats.

“Turn off the burner and smother it!” you cry, not willing to enter the kitchen and get closer to the danger. 

“Smother it?” he repeats, the words a little wild as he screams them. Smoke has filled the kitchen, blurring your view of him, and the smoke alarm over the front door begins to blare. 

“The lid!” you scream, trying to be louder than the alarm. “Turn off the burner and put the lid on the pan! Be careful!”

You add this last part in a shriek as Namjoon follows your directions, reaching towards the flame to twist the burner and then slam the lid over the top of the pan, hissing a little as he does. 

The flames vanish almost instantly, but the smoke remains and the alarm keeps screaming. Namjoon looks at the pan, then his hand, then at you. 

“Go run cool water on that,” you tell him firmly, and you cross the apartment to open the windows and turn on the fans. 

You return to the kitchen to find Namjoon running the sink over his knuckles, brows furrowed.

“Is it bad?” you ask loudly - again, to be heard over the smoke alarm - as you open a drawer and get a kitchen towel, moving to stand in the kitchen’s doorway flapping away, trying to send the smoke towards the open windows. 

“No,” he tells you, pulling his hand out of the stream of water to examine it more closely. “It’s just a little red.”

“Keep it there for a little bit,” you tell him, still flapping away. “I might have burn cream in my bathroom, I’ll check in a second.”

Eventually the alarm quiets and you both heave a sigh of relief. The cold air coming from the open windows chills you down to your toes, but smoke still clings to the room, blurring your vision just enough to wonder if you’re imagining it. 

You find the burn cream in your medicine cabinet and return to the living room. Namjoon is looking at the ruined remains of his dinner with something like heartbreak on his face.

“Come here,” you tell him, sitting at the breakfast bar, ointment in your hand. “Come sit so I can do this.”

“I can do it,” he protests, but he heads your way.

“Sit,” you repeat, pulling out the stool next to you.

He does, silently and obediently, sliding his hand over to you. You can see the redness over his knuckles, middle and index the most. You uncap the tube and squeeze a little onto your fingers, then take his hand in your spare one to hold it steady. Gently you press the cream into his skin, making sure to cover each bit of redness. Namjoon watches you solemnly, wincing a little when your fingers touch his middle knuckle.

“See if that helps,” you tell him, his hand still resting on yours. “Want help cleaning up?”

He sighs heavily, and you both look at the kitchen in defeat at the mess of pans and bowls to wash.

“Do you ever just… miss your mom?” he asks plaintively, not looking at you.

The thing about grief - long-term grief, lifetime grief - is that you can go days, maybe even weeks at a time without noticing it. It’s kind of like a bruise in a hard to reach spot. It just takes one bump in exactly the right place, and it hurts just as bad as day one all over again. Namjoon’s words pierce you, and you take a slow breath. You were just caught off-guard, that’s all. You can be fine. You can be normal.

“Sure,” you say, trying to sound casual. Failing. 

He narrows his eyes at you in suspicion. “Why’d you get weird?” he asks. “Do you have a bad relationship with your mom or something? I didn’t mean to -.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, but you rise and head for the kitchen, starting to pick things up just to do something with your hands. “It’s just… I don’t have my mom anymore. She passed when I was little. My dad too.” Might as well get it all out there. It felt weird to let someone only know half.

It’s easier to handle this moment with Namjoon in another room. You don’t have to watch him react, don’t have to translate his silence and his body language. You slide all the chopped onion onto a plate just  in case Namjoon still wants to use it, and turn to rinse off the cutting board in the sink. 

He appears behind you, silently lingering in the doorway. “Y/N,” he says softly. 

“It’s fine, Namjoon,” you tell him, scrubbing at the cutting board vigorously. You don’t turn to face him.

“I wouldn’t have been so blase about it if I’d known,” he says apologetically.

“I know,” you say. You turn - away from the doorway - to put the cutting board aside to dry. You grab the pan with sauce in it - all congealed and unappetizing now - and move to scrape it into the garbage can. 

He comes up beside you; his fingers touch your elbow, feather-light, like he’s afraid he’ll spook you.

“Y/N,” he implores. “Look at me.”

You do, glancing sideways up at him, the pan heavy in your hand. “I’m not upset,” you assure him. “People just get so weird when they find out. I hate… navigating that, over and over again, with new people.”

He gives you a guilty smile, but there’s relief in it as well. “I will stop being weird immediately,” he promises. “I just felt like I stepped in it, you know?”

You shrug. “It happens to the best of us. It really is fine. It’s been a long time.”

You arm tingles where he’d touched you, but he stays put when you move back to the sink, running the water hot enough to steam before you put the pan under it. Then, wordlessly, he moves next to you, grabbing a cloth and starting to dry the cutting board you’d washed.

You carry on that like that, a perfectly synchronized dance, in silence until the countertop is empty. All that remains is the pan that had been alight about half an hour ago.

“Can I ask you something personal?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you scrape the remains of the charred meat into the garbage with a grimace. “I’m just curious. You can tell me to fuck off.”

“It’s so jarring when you swear,” you tell him.

He grins at you. “Hobi says my surprising potty-mouth is one of my best charms.”

You laugh at this. “I can see that,” you agree. “It is surprising.”

“Not charming?” he teases.

You shrug, feeling that blush rise up again. “No comment. Anyway - what did you want to ask?”

He lets you get away with evading the flirtation. “If you were little… who raised you?”

“Oh,” you say. You aren’t sure what you thought he’d ask, but it wasn’t that. “My grandma, until she couldn’t. Then my Aunt Lin took over, but she’s more like a big sister than anything.”

Namjoon nods. Then he asks, carefully, “Did Taehyung know your parents?”

The question makes you smile at the memories it pulls up - you and Taehyung as kids together, goofing off around your house, back when it had been filled with people.

“Yeah,” you say softly. It doesn’t occur to you to wonder why he’d ask that. It doesn’t occur to you to mask the tiny smile, that it might jostle his feelings even a little bit.

You look over at him when you realize he’s gone quiet. “Are you close with your family?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He nods, eyes on the pan lid that he’s drying. “Very. I was a lost soul when I first moved to campus. I couldn’t do anything.”

“You burned dinner tonight,” you point out. 

“I can do laundry now,” he retorts, smiling at you as you put the last of the dishes away. “I’ve come a long way.”

“Still room to grow,” you tease, reaching out to give his arm a playful nudge.

You’re giving playful touches now. That’s a thing that’s happening. 

You ache, again, to have someone to tell. 

Wednesday October 24th

You both love and hate Wednesdays - on one hand, you have your thesis double-feature, and you actually enjoy it. On the other hand, you go straight from double-class to closing shift at the campus store, and you don’t get home until dark. The day is long, and you’d rather be home. For several reasons. 

Your morning goes as you expect - you make it through the lecture part of class, updating Professor Jemisen on how your research segment is going. During the break, you eat some leftovers you’d thrown in your backpack, and talk with Gloria and the other girls. After the break, your group helps you workshop your latest poem, the one about the season changing, and you do the same for them.

The season changing is happening in real life, all around you. Fall fades quickly, the days darkening, the chills lasting longer, becoming more pronounced. Gone are the autumn days that change their mood and become summer again for hours at a time. 

You normally go straight to the campus store after class, but this week you’re hungry - the leftovers you packed weren’t enough to keep you until you get home. Instead of heading down the main paved path to the student center, where you work, you head for a large academic building you pass on the way there. You know there’s a little sandwich station on the lowest floor, tucked away past the mailroom like a well-kept secret. 

You take a hallway off to the side, passing some open classrooms on your way to the staircase. You’re walking mindlessly, head thinking only about the sandwich you’re going to order. You slow your steps when you hear a familiar voice, low and calm. 

“All I’m saying,” a girl is saying, and you stop in the doorway, listening, “is that while the idea of going to live alone in the woods is actually extremely appealing, Thoreau as a whole kind of sucks.”

“I might agree with you, but you need to frame that more academically,” Namjoon corrects gently.

A circle of students - freshmen, if you had to guess, maybe eight of them, are sitting at desks, their bags all forgotten on the floor by their chairs. Namjoon perches on the edge of the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, legs casually stretched out before him. He’s listening intently as the students debate.

“We have to specify the problem,” someone else in the group points out. “I’m all for metaphorically dragging down statues of the patriarchy and everything, but we need a solid argument.”

“Or,” a different girl says, voice just barely loud enough for you to hear from the hallway, “maybe instead of giving more attention to ‘classics’ we see as undeserving, maybe instead we should focus just on the underprivileged voices that we prefer to be amplified?”

“You mean pick a lesser-known author and shed light on their work instead?” Namjoon clarifies, and the girl nods. 

The group begins to debate this passionately, and Namjoon lets them fight it out, taking a second to glance at his phone. You become aware of the fact that you’re just standing in the hallway staring. You’re about to move on when Namjoon notices you. He looks away quickly at first, and then it registers that it was you standing in the doorway like a weirdo, and his gaze flies back to you. 

Caught, you have no choice but to lean into it. You give him a tiny smile, raising a hand in a guilty wave. He smiles back, just barely. You stay there another minute, smiling at each other, while the freshmen continue to argue. Then your feet spur you on, and you give him a little nod before heading down the hall. But the stupid fucking butterflies stay in your stomach the whole time you wait in line for your sandwich.

When you get to the bookshop, you toss your backpack behind the counter and slump onto a low stool that’s stashed back there. You lean your head on the counter next to the currently unmanned register and let out some unhappy grumbles.

Kris comes out from the stockroom - you can tell it’s them by their footsteps.

“What is happening here,” they say flatly, not exactly a question.

“Kriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis,” you whine, not looking up. “I think I need to talk about… my roommate.”

“Bitch!” they utter indignantly. “He has a name! What grade are we in right now?”

You stomp your feet lightly, needing to display your crankiness. “I am feeling very confused and conflicted and I need you to be nice to me about it,” you say petulantly, finally picking your head up so you can pout better. 

“Okay,” Kris says easily, leaning against the wall. The shop is devoid of customers, so you don’t bother to lower your voice. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” you continue to whine. “It’s just how I feel.”

Kris gives you a level stare. “I need the whining to stop, like, yesterday. If you feel conflicted, there’s a reason. So, figure out what it is.”

“I already said I don’t know,” you tell them, still pouty, but sitting up straight now.

“Dig deep,” Kris deadpans. “Do it for the dimples.”

“Oh my GOD,” you say, unable to even make eye contact. “Never mind, conversation over.”

They shake their head, not letting you off the hook. “What’s the problem, Square?” It’s a nickname they gave you last year when you wouldn’t go partying - because… apparently you’re a square.

“You know the problem,” you grumble quietly, making them lean closer to hear you.

They lean back, something knowing in their eyes. “Ah. It’s the Taehyung factor.”

“Shh,” you scold, glancing around the empty store like someone might have materialized without you noticing. When you return your gaze to them, Kris is just staring at you plainly, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I don’t know,” you say, and then more emphatically, “I don’t know! If I… start something else… does that mean giving Taehyung up? Because I can’t say I want to do that. Not if I’m being honest.”

Kris nods silently, letting you work it out. You meet their eyes, suddenly feeling the squeeze of anxiety around your chest, like your lungs have something heavy they have to push every time you inhale. 

“If I lose him,” you say in practically a whisper, “I will quite literally die.”

Kris scowls at you. “You will not.”

“I will,” you retort. 

Kris gives you an eyeroll. “So dramatic,” they scold. 

“He’s my family, Kris,” you try to explain. “In a lot of ways he’s my only family.” Your voice breaks as you ask, “What if I lose him?”

Now Kris softens, lips pulling together into something like a very pursed frown. “Maybe you should talk to him,” they suggest quietly.

You hate that idea a lot. “Maybe,” you say loudly, slapping your hand on the counter and standing as the bell over the door chimes and a group of lacrosse guys (the sticks are a give-away) enter the store with a burst of noisy chatter, “I should never talk about any of this ever again.”

Kris sighs heavily, practically doubling over. Now who’s dramatic? “You’re so self-destructive,” they complain.

“Don’t be mean,” you say, going back to pouting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kris waves a hand at you. “Go write a poem about it.”

“And what if I do?” you demand, but you’re both laughing now, unlocking the registers as the lacrosse dudes line up to pay for their snacks and drinks.

–

Taehyung texts you near the end of your shift - “we haven’t hung out in five billion years :(“.

You roll your eyes at his dramatics and text back, “come get me from the bookstore then and hang out for a little”.

You’re pleased when he agrees. He shows up a little bit before closing, knocking on the already locked glass doors. You hurry to let him in, ignoring Kris staring knives into your back. 

“Hi,” you say happily as he slips into the store, and you lock the door again behind him. “I’ll be done in about four minutes.”

“‘Kay,” he says easily, striding over to the checkout counter and leaning against it. 

“Taehyung,” Kris greets him, nodding their head as they lock the register. “How’s it going?”

He sighs dramatically. “The usual. Classes. Parties. Trying to figure out why Y/N doesn’t love me anymore.”

You freeze halfway to the stockroom, your eyes wide, air catching in your throat. 

Luckily, Kris is and always has been way more slick than you. They cock their head quizzically, letting a playfully concerned frown settle over their features. 

“Y/N doesn’t love you anymore?” they echo, the poor baby pronounced in their tone. “What on earth do you mean?”

Taehyung shoots you a mischievous look; luckily, you’ve gotten your act together since he said those words. 

“I had to beg for her attention tonight,” he says, clearly loving this bit. “I’m beginning to think she has a secret boyfriend she’s not telling me about.”

He’s teasing and you know it, but after a lifetime of friendship with Taehyung, you know this too: there’s a little sliver of him that must be hurt, or at least bothered, or he wouldn’t tease at all.

You feel both caught - despite not having a secret boyfriend or anything like it - and guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just got busy with my thesis and everything. I promise I’m not out with other people and not you. Even Kris only sees me at work these days.”

“And Namjoon,” Taehyung adds plaintively, and your blood runs cold.

“Namjoon?” you echo, not sure you can form a different word.

Taehyung’s pouting now, which means he’s not too serious. “Yeah, he has no choice, you’re in his living room every day.”

“Oh,” you say, relief flooding through you. “Yeah.”

You don’t see the point in telling Taehyung that there’s a teeny, tiny something starting with Namjoon. Not when it’s so… unformed, insubstantial, uncertain. You don’t know which word fits best. It’s a maybe at best, and it just doesn’t seem worth rocking the boat over it. 

What would happen if things started for real? Would you tell him? It shouldn’t have to be a secret… it shouldn’t stay a secret, not if you mean it. What would happen?

You’re afraid to know the answers. 

You finish up in the store and you all head to the parking lot together. You tell Kris goodbye and drop down into Taehyung’s passenger seat. 

“You’re gonna stay at the apartment for a little?” you ask. 

“Mhm,” he says, fiddling with the heat until he gets it how he wants it. “Can I work on homework with you?”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I have so much shit to do. I wasn’t kidding when I said school is eating my life. Senior year sucks.”

Taehyung isn’t looking at you - he’s watching the road as he waits for an opening in traffic so he can pull out of the parking lot. But something crosses his face - relief, maybe. Something softens, anyway. Maybe he really had been hurt that you hadn’t been hanging out as much.

When you return to the apartment, Namjoon isn’t home - his door hangs open, his bedroom completely dark. 

You and Taehyung settle in the living room, dragging out your laptops. It’s nice, hanging out like this again. You hadn’t realized how long it had been - over a week - since it had been just the two of you, like old times. Everything falls right into place. You swap snacks, hands brushing as you both reach into crinkling chip bags. You reach over and type nonsense into his paper when he isn’t paying attention, letting out peals of laughter when he figures it out and starts spluttering at you in outrage. You tell him about the customer at the store who argued with you over - of all the stupid things - a used copy of The Odyssey. 

When he hugs you goodbye at the end of the night, swaying you playfully back and forth like he might drop you, both of you giggling wildly, you’re reminded of just what the stakes are. You’re reminded of just how much you have to lose. 

<- Prev || Next ->

ahhhhh what do we think??!! there was hand holding!!!! are we clutching our pearls??!!!

as always thank you all so so so much for being here, i appreciate every one of you so extremely much!!!

My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold || KNJ || Masterpost

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold

Rating: NSWF - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut

Pairings: KNJ x female reader, unrequited KTH x reader (reader is in love with best friend!tae)

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.  Warnings: pov changes - some scenes are namjoon’s pov, conversations revolving around the past loss of immediate family members, language, drinking, angst, a LOT of poetry sorry, eventual smut - sections will have individual warnings

Author's Note: huge thank you to @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii for beta-ing and listening to me talk about this series a LOT!!! Second thank you to @/jeonqkooks for the gorgeous banner and ALSO for listening to me talk about this way too much lolllll

Series Teaser:

Namjoon peers at you through eyes squinted in suspicion. “How drunk are you?”

You consider this. “Enough that I want to kiss you again, to hell with the consequences. Not too drunk to remember that there would be consequences.”

The playfulness leaves his face; it’s too obvious not to notice. “Consequences like what?”

It’s a challenge. He knows you know it.

“Namjoon,” you say, a little pleading. Don’t. 

“Consequences like Taehyung would see?” he presses. His voice has gone hard.

I. Your Wild-Running Heart | 7k

II. My Devotion's Been an Ocean | 7k

III. So I Speak Your Name | 7.5k

IV. Something Has to Change | 7.5k

V. Say What You Mean | 6k

Teaser:

Namjoon’s not sure what makes him brave enough to say it - maybe because he’s been drinking. But he opens his mouth and asks, “Taehyung… what would happen if she did start to date someone?”

Coming Friday, February 10th!

VI. Don't Think About Him | 6k

VII. Supposed to Be With You | 6k

VIII. Nothing Grows Here | 5.5k

IX. Heedless and Willful | 7.5k

X. So I Follow | 7.7k

XI. Something You Have to Build | 5k

Extras:

-> The apartment's layout

-> Section II Poetry Analysis

-> Section III Poetry Analysis

In Real Life • pt1

-> Being transported into a fanfic is not exactly Jimin's ideal type of weekend, especially not right after you rejected his attempt to ask you out. Now the two of you will have to help the author write a happy ending if you ever wanna make it back to real life. Can he write a happy ending with you too?

Main pairing: gamer boy!jimin x fem!creative writing major!reader

Genre/au: trapped in a fanfic!au, enemies to friends to lovers, low-key love triangle, sports!au (archery), college!au, a good amount of fluff, a poor attempt at humor, some angst, inspired by Teen Beach Movie and Extraordinary You

Warnings: breaking the fourth wall sorta / pov changes, embarrassing moments, Jimin being a sweetheart bc I can't write him any other way, themes of depression and anxiety, more warnings to be added to part 2.

Wc: 14.1K

Disclaimer: this is not meant to represent all fanfiction and I'm not implying that all fanfic writers or readers only engage in fanfiction to escape reality. it's just for the sake of the story.

💿 the author - Luz :: more of you - JP Saxe :: main character - Zach Hood

a/n: yes, I had to split this into two parts because I planned it to be 15K but it's turning out longer than that sooooo yeah, hope ya'll enjoy the first part and if you do/don't want to be tagged for part 2 just let me know :)

"You're still here." 

"I'm still here." 

Jungkook doesn't know what to say. He's been a jerk. A complete bonehead, oblivious to what's been right in front of him this entire time. 

"I thought you would have left already," he says with downcast eyes. 

The implication is that you should have left by now. There's no reason for you to wait around for this jackass. He's been nothing but cruel to you, doing the things he did, saying the things he said. 

"I should have left," you admit, shamelessly standing before him still, "but there's something I have to say." 

Jungkook leans away, listening with intent but also nervous for what you'll say. Surely, you're going to scold him for his actions, tell him off, curse him. It would be an appropriate response given what he did. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this any–" 

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand, your eyes following it helplessly over your head to the bleacher behind you. 

"Hey! My phone!" 

Park Jimin. Teaser extraordinaire and the only student you know who got a legit scholarship to a legit university for gaming. That's right, this geek got into university by playing video games. A fact that has continued to irk you considering you worked your ass off to graduate high school early and still only got into your third university of choice after being rejected twice. 

"Whoa, what is this?" he snickers at the screen, giggling among his so-called friends that always follows him around as he reads your precious fiction embarrassingly loudly. "He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to–" 

You swipe your phone back, slapping his hand in the process. "Don't steal people's stuff!" 

"Was that fanfiction? Oh my god, you actually read that shit?" he belly laughs, almost falling off the back of the bleachers but his groupies catch him just in time. 

Too bad. 

You shut off the screen with the app still on and stuff your phone in your jean pocket, turning to the front with crossed arms and a pout. 

"Mind your own business, Park." 

"Do you like it when guys randomly grab you and kiss you?" 

"No," you flick your hair back, "but even if I did, like I said, mind your own business." 

"Aw come on, it's just a joke. Lighten up, it's the first game of the season." 

No, he just enjoys teasing you for your reactions. You try not to let him bother you because to be honest he isn't worth your time, but he has this way of getting you so riled up that you have to react. Stealing your phone, eavesdropping on your conversations, sliding into your DMs and spamming you with that one fancy duck meme that you told him makes you uncomfortable but he keeps sending it anyway. 

You tried to ignore him but he's attached himself to you for god knows why. His purpose in life must be to make you miserable. 

Your school's basketball team made another score on the court and the crowd started cheering, a good enough opportunity as any to slip away. Just goes to show what trying to be social and involved in school spirit will get you. Teased and irritated. You should have stayed in your dorm and worked on your creative writing final like you originally planned. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Jimin calls after you, leaning to see around his friends, but you don't reply. 

You duck and weave through the aisles of the bleachers. The stadium is packed as mess so it's impossible not to bump into people, unfortunately. 

Someone grabs your wrist just as you manage to slip past the bleachers and into the concession stands area, making you turn around in surprise. 

"You're leaving already?" Jimin asks. 

"Yes, I'm leaving. Let go, please." 

He drops your limb. "But it's only half time." 

"I've got an assignment anyway." 

"Do it later. Come watch the rest of the game with me." 

"Honestly, I don't want to sit with you, Jimin." 

"Whoa," he puts his hands up in surrender, "did I do something?" 

You scoff, "Is it really that shocking to think I don't want to sit with you? We don't even know each other that well." 

"Then let's get to know each other. Go on a date with me." 

You're too shocked to speak. It's a prank. He can't be serious about this. Jimin found out you like fanfiction and now he's trying to make your heart race by sticking his hands in his pockets and half smirking like he's charming or something. 

You cross your arms. "Why should I?" 

"Because I like you." 

"No, thanks." 

His smirk turns downward, shoulders slumping. "Why not?" 

"I don't like you like that," you explain as kindly as you can. You are being kind because you could say you don't like him at all and it would be closer to the truth. 

"That's the point of dating," he says with a confident tilt of his head. "You may like me once you get to know me." 

"I don't want to date the guy who steals my phone and teases me about my hobbies." 

"Okay okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stolen your phone," he says with a genuine nod, "but fanfiction, really? That stuff is for loners and hopeless romantic fangirls." 

"I'm guessing you wouldn't want to date a loner or a hopeless romantic fangirl, huh?" 

"Well no, who would?" 

"Then you don't want to date me." 

The crowd behind you start to bustle, pouring into the open space of vendors and snack bars and bathrooms, crowding your shoulders and walking through the space between you and Jimin. 

The conversation was over anyway, so you give one last wave and start to walk away. 

The crowd is thick and difficult to maneuver. It doesn't help that you're not nearly as tall as half the male fans here. Basketball is a tall sport so you should have expected this, but you press on, trying to slip through holes and low tunnels in the crowd to evade any further conversation with your nemesis. 

Jimin's calling fades into the background. You turn to see if he's still following but he's not around, probably went back to his seat seeing as you made your rejection clear as day already. 

It blows your mind because this stuff only happens in kindergarten. Teasing you because he likes you? It didn't even cross your mind. No college-aged graphic design major is that emotionally immature, right? If he really likes you he should treat you with respect like a gentleman from one of Jane Austen's novels. 

You squeal when a large shoulder hits you square in the chest, complete disregard for the person they just ran into. 

Falling back, you brace yourself for a harsh landing when a pair of arms catches you at the last moment, twisting you around and pulling you into a steady embrace. 

"You okay?" 

You peer up to find Jimin holding you securely against his chest. 

So he was still following you. 

"Yeah," you reply, pulling your legs back underneath you again, but he keeps his arms around you. "Thanks." 

"People never pay attention at these things. Let me walk you out–" 

He's interrupted when another rough nudge to his back sends him jerking forward, feet shuffling to keep from falling on top of you, his lips lightly brushing your nose. 

That was close. 

You scrunch your nose instinctively, making yourself smaller within his arms when they naturally squeeze around you. 

"...sorry," he mutters with a light blush on his cheeks, watching your cute expression with concern. 

You push away from his chest, too embarrassed that your heart is actually racing to say anything else. Looking down, you trudge through the rest of the crowd and make a bee-line for the exit. 

Good god, you have to get out of here. 

It's so much easier to breathe once you're outside. Puffs of warmth escape your lips when your head falls back with a large sigh. Finally some coolness on your cheeks. 

Muffled squeaks of sneakers on the court and groans from the audience are all you need to know the game has resumed. Jimin must have gone back then. There's no way he followed you all the way out here after all that. 

"___! Wait up!" 

"You have got to be kidding me," you whisper to yourself in disbelief. 

This dude cannot take a hint. 

"I'm sorry for…back there," he says shyly when he's come up behind you. At least he's apologizing on his own accord this time. "I got bumped. It was a mistake, I swear." 

You turn to give him a small nod, arms wrapped around yourself. "It's fine." 

"Are you cold? You should've brought a jacket." 

"Yeah, I didn't because I didn't know it would be this cold." 

"Here, you can have mine." 

"No!" You quickly stop him with a hand held up when he starts to strip his outer layer. "I don't want your jacket, Jimin." 

"But–" 

"I'm not trying to encourage anything, okay?" you interrupt him. "Please, don't give me your jacket." 

He slowly pulls it back over his shoulders with a frown. Your hand lowers and you tuck it back into your crossed arms, a slight shiver running through your shoulders.  

"At least let me walk you to your dorm. It's dark." 

"I'll be fine. Goodnight, Jimin." 

He doesn't respond but you can feel his eyes on the back of your head as you walk away. 

Okay, maybe you feel kinda bad turning down his jacket since you are freezing and he could have just been trying to be considerate. But with the knowledge of his crush on you, you just couldn't accept it with a clear conscience. Especially not right after turning him down so blatantly. 

That's right, this is the jerk who's been teasing you relentlessly since you met last semester. Now you know it was all because he likes you. Childish. This isn't kindergarten. 

So what, you like fanfiction? Lots of people do. It's an escape from the disappointment of reality, and everyone needs some of that at some point. Hell, Jimin plays video games for hours a day! Sure, some of it is for his major but he's probably also trying to escape reality part of the time, and you don't blame him. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket and open up the tab for your fanfic, finding the spot where you left off. A little escape from reality is exactly what you need right about now actually. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this anymore. I'm tired, okay? Tired of trying and never getting anywhere, tired of my feelings not being reciprocated. So, I'm done. I'm done with you–" 

He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to explode. 

His lips are perfect against yours, like pillows of sweetness. But they're nothing compared to his potent tongue, slipping between your lips and drawing a soft moan from your throat. 

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing…

You shake your head when the image of Jimin catching you pops into your imagination. 

…squeezing you so close you can feel his heartbeat through his white t-shirt. 

Jungkook's hands follow the curve of your waist, allowing the kiss to keep pace for a moment, enjoying your taste, the warmth of your tongue and the coolness of your lips. 

He pulls away from the kiss and takes a deep breath. His fingers gently brush your hair from your face, forehead leaning against yours lovingly as he gazes into your eyes. It feels like a scene from a movie. 

He smiles that wickedly beautiful smile and whispers soft and low…

"Watch out!!" 

Your arm is grabbed right when you lift your eyes from your phone, the blinding headlights of a car coming right at you. 

There's not even enough time to gasp. 

All you recognize is the pull of your body being jerked back, a stinging pain shooting up your arm and into your shoulder, the twist of your ankle as it trips over the curbside. 

Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear you catch a glimpse of Jimin's face before you crash onto the sidewalk, your side landing on his arm, and your head painfully slamming into the ground. 

:: 

His head is pounding when he comes to, rivers of red behind his eyes like poison. Even after he tries to blink them away, they persist for a moment. 

"What the fuck…" Jimin groans, reaching up to rub his head. 

Shit, that really hurt. 

Just as he starts to make sense of where he is in space, a body next to him starts to stir as well. 

Slowly, you shift where you lay on his arm, rubbing your head where you must have hit it on the sidewalk too. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, still blinking to bring his world into focus. 

Even if you're not, maybe you needed a good knock on the head. You were about to walk out in front of a fucking car because you were too lost in whatever fanfic you were reading. Idiot. 

You sit up, a hand on the side of your neck as you twist to help with the stiffness. Your neck pops and that helps a lot. 

"I think so." Your eyes land on Jimin and his position on the ground. "Did you…thank you." 

"Don't mention it," he sighs and sits up next to you, "just look where you're going from now on." 

"Right. I will." 

"Sure your head is okay?" 

"It's pounding a little," you confess. 

"Mine too," Jimin replies, pulling your ripped sweater back over your shoulder. 

And then the most extraordinary, unexpected thing happens. 

The moment is suddenly in slow-mo. The action of his hand brushing your skin when he moves your sleeve, the way his eyelashes softly flutter when he looks at you. The background blurs into a mass of nothingness, there's a soft hum of a melody coming from somewhere and fairy lights around his face like a filter. You're completely enraptured in the moment, physically unable to look away from his angelic form. 

When he's finished helping you cover your shoulder, the world returns to normal. 

Perhaps you hit your head a little harder than you thought. It's playing tricks on you now. 

"Hey, Jimin?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Wasn't it nighttime before?" 

Curiously, he takes a gander at your surroundings, and sure enough, the sun is high in the sky. That means the basketball game ended and everyone left the stadium, passed by you two lying unconscious on the sidewalk, and did nothing. The school will definitely be hearing about this. 

"It was also October," he comments. 

It feels rather warm for it being this far into Autumn. Not to mention the trees are beautifully green and flowering everywhere you look. It's not just a warm day in October. It's a different season. A hot season. 

He decides to shake it off and stand up, brushing off his clothes and ruffling his hair. 

You stand as well, a little unsteady on your feet. 

"You're not too dizzy to walk?" he checks just in case. 

"I think I'm good. Are you okay?" 

"Just a headache." 

Something is definitely odd but he can't quite put his finger on it. Something feels weirder than normal, like he's not seeing things right, like his peripheral vision has been tampered with. When he's focused on you, everything else fades into the background until he makes a point to look away from you again. 

He chalks it up to his head still spinning but he can't ignore the oddity of his environment right now. It still looks like his universe but something is…different. He can't seem to get out of tunnel vision mode. 

"Where are all the students?" you ask. 

Now is when he notices the lack of other people. The campus is completely abandoned save for the two of you and the occasional squirrel in a tree behind him. 

"In class?" 

"It is the middle of the day," you admit thoughtfully, but you don't seem convinced by his suggestion. From the expression on your face, Jimin gets the feeling you're sensing something isn't right either. 

You take a single step and your knees buckle beneath you, a light gasp alerting Jimin to your fall. 

His reaction is in slow-mo, arms scooping around your waist, supporting your sudden weight when you collapse into his embrace. Your hands land on his shoulders, your chest on his chest.  

The rest of the world blurs into a mesh of nothingness until all he can see is you slowly looking up at him, eyes sparkling abnormally bright and lips shimmering temptingly. Your eyelids flutter at him, silently speaking to him in soothing tones. His gaze drop to your lips, filled with an overwhelming urge to kiss you stupid. 

Just as the moment arrives, it disappears when you push yourself off his chest and stand up on your own again. 

"Sorry," you quickly apologize, "I don't know what that was. I just, umm, my legs gave out. Guess I'm dizzier than I thought." You shyly tuck your hair behind your ear and then look at your hand as if it betrayed you. 

"It's okay," Jimin assures you, just as confused. "But...did you happen to see that?" 

"See what?" 

"Nevermind." 

Even if you did see it, what reason does Jimin have to believe you would admit you also experienced whatever fanfic shit that just was. 

Wait. Oh hell no. It can't be. That stuff only happens in video games and movies.

"Hey, ___, when you accidentally walked in front of that car and I pulled you out of the way…you were reading fanfiction, weren't you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Are you seriously going to tease me right after a near death experience? That's low, man." 

"No, no, that's not what I meant," he says. "You're gonna think I'm insane, but…doesn't something feel off to you?" 

You swallow, clearly not about to suggest it yourself but you were thinking the same thing. Your expression shifts to realization mixed with horror, wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 

"What is it?" Jimin urges. 

Without a second thought, you start searching all over the ground, the side of the curb and the grass on the edge of the trees, desperately looking for something. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My phone!" you insist frantically. "Help me find it!" 

Without arguing, Jimin kneels to the ground and starts searching as well. 

Thankfully, you find the device a moment later. The screen is cracked but otherwise it's not broken. It turns on just fine and you unlock it to reveal the screen you were reading right before Jimin pulled you out of the way of that car. 

"I knew it," Jimin clicks his tongue, "you were reading fanfiction and not paying attention. You could have gotten seriously hurt if I hadn't been there, you know." 

"Jimin…" you slowly turn the screen so he can see it clearly. 

"What, I don't get–" he freezes, absolutely horrified. "Is it…how is it…doing that?" 

"I don't know," you reply, releasing a shaky breath as you watch your words appear in quotations on the screen. "Is it commenting on us?" 

You wave your arm in random directions as if that's the best way to test whether or not I actually know what you're doing right now. You look stupid by the way. You should probably stop. 

"Oh fuck, no way," Jimin refuses with a shake of his head, watching each letter appear on the screen in perfect time as it leaves his lips. "Whatever sick trick this is, I'm not a part of it. Make it stop, ___." 

"I'm not doing it!" you insist, unaware that you are in a way, because these are your words being typed right now. 

"No, I'm not!" you insist once again. "Whoever is doing that, we're not in your story so cut it out!" 

Oh, but this isn't my story anymore. It's yours. 

"What?" 

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you better leave us alone right now!" Jimin yells at me. 

But here's the thing, I started this fanfic with the intention of two lovers having a happily ever after and my pairing isn't working very well. So, I had to improvise. 

Welcome to the fic, you two. Let's write some fanfiction, shall we? There's a special pair of idiots who need your help to fall in love. 

"I don't understand…" you reply to me, slightly shaking where you stand. 

Jimin notices, but he's too nervous to reach out and take your hand. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's still hurt from your rejection because he genuinely likes you but sucks at showing his feelings since his mom walked out on him. 

"Hey, isn't that kind of personal?" Jimin spits back at me, just barely keeping himself from throwing the phone against a tree. 

But I actually do need your help. 

"For what?" 

To get this fanfic back on track. There are two characters I've written on this campus who are meant to end up together, but they're not exactly cooperating with me. I need you to find them and get them together to make the happy ending. 

"Why can you just write them together?" 

That's the thing, I lost control of the story. Whatever I end up writing always backfires. You might call it writer's block or poor motivation or just a lack of writing ability, but either way, I need some assistance to get this story back on track. 

If you two will agree to help me, I won't control your actions or dialogue, I promise. You can do and say whatever you want and all I'll do is record what happens. Help me write this story from the inside and I'll let you go afterwards. 

"And if we refuse?" Jimin crosses his arms, watching me type his actions out with a disdainful frown on his face. 

I've got a large following waiting for this fic to come out, so I really need to hurry up and get this done for them. It's for the fans. If you don't help, I can end this fic right now and you'll never escape an unfinished wip. 

"No, you can't," Jimin doesn't believe me. He thinks he's calling my bluff but inside he's nervous I'm telling the truth. 

"Am not!" 

Am too. 

"Am not! You're lying." 

Would you like to test that theory? 

Jimin doesn't actually want to test that theory. 

"Whatever," he grumbles. 

We don't get along apparently, which makes me sad. 

But while Jimin and I have our little squabble, you've been carefully considering my offer, haven't you? 

"Fine." 

"What!?" Jimin reacts in shock at what he just heard. "You're agreeing?" 

"If we do this, we get to go home. Whatever author this is clearly does not intend to let us go unless we agree to help." 

You're right, I don't. 

Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he has no choice but to agree. He's going to agree, so I don't know why he's being like this. 

"Yeah, yeah okay enough with the commentary," he sighs. "I'll do it." 

And from that moment on, the world became a little brighter, more in focus, and Jimin felt his point of view slowly returning to his mind. 

"Thanks." 

The internal control to move and breathe and speak becomes apparent in your bones as well, filling your lungs, and sparking the tip of your tongue. You look at Jimin with a worried but attempted brave expression. 

"Where should we even start?" 

In a flash, you and Jimin are standing in the cafeteria of the school. In front of you is a two person table but only one girl sitting alone with her textbook. She's brighter than the rest of the student body and wearing different clothes, which separates her as a main character. The main female lead. 

"Guess that answers that question." 

The rest is up to you. Please, make sure the story has a happy ending. I'm counting on you guys. 

:: 

"You go talk to her." 

"No, you go talk to her." 

"Give me one good reason why I should be the one to talk to her?" 

"Uh, because you're a girl," Jimin points out the obvious, gesturing to your curvaceous figure. "She's the female lead." 

"You're way better at making friends than I am," you argue. 

"Says who?" 

"You're the extrovert." 

Even just looking at her sitting alone intimidates you. Not that you're always introverted, of course, around your family and in familiar environments you're perfectly fine. But you've never been confident in taking the initiative when it comes to meeting new people, not like Jimin. 

He scoffs, "And? This is a fanfic, I don't know how things work in this world. Besides, you're one of her own kind." 

You hit his shoulder, but his tease did lighten the mood, so he calls it a success. The first time you've smiled since waking up with him on the sidewalk. 

"Come on, you're great at bumping into people," you jest, making reference to your interaction at the basketball game with a sly grin. 

"Ha ha, very funny." 

"You don't have to do much, just figure out where we are in the story. Once we know that, we can figure out what's next," you tell him, turning him to face her direction. 

Jimin eyes her from across the cafeteria, nervously biting his lip. Yeah, he's an extrovert but he's not the best at talking to girls. You of all people should know that; he spent months teasing you because he didn't know how to approach you like a normal human. When he first saw you, he thought you were just…too pretty for a casual introduction. 

Granted, this fanfic chick is significantly less attractive than you are. But that doesn't mean she's not a girl. 

"Oh, she's coming this way." You push on his shoulder blades as he leans back, digging his heels into the ground. "Don't lose this chance, Jimin! Do you wanna get out of here?" 

"Don't rush me!" 

With a final shove, Jimin trips forwards, nearly crashing into the girl as she walks by. He manages to catch himself but not before his stumbling lands him right in the pathway of… 

"Oh!" she exclaims, jumping at the surprise of an odd boy suddenly appearing in front of her.

Jimin freezes, eyes wide and staring directly into hers. He softly chuckles and straightens out his jacket. 

"Sorry. I tripped." 

"That's okay," she smiles innocently. "I trip all the time." 

He scratches the back of his head. "You ever fall when you trip?" 

"Huh?" She tilts her head, eyebrows lifted in confusion. 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Jimin by the way," he introduces himself with a handshake, hoping the conversation can start flowing naturally now that the expected awkwardness has hopefully passed. 

The girl accepts his hand, the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's nice to meet you, Jimin. Do you ever fall when you trip?" 

He blinks. "What?" 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Your Name by the way." The girl offers a handshake…again. 

He accepts it (again) with an unsure look, carefully noting how she just repeated him, like word for word. As if she couldn't come up with her own contributions to the conversation. 

"I'm sorry, your name is…?" 

"Me," she smiles innocently, one of the few actions Jimin realizes that she knows how to do. 

"You're…" 

"Your Name." 

"Right, what is it?" 

"My name is Your Name." 

"Your name is Jimin?" 

"No, it's Your Name." 

"I don't get it." 

"You're so funny," she giggles with a soft hand to her lips. 

He huffs, "No, I'm Jimin. Who the heck are you?" 

A harsh slap strikes across his back, echoing across the cafeteria but none of the surrounding students pay it any mind. 

"Ow!" Jimin yelps, retreating from your hand. "What the hell?" 

"It's nice to meet you, Your Name," you say sweetly as if you didn't just leave a nasty red handprint on his back. "I love your top." 

"Oh, thanks! I love your top too." 

"Yep." With a sigh and a nod, you face Jimin and speak directly to him, arms crossed and hip popped out in disappointment. "The author led us to the right girl. She's the reader insert, alright." 

Your Name occupies herself, amazed by her own hands and interlocking her fingers with a wishful sigh. She's been written to fall in love with the man of her dreams, to discover angsty heartbreak and become the apple of her lover's eye. When she's not doing anything directly related to that purpose, she's just an empty shell of a character, a copycat filling space and time until her next scene. 

"She's dumb as a sack of rocks." 

"No one is reading the story right now, remember? The author is still writing it. Your Name is an empty character," you explain, scanning her perfect figure up and down with a jealous click of your tongue. 

"So, if someone reads the story…" 

"Then part of that person's character is reflected in Your Name. It's what makes fanfiction fun to read. You get to put yourself in the story." 

Okay, maybe Jimin sees the attractiveness in that. It's an escape just like video games, except more lame and pitiful. 

Your Name has yet to do or say anything else. She just sways with her hands folded against her chest, mind empty, no thoughts, unable to leave or initiate anything without the author's guidance or some other trigger. 

"Why would anyone want to be her?" 

The doors to the cafeteria burst open, immediately stealing everyone's attention. The whole building pauses in place, heads turning in slow-mo to see what the big commotion is about, choirs of gasps and the sound of panties dropping to the ground left and right. 

In walks sex on legs, dark hair fluffy with a gloved hand brushing through thick bangs, skin tight jeans and a leather bracer around his wrist. He pretends to pull an arrow from the empty quiver on his hip, shooting it and a charming wink in the direction of a cafeteria worker, chuckling when they faint against the wall with a hand over their heart. 

There's only one person who could have that kind of effect simply by walking into the room. 

"That's why," you reply, hypnotized eyes following his every move through the line to get lunch. "The main male lead." 

"So, it's all about the guy, huh?" 

"Obviously. It is a Jungkook fanfic, so yeah."

Jimin gawks. "Wait, that's supposed to be Jeon Jungkook? You mean the singer slash actor in real life?" 

"Yep," you sigh in content. Even if this is a fanfic, you're in the same room as the Jungkook and you'll never forget this day. 

"That dude doesn't know archery," Jimin pouts. 

"It's a fanfic, so he does in this story, okay? Shut up." 

Jimin just rolls his eyes, too proud to admit the way you're staring at that fanfic character makes his blood boil something awful. But you're not the only one entranced. 

Your Name hasn't been able to blink since Jungkook walked in, hands folded shyly at her chest and lips slightly parted. She holds her breath as he struts in her direction, whipping his hair out of his eyes only for it to gracefully fall over his forehead again. 

Jungkook passes by with his lunch, but he doesn't even give Your Name a glance, not even the barest of recognitions. She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Just a defeated sigh when Jungkook sits down at a table with a bunch of other students and not her. 

She pulls her bag further up her shoulder, putting her head down and walking out of the cafeteria as unnoticeably as possible. Jimin watches her, a surprising sense of sympathy for her despite reminding himself she's a fictional character. 

You lift a finger to your temple, leaning into Jimin's side as you both watch the scene play out. "I understand." 

"What? What just happened?" 

"We have to get Jungkook together with Your Name. She's the shy, unnoticed school girl and he's the popular, sporty hunk with a heart of gold." 

"Oh come on, that's the worst trope ever." He rolls his eyes in Jungkook's direction. "Heart of gold my ass. He just walked right passed Your Name and didn't even flinch." 

"Like you would know anything about fanfic tropes." 

"Video games have tropes too, you know." 

You roll your lips tight when he sticks his tongue out at you, trying not to smile at how cute he was just now. 

"Like what?" 

Jimin begins counting on his fingers. "I could name five off the top of my head." 

"Are any of them the shy school girl and popular sports star?" you ask. 

He drops his hand and expression. "No." 

"Then you can reference video games again when they can actually help us," you say, looking back at Jungkook's table. "For how, we need to figure out a way to get those two together so we can end the fic and get out of here. Any ideas?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I don't know. I'm hungry." 

You're deep in thought, unconcerned with Jimin's empty stomach. He starts rubbing it over his shirt, whining your name and poking your arm over and over. 

"Let's eat something, please." 

"We don't have meal swipes for this place," you reply shortly, shooing his hand away without ever once losing focus on Jungkook. 

Do fanfic characters usually use meal swipes? There's no hurt in trying. The author probably had way better things to write about than whether or not the characters used their meal swipes or paid cash for their lunch. 

Besides, this is the spitting image of your real life cafeteria back on campus. If this school is based on that school, then maybe his meal swipes can work. (Does that mean the author goes to your and Jimin's university? Whoa.) 

You're not going anywhere. Might as well try. 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin uses a meal swipe to get a tray and two plates for a much needed meal break. So, he makes his way around the different stations of the cafeteria and collects a little bit of everything onto a tray, stacking piles of dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese especially tall. 

After tucking two canned sodas under his arm, Jimin finds you right where he left you. Standing in the middle of the floor, eyes glued to the archery star, and biting your nail into a numb. 

"Hey. You should eat something." 

You look to find the tray of food he's gathered, impressed but mostly grateful. 

"You're probably right," you finally admit when your stomach unmistakably starts gurgling. "Food is important." 

"Come on, we can think of a plan while we eat." 

The two of you make your way to a free table within eye shot of Jungkook's table and slip into opposite booths. Jimin pops open your soda for you, a small smirk on his lips when you gasp at the meal in front of you. 

"Dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese? Oh fuck yes, my favorite nostalgic meal ever! How did you know?" 

"It's mine too." 

:: 

After a lengthy discussion at the cafeteria, you and Jimin decide to map out what you already know and what you need to know on the way to an upcoming archery tournament. 

Seeing as Jungkook didn't pay Your Name any mind in the cafeteria, but he also didn't display any tension to suggest a break up or fight, it's safe to assume they haven't met yet. Which means you're at the start of the fic, the very very beginning. Depending on the author, this could be a 5K marathon or a 25K marathon. 

As the author, I'll give you a hint: it's longer than 5K. 

You stuff your phone back into your jean pocket after reading the update, feeling tired just thinking about the work ahead of you. 

"Author said it's a lengthy fic. Which means we've got multiple scenes to get through. We could be here for a while." 

Jimin swings his arms as he walks beside you, keeping to the outside of the sidewalk so he's closer to the road. 

"Shit." 

"Yeah," you sigh, fanning yourself. 

"Are you warm?" 

"Are you not?" you ask in shock, upgrading to two-handed fanning. "It's a million degrees out here. How are you still wearing that jacket?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I'm fine." 

The sun beats down on your sweater harshly, punishing you for still having it on. Soon enough, you can't bear it anymore. Your arms cross in front of you, fingers pinching the hem of your top and pulling it over your head to reveal a white tank underneath. Instant relief hits your skin. 

You tie the sleeves of your sweater around your waist and tie up your hair so it's off your neck. 

"Much better," you sigh to yourself. Now maybe you can actually think without getting heat stroke. 

"So–" Jimin clears his throat, eyes forward and nowhere else. "So you've read this story before, right?" 

"I've read stories similar to it, so it should be pretty simple to figure out. The archery tournament should be a good place to start. Sport events are usually where major plot development happens." 

"I sure hope you're right." 

Of course, you're right. Jungkook is the archery champion and Your Name is bound to be around here somewhere. After all, who would give up the chance to watch their crush excel at what they do best? 

No doubt, this scene will be an important milestone in their relationship. You just have to remember your role as wing woman and make sure Jungkook notices Your Name this time around. 

The field is decorated with targets and large, fake deer in the distance. All the archers are dressed in their gear, looking fine as heck you must admit. Never thought archery would do it for you but the strap across the chest and holster around the waist accentuates more curves than you were ready for. Damn. 

"There." You direct Jimin's attention with the point of your finger at the provided refreshments. "Your Name is by the water dispenser." 

You call out to her as you approach, ducking to avoid the many eyes of the bleachers because good god there's a lot of students here. The crowd makes you feel rather uneasy, but you push your introverted tendencies to the side and focus on the task at hand. 

"Oh, hi ___. Hi, Jimin," she greets you happily. 

Jimin nods at her, but his focus is on getting a cup of water. 

"Are you excited for the archers? Who do you think is gonna win?" you ask with a friendly touch to her arm, trying to be social. 

"Of course!" she answers with an innocent smile. "Jungkook will win for sure." 

"Have you cheered him on yet?" Jimin asks Your Name while handing you the cup of water. You gratefully down it. So, he gets you another one. 

"Everyone is cheering for Jungkook." 

"But did you tell him personally that you're cheering for him?" 

Your Name's smile fades a little, pulling back into a shy expression as she tucks her hair behind her ear. 

"No." 

"You totally should," Jimin says while you gulp down the second cup of water he filled for you. "He'd appreciate the support." 

"You think?" 

"Trust me, I'm a guy. If a cute girl like you wished me good luck on my tournament, hell I'd wanna win just for you." 

Her cheeks instantly flush, eyelids fluttering as her body turns to face Jimin fully, the dim around her light starting to shine brighter. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

Your Name rolls her lips, running fingers through the tips of her hair. "Do you have a tournament coming up? I'd love to cheer for you, Jimin." 

"Me?" He blinks. "Uhh, no. I'm not really into sports." 

"What are you into?" 

"Gaming," he says slowly. 

"That's so cool!" 

"Umm…" 

Jimin shares a look with you out of the side of his eye, unsure how the focus shifted to his interests. You interrupt with a hand on her shoulder, low-key turning her to face Jungkook's direction again. 

"Jungkook is into archery. Isn't that cool?" 

Your Name's neck stays turned toward Jimin until you place two palms on your cheeks and make her look in the direction of the archery team. 

She scans Jungkook head to toe. The archer tightens his quiver, adjusting it on his hip before bending over to tie his shoe. Never thought you'd be jealous of a man's ass but goddamn, the author blessed him with zero regard for their weak audience. 

"Wish him good luck like this, watch me–" You hold up two fists and smile as big as you possibly can, making your voice higher pitched and turning your knees in for a cuter effect. "You can do it, Oppa! Fighting!" 

Jimin nearly does a spit take. You're fucking adorable. 

Your Name seems unsure though. "You really think he'll notice me if I do that?" 

"I'm sure he will. Now go get 'em!" You give her a little booty pat to send her on her way. 

She timidly makes her way over to Jungkook while you and Jimin observe. This will work. This has to work. Jungkook doesn't have to fall in love with her right now, you remind yourself. All this has to do is get him to notice her, put her in his radar. This is the meet cute, the part where he realizes she's on his side. He finds a companion in someone he never expected, a shy bookworm he's never noticed is his biggest fan. 

Jimin leans into your ear and whispers, "Call me Oppa. Just once." 

"Not even in your dreams." 

"Damn it. Worth a try." 

While Your Name doesn't knock his socks off like you hoped, at least Jungkook recognized her efforts and thanked her for the cheer. They don't immediately hit it off and he doesn't look for her in the crowd during the tournament, but that's okay. He knows she exists now, so essentially this scene completed its purpose. 

It's almost halfway through the tournament and nothing else has happened. Your Name sat down in the bleachers looking somewhat lost as to where to go since you claimed her spot by the water dispenser. 

"Don't worry," Jimin says, watching Jungkook shoot his third bullseye in a row, "it's not a 5K fic, remember? Something new will happen any second. The plot has to progress somehow." 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin is right. 

From seemingly nowhere, an arrow comes shooting right at you. Instinctively, you squat to the ground at the sound of the arrow whistling past you, piercing and shattering the water dispenser beside you. In slow-mo, of course.  

A small wave of water spills out, soaking through your tank and all down your back. 

All you can do is squat there for a moment, taking in what the actual hell just happened. The slow-mo effect dissipates but the entire field has gone quiet, including the idiot who just shot that arrow. 

Jimin kneels in front of you. "Oh my god! Are you okay? That arrow didn't hit you, did it?" 

You shake your head, staring at the ground in silent shock, panic rising in your chest. 

"Thank god," he hangs his head in utter relief and sighs, "that was way too close." 

You agree, trying to catch your breath when he offers you a hand to help you stand. 

The moment you're back on your feet, your whole fanfic world freezes. Even Jimin's eyes have gone wide and his tongue gets tied. 

You immediately cross your arms over your chest, curling in on yourself and trying to cover your soaked through white tank top that's sticking to you like a wetsuit, totally and completely see through. Your brightly colored bra does little to help the situation. 

Jimin doesn't hesitate for a single second. He strips his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, zipping it to your chin. When you don't move, he pulls you into his chest for some extra coverage and comfort. 

You're not sure what to do, so your face ends up hiding in his chest, eyes squeezed shut, wishing you could disappear in his arms. 

"Come on," he whispers, ushering you off the field, one of his arms wrapped around you protectively while the other hovers over your face so you don't see the eyes of the crowd watching you exit. 

Consequently, you don't see Jungkook's curious eyes following you either. 

Jimin sits you down on a bench a little ways around the corner where there are no spectators. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, kneeling in front of you, hand resting on the bench beside your thigh. 

Your stale expression doesn't shift but your eyes start to fill with tears, the white of your pupils turning pink and your eyelids fluttering at the sting. 

Jimin feels his heart drop at the same time your first tear does. The first time he's ever seen you cry. 

"Everyone was staring at me. They wouldn't stop staring…" 

For the first time, Jimin is witnessing how much your introverted personality affects you. Being embarrassed is a common human experience, but it's so much worse for you. Those kinds of things are only magnified by a thousand due to your already anxious state in large crowds. 

Your body closes up, limbs curling in on themselves even further inside Jimin's jacket.

"They all saw, didn't they?" 

"No," he says immediately, causing your eyes to lift hopefully. "I was quick with the jacket, so I don't think anyone saw much of anything." 

You sniffle. "You're sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

You know he's being kind, trying to make you feel better. Usually when people say things for the sole purpose of making you feel better, it doesn't help much. But even though you know Jimin is lying, his little smile and confident nose scrunch are cute enough to make you relax somewhat. 

"Thanks," you shrug as a gesture to his jacket around your shoulders. 

He smiles at you and it makes things a little better somehow. The background blurs, allowing you to focus only on him, putting the rest of the situation into perspective and making things feel all a little less daunting. Life doesn't feel as serious when Jimin smiles, and that's a rare experience for you. Out here, away from all the people, you can regather yourself and process things clearly. 

You wanna touch him, just to be in physical contact with him again, but he stands up first, making your jerk your hand away from where it was reaching out inconspicuously. 

"I'll go get you a towel and see if I can steal a dry shirt from someone." 

"You're leaving?" The question popped out before you could stop it. 

He holds back a teasing smile. "Should I stay here?" 

"No, it's fine," you say quickly, turning your knees in. "Go get me a shirt. Hurry up." 

He just snickers, whispering "cute" under his breath before sticking his hands in his jean pockets and casually making his way back toward the archery field. If anything, Your Name will probably have an extra top you can borrow. It'll be small but it'll probably work in a pinch. 

Now that you think about it, you might be in this fic for a while. What about clothes, sleep and hygiene? Do you have a room in the dorms or will you and Jimin have to scrap on the side of the street for basic necessities? The author wouldn't leave you in that horrible situation, would they? 

"Hey, you." 

That's not Jimin's voice. 

You turn your head to see none other than the main male lead confidently coming over to your bench. 

"Just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," he says. 

You nod, trying not to be stunned speechless that your in real life celebrity crush is speaking to you as a fanfic character in an alternative universe. Holy shit! 

Jungkook smiles. "Thank goodness. I saw that arrow heading towards you and I think my heart stopped for a solid minute. You've got quick reflexes." 

"Thankfully," you exhale. "My life definitely flashed before my eyes though." 

"What did you see?" he casually asks, taking a seat beside you on the bench. 

You're suddenly very aware of how close he is, shoulder to shoulder. When he turns his head toward you, the little sparkles in his eyes become noticeable and you can make out a small freckle on the underside of the curve of his bottom lip. 

"I saw school. My family. My friends." 

"A boyfriend?" 

"No." 

"You're single?" 

You nod slowly. "Yes." 

Jungkook seems pleased to hear this. He adjusts in his seat, a confident smug on his lips and an indifferent shrug on his shoulders. 

"We should maybe go out sometime, if you're interested. You know, we could be…friends?" 

If you were feeling more confident or outgoing in this moment, you might call him out on the fact that he just confirmed you were single and then asked you out as a friend when you guys don't even know each other. He definitely thought he was smoother than he actually was just now. 

"Yeah sure," you reply, rather small and quiet. 

"Great," Jungkook hands you his phone. "Put in your number." 

With no reason not to in your mind, you do as he requests, adding a signature koala emoji at the end of your name. 

"Why a koala?" he asks amused. 

"They're cute."

"You're cuter." 

Damn, that response was fast. As if he had it right on the tip of his tongue, ready to go for anyone. 

Surprisingly, it doesn't make you nearly as fluttery as you expected. It was a good line, but the Flynn Rider smolder just isn't doing it for you right now.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear but it's not flattering and it doesn't make your heart flutter. There's no slow-mo and the world around you doesn't disappear. Actually, it feels kind of awkward and he doesn't put your hair in the right place so it just falls again. 

Jungkook stands, slipping his phone into his pocket now that he's got your info. 

"I'll text you," he promises before waving goodbye, his other hand scratching the back of his head bashfully as if he's not used to getting girl's numbers. He totally is though. 

Okay. Okay, don't freak out. This is a good thing. Now you've got a connection with both Your Name and Jungkook. This way will be easier to manipulate their relationship and eventually write a happy ending. That's the goal. In order to get out of here, you need a happy ending. That's what the author asked for. 

Jimin returns a few moments later with a dry shirt and a towel. You tell him what happened, and he doesn't seem very pleased that Jungkook has your phone number. Not that he's willing to tell you why that bothers him, but either way what's done is done. 

Now it's time for the next chapter. 

:: 

"Actually, I think we should chill for now." 

Jimin can't be serious, is he serious?  

"I mean, why not? It's almost night anyway. Look, the sun is setting and we haven't even had dinner yet." 

"Okay, so we go back to the cafeteria, get some dino nuggies, and then keep working," you reply. 

But your dear companion doesn't seem too thrilled with that plan. He shakes his head, face scrunched in displeasure. 

"Let's go out instead. I don't want dino nuggies." 

You gasp, hand over your heart. "Don't want dino nuggies? When does anyone not want dino nuggies? They are the only matter in existence not capable of disappointment." 

Jimin laughs with you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Why are you suddenly disappointed? 

"Yeah, okay. I still would rather go get pizza or something," he comments. 

"With pineapple?" 

"Ew, no I'm not a psychopath." 

"Well, I just figured since you don't want dino nuggies, there must be something wrong with you." 

Jimin rolls his eyes, not noticing the cute way you smile at him, genuinely enjoying your conversation. He's actually kinda fun to talk to. He's sweeter than you originally thought when all you knew about him was that he liked to tease you. There's something captivating about the shape of his mouth when he talks, the movement of his neck, the shifting of his eyes from you to the sunset. 

He leans back on his hands and looks out at the campus. The best place to get a bird's eye view is up here at the monogram. You can see the whole campus. Just as you expected, it's an exact replica of your campus back in real life. 

Somehow, you find yourself watching his profile instead, the lines of his jaw and the curve of his nose. He's got soft features and they match his personality really well, you think. He's handsome and he's not going to abandon you here. He proved that today. 

"Hey." 

Jimin turns his head to look at you. 

"I'm glad you're here with me." Your heart rate spikes as soon as you say those words, the realization that you just said them out loud hits you like a ton of bricks. "I mean, I'm not glad we're stuck in a fanfic, that sucks, but if I'm gonna be stuck in here, it would suck more to be alone because then, you know, it would be worse because I'd be alone, not without you specifically but just alone in general, ummm….I guess." 

He just waits patiently until you're done stuttering like an idiot, his smile slowly growing with each embarrassed syllable. His eyes are full of fondness but you don't notice them while you're too busy trying to calm the palpitations in your chest by picking at blades of grass. What's this nervous energy all of a sudden? 

"We can have pineapple on the pizza if you want," he says casually. 

"I don't like pineapple." You steal a glance at him only to do a double take when you find him grinning like an idiot. "What's that face for?" 

"Because I didn't know that about you. And now I do." 

You're not sure how to respond, so you just scoff under your breath, muttering to yourself and pulling your knees to your chest, suppressing the desire to ask him about his favorite dino nuggie shape. 

"Wanna bring the pizza back up here and eat?" 

"Yeah, that sounds nice." 

:: 

How you fell asleep outside, you'll never know. How you ended up cuddled beside Jimin is even more of a mystery. 

Beside is a weak term to use when your whole body is curled into his front, one leg slipped between his legs and your arms tucked between your chests. He's lazily wrapped around you, arm laid across your side and nose almost touching yours. 

When the chill of midnight wakes you up, you're sure it's a dream. His eyes happen to open at the same moment, a deep inhale through his nose as his world comes into view, as you come into view. 

"Hi," he grumbles, voice scratchy and low. 

"Am I dreaming about you now?" 

"You probably got cold." 

You look down, trying to move your leg but it doesn't want to pull away from the comfy spot it's found between his legs. When you look back up, he's watching you softly, half lidded eyes swollen from a rough few hours and the greasy pizza. 

"So, this is a dream." 

"Depends," his lips move through the dark, the feeling of his knuckle softly rubbing your cheek down to your chin and finally across your bottom lip, "if it is, are you gonna move?" 

"No." 

"Then this is a dream." 

"Good." 

:: 

"What if you pretend to be in love with Your Name?" 

Jimin doesn't seem too excited about that suggestion. He lifts one brow and sticks his hands in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder at where the female lead sits at the opposite side of the cafeteria. 

"But I don't like her," he says flatly, "plus she's a fanfic character. It doesn't make sense to ask her out." 

"It doesn't have to make sense. It's a fanfic," you argue, leaning your back against the wall. "Plus, she's cute, come on. We need her to trust us." 

Not as cute as you. And she's dumb. Jimin doesn't know if he could last a whole evening as her date let alone pretend to be attracted to her. She's not his type anyway. 

"Statistically, dating someone based on physical attraction alone only works like two percent of the time," he assures you, sticking out his tongue at the sour taste of just the idea. 

"Well, just pretend this is one of the times when it does." 

"Sorry, I don't have enough experience points for that." 

You roll your eyes. "Ha ha, very funny. Just go ask her out. We don't have any other ideas than to make Jungkook jealous somehow, and me dating Jungkook won't work because Your Name is too timid to act on jealousy." 

Well, that does it. Now Jimin is determined to find a better solution. There's got to be a way to get those crazy kids together that doesn't involve you getting with Jungkook or Jimin acting like he can last longer than ten minutes with Your Name before wanting to suck his brain out through his ears. 

"Look, every story has an algorithm, right? We just have to find this storyline's algorithm and use it to make the ending get here faster so we can get the fuck out of here." 

"What do you mean?" you ask, not following along at all. But you're interested in where Jimin is going with this exactly. 

He glances across the room at Your Name, eyes bouncing between her seat on the far wall and Jungkook's table surrounded by fellow archers who think they're cool because they can shoot a tree from thirty yards. 

"Okay, hear me out," Jimin starts talking with his hands, which means he wants you to really listen, so you do, "you know how in video games–" 

"No." 

He rolls his eyes but there's no mistaking that tiny smile hidden in the corner of his lips. "Well in video games there's something called an algorithm." 

"This is fanfiction, Jimin, algorithms are a math thing." 

"They're also a story thing. The algorithm is the step by step process of what eventually gets you to the ending. It's what draws you in, makes it attractive. Sorta like the formula to the story. Predictability." 

"Okay," you reply slowly. "I think I understand." 

"So, what's the algorithm of this fanfic? What's the thing that makes the story move forward to get to the ending?" 

You have to think for a moment, consider the characters and setting. What's the main premise that's going to eventually trigger the progression of the storyline? The glue between the romantic interests? 

"Opposites attract?" 

"Getting warmer." He taps his chin. "Anything else it could be?" 

"Sexual tension?" 

"That's it, you're a genius!" Jimin lights up. 

A sense of warmth fills your cheeks knowing you answered correctly, and you have to stop yourself from smiling like a middle schooler when Jimin praises you. 

He leans in closer, placing his hands on either side of you on the wall, encasing your smaller frame in his presence. 

"A build up of sexual tension between two unlikely characters," his eyes trace the lines of your nose to your lips, "that eventually erupts in a heated finale of confession and passion." 

You exhale, unaware you were even holding your breath, chest sinking and then filling up again with much needed oxygen. 

There's that infamous slow-mo, the one that keeps happening during the most inconvenient moments. You're still not sure if Jimin also experiences it - probably not - but it's doing things to you. 

His features become softer and rounder, the illusion of a blurry background causes your attention to be enraptured that much easier. His eyes gently blink and when they open, they've moved upward, now looking directly into yours. 

The moment is all too fleeting when his expression shifts into something horrified and he suddenly clears his throat and stands up straight again. 

You brush off your clothes, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible because whatever the heck that was has no impact on the goal at hand. No matter how unusually pretty his eyes are. 

"So," you pull your hair over your shoulder and then toss it back again, "we need to build sexual tension between Jungkook and Your Name." 

"Luckily, Your Name already thinks Jungkook is sexy. But how to make Jungkook notice her…" Jimin comments, a hand on his hip and the other scratching his head. 

And then an idea clicks in your mind. "A costume change." 

"Be serious." 

"I am serious. In fanfiction, when a character changes their outfit to something sexy or different from their usual vibe, it makes the other characters notice them. OC's do it all the time." 

Jimin guesses that could work. He tries to put it into perspective by imagining you wearing something you normally wouldn't. His gaming sweatshirt would be much too big for you considering it's big on him. The zipper is broken so it would probably fall off your one shoulder. His cat ear headset certainly would be a costume change, not to mention the sight of your beautiful legs in leggings, or even better, oversized pajama shorts and fluffy socks. He imagines how cute you'd be sitting in his lap and letting him teach you how to use the controller, whining when your character dies for the tenth time but then getting so happy when you win. 

Maybe you even twist around and hug his neck, maybe you're so happy you give him a kiss. Maybe the two of you get so caught up in the kiss that you forget the game and end up straddling his lap in his gamer chair. Maybe things get a little heated and he takes off your sweatshirt. You're nervous but he makes sure you're comfortable first and foremost because he just wants you to feel safe and loved because you deserve to be taken care of and kissed like that. You deserve so much. 

Yeah, a costume change could work. 

Jimin responds before his imagination can go further, "Okay, so how do we do that?" 

At that moment, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

[unknown] hey there cutie ;) it's JK ;) my team is throwing a party tonight to celebrate our win at the tournament ;) wanna swing by? ;) 

Putting aside the major turn off that Jungkook just asked you to a party without indicating that he will be taking any kind of responsibility for the fact that he invited you to a party, this is just what the doctor ordered. 

You show Jimin the screen. "Boom." 

"Why four winky faces? Wait a damn minute, is he asking you out on a date right now?" 

"Yep." 

"Didn't even offer to pick you up," he grumbles, "what a loser." 

"It's still a party." 

"I guess." 

"A sexy party," you clarify, "probably with alcohol. There'll be a bunch of NPC's and I'll make sure Your Name wears something that'll catch Jungkook's attention." 

As much as Jimin is dreading going to a major social event that's not a sports game or gaming tournament, he can't deny that this is probably going to be your greatest chance at making some progress in the story. 

He gives a little side eye, a smile in the corner of his lips as the two of you head to get food. "I didn't think you knew any video game lingo." 

You nudge his shoulder as you walk. "I know a little. I live in the 21st century after all." 

Jimin commits your giggle to his memory because, damn, it wasn't slow-mo but he felt his world light up because of it. 

You get two trays and casually make your way over to where Your Name is finishing up her lunch. 

"Hey, mind if we join you?" 

"Sure," she smiles innocently - is it just you or is it annoying how symmetrical and sweet her smile is? 

Jimin takes the seat between you both, instantly regretting the decision when Your Name scoots a little closer so their shoulders touch. He looks at you as if you're going to fix it, but you brush it off, starting to eat while moving the conversation along. 

"So, Your Name, did you get the invite to Jungkook's party?" 

"I heard about it–" wow news travels fast in fanfics, "--but I haven't gotten an invitation." 

"You're in luck! Jimin needs a plus one." 

"I do?" the unsuspecting victim asks in terror. 

Your Name instantly starts acting shy, leaning even closer to him but turning her face away and only glancing to feign vulnerability or whatever other reason girls do that shit. 

"You're going to the party, Jimin?" 

"Apparently." He glares at you. 

"I'd love to be your plus one. I don't typically go to parties, but it might be fun to go together." She bites her lip, catching Jimin's easily distracted attention. 

Wait a second, is he actually staring at her? 

"Really? You want to go with me?" 

"Yeah, I really do!" 

His expression softens. "No girl has ever wanted to go to a party with me. I'm kind of a geek." 

Your Name shakes her head with a gasp, placing a hand on his bicep with a subtle squeeze. "Oh no! You're not a geek at all! You're the coolest guy I know." 

You swear there are hearts in her eyes. Bitch. Can she back the fuck up? He's not a piece of meat. 

Jimin looks totally lost. Flustered and very lost. Clearly, he's never been in this situation before. He turns to you for guidance and you reach around him to peel her hand off his arm, starting to regret your plan of having them go together. 

"Sounds like you guys have a plan then." That came out a little more disappointed than you intended. 

"Yeah," Your Name agrees with a soft giggle. "Should I meet you there?" 

"I'll pick you up." Because that's what a gentleman does. 

"Kay." She sways back and forth for a moment just looking at him, eventually picking up her tray and gathering her bookbag. "See you later then, Jiminie." 

She practically skips away, her little skirt bouncing at her thighs. Jimin watches until she's out of the building, out of the scene, out of sight. And then he collapses in the booth with a tired sigh. 

"That was intense." 

"Jiminie?" you mock and cross your arms. "Where does she get off calling you Jiminie? You're not even dating, it's just a party." 

"If you're that jealous, you can call me Jiminie too." 

"I'm not jealous." Your reply is a little too fast, mumbling after, "...nothing to be jealous about." 

He wants to call you out but you're cute like this, and he doesn't want to stifle your jealousy just yet. So instead, he lets you grumble through the rest of your meal together, resting his cheek in his hand and chuckling to himself each time you roll your eyes or stuff your cheeks a bit too full to keep yourself from cursing out loud. 

:: 

Jimin doesn't own trendy clothes. Actually, in this universe, he doesn't own any extra clothes. Turns out when you get transported into a fanfic, your dorm room doesn't come with you. A dumb rule but whatever. 

Thankfully, Jungkook is kind enough to lend him some party wear at your request. Not that the archery star is obligated to share his exclusive wardrobe, but he wants to get on your good side, and Jimin is in desperate need of an upgrade. 

Jimin steps out of the closet and grimaces. "It's a little…tight." 

"That's the point." Jungkook whistles. "Girls like tight." 

"I like breathing." 

"You look hot." 

Despite his requests for something more comfortable, Jungkook is not the most accommodating character. His compliments help a little bit, but Jimin can't sit down without popping a button and that's an issue. 

After Jimin has been dressed comes the agonizing process of choosing what Jungkook will wear to his own party. He leans against the door frame while Jungkook pulls more shirts from the closet and tosses them on the bed one by one. 

"So," Jimin talks in the meantime, casually looking at his feet and the walls, "you sure you're cool coming with me to pick up Your Name?" 

"Yeah, of course, man," Jungkook says, trying on the first top and checking it out in the mirror. "___ will be there anyway, so I'll just pick her up at the same time." 

The fact that Jungkook was not going to pick you up without the convenience of Jimin's date is just outrageous. As if guys should need a reason to be gentlemen. But apparently Jungkook needs more than that. If you ask Jimin, he needs a reality check. How ironic. 

"Plus she's your girlfriend, so I don't mind," Jungkook adds. 

Jimin's eyes go wide. "Your Name? She's not my girlfriend," he quickly corrects. 

"She's not?" Jungkook seems shocked, but then shrugs it off. "Oh." 

"Oh?" 

"It's just…does she know that?" 

"What do you mean?" 

Jungkook sighs as if he's not supposed to be sharing this secret information. He slips a shirt over his head, taking his time in answering while Jimin's concern grows out of hand. 

"Your Name has been going around telling everyone that you asked her to the party, so people just kinda assumed you two are a thing." 

"I didn't – I mean, I guess I did sorta ask her but it was more of a convenience thing. I don't like her like that," Jimin says. 

"No worries, man, you don't have to explain anything to me." 

Surprised his answer was satisfactory, Jimin decides now may be an excellent time to lure the conversation in a different direction. He's not only here to get an outfit for the party, he's here on a mission. Step one to get Jungkook and Your Name together is to get Jungkook thinking about her. 

"So like, if someone else wanted to ask out Your Name, that'd be totally fine." 

"Cool." 

Jimin nonchalantly drags his toe across the ground, picking at his nails and shrugging as if his next comment isn't meant to be important. 

"Would you wanna ask her out?" 

"Me?" Jungkook chuckles to himself. "I mean, she's cute but I don't really know her that well. I'm glad you're the one bringing her actually." 

"Why?" 

"Your Name is friends with ___, right?" 

Uh oh. Jimin doesn't like where this is going if this is going where he thinks this is going. There was a sliver of hope left that Jungkook hadn't completely counted Your Name out of the game, but it looks like his worst fear is becoming more and more real. 

"I'd rather get to know ___ better to be honest. She's less, you know, ditsy." 

Well, Jimin can't argue with that statement. He keeps trying, he has to. Even if the hope of getting out of this story without any broken hearts is already long gone. 

"Your Name is cute though," he says in a positive tone. 

"Yeah, of course she is." Jungkook's head drops back and he smiles at the ceiling like an idiot. "But ___ is just…" 

Incredible? Enchanting? Hilarious? Genuine? Smart? Dedicated? Inspirational? 

"Hot." 

Jimin waits for him to say something else – something about your humor or sense of individuality or favorite shape of dino nuggies – but Jungkook doesn't mention any of Jimin's favorite things about you. 

"Just hot?" 

"What, you don't think so?" 

"Of course, I think she's attractive." 

"You'd have to be blind not to," Jungkook winks, gathering his shoes and spritzing some cologne into the air just to walk under it. "Besides, I'm supposed to be the hottest girl on campus." 

"Who said that?" 

Jungkook's attitude shifts for a moment, something somber that makes him appear more human than he has before. His usual main character glow dims and a filter flickers for just a moment, long enough for Jimin to glimpse something that was hidden before. 

"You know, just people. I mean, if I'm not supposed to get the girl, then what? What should I do?" 

It's a weird moment, one that Jimin isn't quite sure how to label. There's a dullness in Jungkook's eyes, behind which is a thought he'd never thought before. His eyes lower to the floor in a few blinks, the corners of his lips sinking too, and then it hits Jimin like a truck. 

Jungkook isn't happy. Not by a long shot. 

He shakes it off as soon as Jimin notices it and plasters his winning, stunning smile over whatever realism was showing. 

"How do I look?" 

Like the boy of every girl's dream. It hurts a little bit to look at Jungkook and know that's your type. Because Jimin will never be that guy. It's not his character, not his profile. He won't ever be a fanfic boy who wears designer clothes and always says the right thing and has perfect hair. He won't ever be good at archery or acting, or be able to make you swoon simply by walking across the room. 

You want a Jungkook guy, and that's not Jimin. 

"You look perfect." 

:: 

Your Name is so pretty, there's no question. The girl of every boy's dream. But her wardrobe is…well. Let's just say her style is a bit bright compared to your preferred color palette. 

"Come on!" she urges you, bouncing on her bed and clapping her dainty hands. "Let's see it!" 

This is so stupid. Clothes are not this important, so why you have to try on fifteen different outfits just to make a fanfic character happy doesn't sound logical. Then again, has anything in this world been logical so far? 

You shyly step out of the closet and into view, pulling down the material of your skirt to your mid-thigh. Layers of bracelets and patterned stockings flatter your body type while your halter top shows off round shoulders. 

"Wow," she says breathlessly, "you're beautiful." 

Okay maybe you feel a little pretty, but you didn't come here to get compliments. As long as she doesn't make you change again, perhaps you can actually make some progress on the story. 

"Make up time!" Your Name announces, patting the seat in front of her mirror for you to sit. 

"Oh, I don't need any, thanks." 

"Of course, you don't need any, but it's fun to wear it," she gives you a sassy shoulder and clicks her tongue, gesturing for you to sit anyway. 

Her smile says you don't have the choice. 

As she starts with some cleansing pads to make sure your skin is ready, you figure this is as good as any time to talk about what girls usually talk about during scenes like this. 

"So, boys," you start with an awkward chuckle, "they're cute." 

"Boys are the best!" 

"Especially Jungkook. He's super cute, right?" You open one eye while she does the shadow for the other. 

Her lips spread into a sly grin, pausing your makeup so she can gasp. "Do you like Jungkook?" 

"What? Me? No!" 

"You totally do! You have a crush on Jungkook, oh my god! That's so cute, ___, you guys are so cute together. I can totally see it!" 

"No! I don't have a crush on Jungkook, he's just a friend. I swear." You have to cut her off before she gets too excited about this completely wrong idea.

"Oh." She seems disappointed. "But isn't he taking you to the party?" 

"He's – well, yeah – but it's more of a convenience thing. I don't like him like that." 

"Then who's your crush?" 

"It's–" 

Whoa, were you about to say Jimin? You'd have to cut your tongue off if it did that. Unacceptable and unhelpful, why would he even be on your mind right now? This scene isn't about who you like anyway. 

"I don't have a crush." Playing it off with a vague statement is probably wise. 

Your Name pauses where she stands, a glitch-like twitch on her lips when she tries to respond. She starts to speak but backspaces over and over, like an unsure author rewriting a line again and again. 

"But…you're such girlfriend material," she finally gets a full sentence out. 

"Thanks, but that doesn't mean I have to crush on someone." 

She actually looks a little worried for you as well as confused. "Then what do you do all day?" 

"Go to school, play games, study, hang out with friends, write fanfi– uhh, write fantasy stories." That was a close one. "Just whatever makes me happy." 

"Oh." 

It's very faint, but you swear you see her eyes dull for a moment. Her main character gleam flickers out and what's left seems…real. Her shoulders slump into a lower position, the usual pep in her limbs drained while this seemingly brand new concept swims in her mind. 

She looks down at herself unimpressed, unsure. 

"Do you wanna change your clothes? They look uncomfortable," you ask slowly, not wanting to assume but also not trying to hinder whatever sudden character development may be happening. 

"Oh no! I wasn't…well, I'm supposed to…I dressed up for Jiminie," she tells you innocently, "but the skirt is kinda…short, I think." 

You take her hands and smile confidently. "Do you have an outfit you feel more comfortable in?" 

She nods. 

"Then you should wear that instead." 

"What if Jiminie doesn't like it?" she frowns. 

"So what? To hell with what Jimin thinks. To hell with what any boy thinks." You stand with half done makeup, Your Name's gaze following you in wonder and amazement. "Is it in your closet?" 

She tentatively follows behind, watching you search through the many dresses and skirts hanging prettily organized by color and style. 

"Which one is it?" you ask over your shoulder. 

Your Name shyly points to the very back of the closet, to a small dresser with a single drawer. You open it and immediately gasp. 

"Your Name, this is perfect!" 

"Really?" 

"Of course!" You pull out the clothes and hold them up to her frame, giggling at the sight of her lips slowly twisting into perhaps the first genuine smile you've witnessed from her. "It's your favorite outfit, right?" 

"Yeah," she shyly admits. "Because it's comfy." 

Then your eyes light up brighter than any main character, an aura of gentleness and genius emitting from your very body. 

"Do you have a second pair?" 

:: 

He's not sure why he's so nervous. It's not this is a legit date, plus he doesn't even like Your Name. 

Jungkook gives him a nudge. "Smile when she comes down the stairs. Girls like that."

The previous conversation lingers in Jimin's mind, different possible outcomes if he had said something else, if he had kept the convo focused on Your Name for a little while longer. Eventually, the boys got to talking about archery and Jungkook led the conversation from there with hardly enough time for Jimin to comment. 

For what it was all worth, Jimin didn't mind hearing about the different types of arrows and their tendencies when matched with a recurve bow versus a compound bow. Jungkook is clearly passionate about it, so he let the fanfic character rant. It's what friends do. 

"Are they almost done?" Jungkook checks his phone and chuckles. "Girls. They take forever to get all dolled up, huh? It's cute that ___ wants to look nice for me." 

Jimin starts to reply, but it's pointless when you arrive at the top of the stairs. 

"Hi, guys! Sorry for making you wait." 

With absolutely zero concern for your posture, you skip down the stairs, jumping off the last one and landing directly in front of Jungkook. 

"I'm ready!" 

He gawks at you, blinking and unable to utter a single word. You're wearing a blue sweatshirt with matching solid blue sweatpants. Your hair is tied into a messy bun, all makeup cleaned off, and ugg boots with bows on the back. The only accessory is a cute pair of casual studs in your ears that match your blue aesthetic. 

You give him a once-over and smile. "You look nice, Jungkook." 

"___," Jimin catches your attention while Jungkook glitches, unable to hold in his laugh when you rock on your tiptoes and hold your hands behind your back, "what's with the sweatsuit?" 

"Your Name picked it out." 

"She did?" He's surprised, as you expected. 

"Yep!" You turn back to the stairs and call for the last member of your group. "Come on, we're gonna be late!" 

All eyes are on Your Name as she appears in a matching pink set of sweats and classic black ugg boots. Her usually perfect hair is half up, half down in a braided bun, and this moment officially marks the first time a boy has ever seen her without makeup. 

She shyly begins her descent, immediately reaching for your hand when she joins the group. 

"Hi, Jimin," she swallows nervously. 

"Your Name," he smiles, offering her his hand instead, "you look pretty in pink." 

Her hand slips out of yours and into his, the lovely way his fingers fold between hers, the physical comfort leaking from his touch as it fills every crevice of her self-doubt. 

She's glowing. Not solely because of Jimin. But because she's finally starting to be a main character of her own story. You can see it in the way her smile stretches across her face. There's something different about this one, something much more real. 

You're smiling too, on the inside. But for some reason, you can't bring your lips to lift at all. All you can do is stare at their hands and feel your chest cave in on itself. 

The rest of the world blurs into a hazy background, a lonely melody hums in the distance. The only thing in focus…him. Him and his precious, strawberry cheeks. 

You should have expected this. After Your Name's comments left your thoughts in tune with your feelings for him, a slow-mo moment was inevitable. Still, it manages to catch you off guard because…he's not looking at you. 

He's looking at her. 

Unblinking, gentle eyes scan from head to toe in awe of what they see. His lips part when he talks like a magician using a spell to keep you mesmerized. The sound of your heart thuds in your ears, only getting louder and faster the longer you see him. But no matter how loud your heartbeat is, he doesn't hear it. Doesn't even acknowledge you while he's got her in his sights. 

"You look cute in blue." Jungkook is the one who breaks the slo-mo by offering you his arm, unashamed to have you on it now that he's done belly laughing at the initial shock of seeing you dressed so casually for his party. "Shall we?" 

The costume change worked in a way you didn't intend. It seems Jungkook didn't notice Your Name at all after he saw you. Even worse, Your Name couldn't care less about Jungkook right now either. 

Things keep getting more and more complicated. As you walk with Jungkook behind the other couple, you can examine Your Name when she looks at him, when she talks to him, when she watches him. And it's very clear. 

Not only does Jungkook not have a crush on Your Name, but now Your Name's attention has been swept away seemingly for good too. 

And you realize…Jimin is glowing like a main character. But when you look at Jungkook, his aura is as quiet as yours. 

Shit. This is not good.

::

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Part 2 coming soon!

In Real Life • pt1

-> Being transported into a fanfic is not exactly Jimin's ideal type of weekend, especially not right after you rejected his attempt to ask you out. Now the two of you will have to help the author write a happy ending if you ever wanna make it back to real life. Can he write a happy ending with you too?

Main pairing: gamer boy!jimin x fem!creative writing major!reader

Genre/au: trapped in a fanfic!au, enemies to friends to lovers, low-key love triangle, sports!au (archery), college!au, a good amount of fluff, a poor attempt at humor, some angst, inspired by Teen Beach Movie and Extraordinary You

Warnings: breaking the fourth wall sorta / pov changes, embarrassing moments, Jimin being a sweetheart bc I can't write him any other way, themes of depression and anxiety, more warnings to be added to part 2.

Wc: 14.1K

Disclaimer: this is not meant to represent all fanfiction and I'm not implying that all fanfic writers or readers only engage in fanfiction to escape reality. it's just for the sake of the story.

💿 the author - Luz :: more of you - JP Saxe :: main character - Zach Hood

a/n: yes, I had to split this into two parts because I planned it to be 15K but it's turning out longer than that sooooo yeah, hope ya'll enjoy the first part and if you do/don't want to be tagged for part 2 just let me know :)

"You're still here." 

"I'm still here." 

Jungkook doesn't know what to say. He's been a jerk. A complete bonehead, oblivious to what's been right in front of him this entire time. 

"I thought you would have left already," he says with downcast eyes. 

The implication is that you should have left by now. There's no reason for you to wait around for this jackass. He's been nothing but cruel to you, doing the things he did, saying the things he said. 

"I should have left," you admit, shamelessly standing before him still, "but there's something I have to say." 

Jungkook leans away, listening with intent but also nervous for what you'll say. Surely, you're going to scold him for his actions, tell him off, curse him. It would be an appropriate response given what he did. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this any–" 

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand, your eyes following it helplessly over your head to the bleacher behind you. 

"Hey! My phone!" 

Park Jimin. Teaser extraordinaire and the only student you know who got a legit scholarship to a legit university for gaming. That's right, this geek got into university by playing video games. A fact that has continued to irk you considering you worked your ass off to graduate high school early and still only got into your third university of choice after being rejected twice. 

"Whoa, what is this?" he snickers at the screen, giggling among his so-called friends that always follows him around as he reads your precious fiction embarrassingly loudly. "He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to–" 

You swipe your phone back, slapping his hand in the process. "Don't steal people's stuff!" 

"Was that fanfiction? Oh my god, you actually read that shit?" he belly laughs, almost falling off the back of the bleachers but his groupies catch him just in time. 

Too bad. 

You shut off the screen with the app still on and stuff your phone in your jean pocket, turning to the front with crossed arms and a pout. 

"Mind your own business, Park." 

"Do you like it when guys randomly grab you and kiss you?" 

"No," you flick your hair back, "but even if I did, like I said, mind your own business." 

"Aw come on, it's just a joke. Lighten up, it's the first game of the season." 

No, he just enjoys teasing you for your reactions. You try not to let him bother you because to be honest he isn't worth your time, but he has this way of getting you so riled up that you have to react. Stealing your phone, eavesdropping on your conversations, sliding into your DMs and spamming you with that one fancy duck meme that you told him makes you uncomfortable but he keeps sending it anyway. 

You tried to ignore him but he's attached himself to you for god knows why. His purpose in life must be to make you miserable. 

Your school's basketball team made another score on the court and the crowd started cheering, a good enough opportunity as any to slip away. Just goes to show what trying to be social and involved in school spirit will get you. Teased and irritated. You should have stayed in your dorm and worked on your creative writing final like you originally planned. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Jimin calls after you, leaning to see around his friends, but you don't reply. 

You duck and weave through the aisles of the bleachers. The stadium is packed as mess so it's impossible not to bump into people, unfortunately. 

Someone grabs your wrist just as you manage to slip past the bleachers and into the concession stands area, making you turn around in surprise. 

"You're leaving already?" Jimin asks. 

"Yes, I'm leaving. Let go, please." 

He drops your limb. "But it's only half time." 

"I've got an assignment anyway." 

"Do it later. Come watch the rest of the game with me." 

"Honestly, I don't want to sit with you, Jimin." 

"Whoa," he puts his hands up in surrender, "did I do something?" 

You scoff, "Is it really that shocking to think I don't want to sit with you? We don't even know each other that well." 

"Then let's get to know each other. Go on a date with me." 

You're too shocked to speak. It's a prank. He can't be serious about this. Jimin found out you like fanfiction and now he's trying to make your heart race by sticking his hands in his pockets and half smirking like he's charming or something. 

You cross your arms. "Why should I?" 

"Because I like you." 

"No, thanks." 

His smirk turns downward, shoulders slumping. "Why not?" 

"I don't like you like that," you explain as kindly as you can. You are being kind because you could say you don't like him at all and it would be closer to the truth. 

"That's the point of dating," he says with a confident tilt of his head. "You may like me once you get to know me." 

"I don't want to date the guy who steals my phone and teases me about my hobbies." 

"Okay okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stolen your phone," he says with a genuine nod, "but fanfiction, really? That stuff is for loners and hopeless romantic fangirls." 

"I'm guessing you wouldn't want to date a loner or a hopeless romantic fangirl, huh?" 

"Well no, who would?" 

"Then you don't want to date me." 

The crowd behind you start to bustle, pouring into the open space of vendors and snack bars and bathrooms, crowding your shoulders and walking through the space between you and Jimin. 

The conversation was over anyway, so you give one last wave and start to walk away. 

The crowd is thick and difficult to maneuver. It doesn't help that you're not nearly as tall as half the male fans here. Basketball is a tall sport so you should have expected this, but you press on, trying to slip through holes and low tunnels in the crowd to evade any further conversation with your nemesis. 

Jimin's calling fades into the background. You turn to see if he's still following but he's not around, probably went back to his seat seeing as you made your rejection clear as day already. 

It blows your mind because this stuff only happens in kindergarten. Teasing you because he likes you? It didn't even cross your mind. No college-aged graphic design major is that emotionally immature, right? If he really likes you he should treat you with respect like a gentleman from one of Jane Austen's novels. 

You squeal when a large shoulder hits you square in the chest, complete disregard for the person they just ran into. 

Falling back, you brace yourself for a harsh landing when a pair of arms catches you at the last moment, twisting you around and pulling you into a steady embrace. 

"You okay?" 

You peer up to find Jimin holding you securely against his chest. 

So he was still following you. 

"Yeah," you reply, pulling your legs back underneath you again, but he keeps his arms around you. "Thanks." 

"People never pay attention at these things. Let me walk you out–" 

He's interrupted when another rough nudge to his back sends him jerking forward, feet shuffling to keep from falling on top of you, his lips lightly brushing your nose. 

That was close. 

You scrunch your nose instinctively, making yourself smaller within his arms when they naturally squeeze around you. 

"...sorry," he mutters with a light blush on his cheeks, watching your cute expression with concern. 

You push away from his chest, too embarrassed that your heart is actually racing to say anything else. Looking down, you trudge through the rest of the crowd and make a bee-line for the exit. 

Good god, you have to get out of here. 

It's so much easier to breathe once you're outside. Puffs of warmth escape your lips when your head falls back with a large sigh. Finally some coolness on your cheeks. 

Muffled squeaks of sneakers on the court and groans from the audience are all you need to know the game has resumed. Jimin must have gone back then. There's no way he followed you all the way out here after all that. 

"___! Wait up!" 

"You have got to be kidding me," you whisper to yourself in disbelief. 

This dude cannot take a hint. 

"I'm sorry for…back there," he says shyly when he's come up behind you. At least he's apologizing on his own accord this time. "I got bumped. It was a mistake, I swear." 

You turn to give him a small nod, arms wrapped around yourself. "It's fine." 

"Are you cold? You should've brought a jacket." 

"Yeah, I didn't because I didn't know it would be this cold." 

"Here, you can have mine." 

"No!" You quickly stop him with a hand held up when he starts to strip his outer layer. "I don't want your jacket, Jimin." 

"But–" 

"I'm not trying to encourage anything, okay?" you interrupt him. "Please, don't give me your jacket." 

He slowly pulls it back over his shoulders with a frown. Your hand lowers and you tuck it back into your crossed arms, a slight shiver running through your shoulders.  

"At least let me walk you to your dorm. It's dark." 

"I'll be fine. Goodnight, Jimin." 

He doesn't respond but you can feel his eyes on the back of your head as you walk away. 

Okay, maybe you feel kinda bad turning down his jacket since you are freezing and he could have just been trying to be considerate. But with the knowledge of his crush on you, you just couldn't accept it with a clear conscience. Especially not right after turning him down so blatantly. 

That's right, this is the jerk who's been teasing you relentlessly since you met last semester. Now you know it was all because he likes you. Childish. This isn't kindergarten. 

So what, you like fanfiction? Lots of people do. It's an escape from the disappointment of reality, and everyone needs some of that at some point. Hell, Jimin plays video games for hours a day! Sure, some of it is for his major but he's probably also trying to escape reality part of the time, and you don't blame him. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket and open up the tab for your fanfic, finding the spot where you left off. A little escape from reality is exactly what you need right about now actually. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this anymore. I'm tired, okay? Tired of trying and never getting anywhere, tired of my feelings not being reciprocated. So, I'm done. I'm done with you–" 

He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to explode. 

His lips are perfect against yours, like pillows of sweetness. But they're nothing compared to his potent tongue, slipping between your lips and drawing a soft moan from your throat. 

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing…

You shake your head when the image of Jimin catching you pops into your imagination. 

…squeezing you so close you can feel his heartbeat through his white t-shirt. 

Jungkook's hands follow the curve of your waist, allowing the kiss to keep pace for a moment, enjoying your taste, the warmth of your tongue and the coolness of your lips. 

He pulls away from the kiss and takes a deep breath. His fingers gently brush your hair from your face, forehead leaning against yours lovingly as he gazes into your eyes. It feels like a scene from a movie. 

He smiles that wickedly beautiful smile and whispers soft and low…

"Watch out!!" 

Your arm is grabbed right when you lift your eyes from your phone, the blinding headlights of a car coming right at you. 

There's not even enough time to gasp. 

All you recognize is the pull of your body being jerked back, a stinging pain shooting up your arm and into your shoulder, the twist of your ankle as it trips over the curbside. 

Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear you catch a glimpse of Jimin's face before you crash onto the sidewalk, your side landing on his arm, and your head painfully slamming into the ground. 

:: 

His head is pounding when he comes to, rivers of red behind his eyes like poison. Even after he tries to blink them away, they persist for a moment. 

"What the fuck…" Jimin groans, reaching up to rub his head. 

Shit, that really hurt. 

Just as he starts to make sense of where he is in space, a body next to him starts to stir as well. 

Slowly, you shift where you lay on his arm, rubbing your head where you must have hit it on the sidewalk too. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, still blinking to bring his world into focus. 

Even if you're not, maybe you needed a good knock on the head. You were about to walk out in front of a fucking car because you were too lost in whatever fanfic you were reading. Idiot. 

You sit up, a hand on the side of your neck as you twist to help with the stiffness. Your neck pops and that helps a lot. 

"I think so." Your eyes land on Jimin and his position on the ground. "Did you…thank you." 

"Don't mention it," he sighs and sits up next to you, "just look where you're going from now on." 

"Right. I will." 

"Sure your head is okay?" 

"It's pounding a little," you confess. 

"Mine too," Jimin replies, pulling your ripped sweater back over your shoulder. 

And then the most extraordinary, unexpected thing happens. 

The moment is suddenly in slow-mo. The action of his hand brushing your skin when he moves your sleeve, the way his eyelashes softly flutter when he looks at you. The background blurs into a mass of nothingness, there's a soft hum of a melody coming from somewhere and fairy lights around his face like a filter. You're completely enraptured in the moment, physically unable to look away from his angelic form. 

When he's finished helping you cover your shoulder, the world returns to normal. 

Perhaps you hit your head a little harder than you thought. It's playing tricks on you now. 

"Hey, Jimin?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Wasn't it nighttime before?" 

Curiously, he takes a gander at your surroundings, and sure enough, the sun is high in the sky. That means the basketball game ended and everyone left the stadium, passed by you two lying unconscious on the sidewalk, and did nothing. The school will definitely be hearing about this. 

"It was also October," he comments. 

It feels rather warm for it being this far into Autumn. Not to mention the trees are beautifully green and flowering everywhere you look. It's not just a warm day in October. It's a different season. A hot season. 

He decides to shake it off and stand up, brushing off his clothes and ruffling his hair. 

You stand as well, a little unsteady on your feet. 

"You're not too dizzy to walk?" he checks just in case. 

"I think I'm good. Are you okay?" 

"Just a headache." 

Something is definitely odd but he can't quite put his finger on it. Something feels weirder than normal, like he's not seeing things right, like his peripheral vision has been tampered with. When he's focused on you, everything else fades into the background until he makes a point to look away from you again. 

He chalks it up to his head still spinning but he can't ignore the oddity of his environment right now. It still looks like his universe but something is…different. He can't seem to get out of tunnel vision mode. 

"Where are all the students?" you ask. 

Now is when he notices the lack of other people. The campus is completely abandoned save for the two of you and the occasional squirrel in a tree behind him. 

"In class?" 

"It is the middle of the day," you admit thoughtfully, but you don't seem convinced by his suggestion. From the expression on your face, Jimin gets the feeling you're sensing something isn't right either. 

You take a single step and your knees buckle beneath you, a light gasp alerting Jimin to your fall. 

His reaction is in slow-mo, arms scooping around your waist, supporting your sudden weight when you collapse into his embrace. Your hands land on his shoulders, your chest on his chest.  

The rest of the world blurs into a mesh of nothingness until all he can see is you slowly looking up at him, eyes sparkling abnormally bright and lips shimmering temptingly. Your eyelids flutter at him, silently speaking to him in soothing tones. His gaze drop to your lips, filled with an overwhelming urge to kiss you stupid. 

Just as the moment arrives, it disappears when you push yourself off his chest and stand up on your own again. 

"Sorry," you quickly apologize, "I don't know what that was. I just, umm, my legs gave out. Guess I'm dizzier than I thought." You shyly tuck your hair behind your ear and then look at your hand as if it betrayed you. 

"It's okay," Jimin assures you, just as confused. "But...did you happen to see that?" 

"See what?" 

"Nevermind." 

Even if you did see it, what reason does Jimin have to believe you would admit you also experienced whatever fanfic shit that just was. 

Wait. Oh hell no. It can't be. That stuff only happens in video games and movies.

"Hey, ___, when you accidentally walked in front of that car and I pulled you out of the way…you were reading fanfiction, weren't you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Are you seriously going to tease me right after a near death experience? That's low, man." 

"No, no, that's not what I meant," he says. "You're gonna think I'm insane, but…doesn't something feel off to you?" 

You swallow, clearly not about to suggest it yourself but you were thinking the same thing. Your expression shifts to realization mixed with horror, wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 

"What is it?" Jimin urges. 

Without a second thought, you start searching all over the ground, the side of the curb and the grass on the edge of the trees, desperately looking for something. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My phone!" you insist frantically. "Help me find it!" 

Without arguing, Jimin kneels to the ground and starts searching as well. 

Thankfully, you find the device a moment later. The screen is cracked but otherwise it's not broken. It turns on just fine and you unlock it to reveal the screen you were reading right before Jimin pulled you out of the way of that car. 

"I knew it," Jimin clicks his tongue, "you were reading fanfiction and not paying attention. You could have gotten seriously hurt if I hadn't been there, you know." 

"Jimin…" you slowly turn the screen so he can see it clearly. 

"What, I don't get–" he freezes, absolutely horrified. "Is it…how is it…doing that?" 

"I don't know," you reply, releasing a shaky breath as you watch your words appear in quotations on the screen. "Is it commenting on us?" 

You wave your arm in random directions as if that's the best way to test whether or not I actually know what you're doing right now. You look stupid by the way. You should probably stop. 

"Oh fuck, no way," Jimin refuses with a shake of his head, watching each letter appear on the screen in perfect time as it leaves his lips. "Whatever sick trick this is, I'm not a part of it. Make it stop, ___." 

"I'm not doing it!" you insist, unaware that you are in a way, because these are your words being typed right now. 

"No, I'm not!" you insist once again. "Whoever is doing that, we're not in your story so cut it out!" 

Oh, but this isn't my story anymore. It's yours. 

"What?" 

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you better leave us alone right now!" Jimin yells at me. 

But here's the thing, I started this fanfic with the intention of two lovers having a happily ever after and my pairing isn't working very well. So, I had to improvise. 

Welcome to the fic, you two. Let's write some fanfiction, shall we? There's a special pair of idiots who need your help to fall in love. 

"I don't understand…" you reply to me, slightly shaking where you stand. 

Jimin notices, but he's too nervous to reach out and take your hand. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's still hurt from your rejection because he genuinely likes you but sucks at showing his feelings since his mom walked out on him. 

"Hey, isn't that kind of personal?" Jimin spits back at me, just barely keeping himself from throwing the phone against a tree. 

But I actually do need your help. 

"For what?" 

To get this fanfic back on track. There are two characters I've written on this campus who are meant to end up together, but they're not exactly cooperating with me. I need you to find them and get them together to make the happy ending. 

"Why can you just write them together?" 

That's the thing, I lost control of the story. Whatever I end up writing always backfires. You might call it writer's block or poor motivation or just a lack of writing ability, but either way, I need some assistance to get this story back on track. 

If you two will agree to help me, I won't control your actions or dialogue, I promise. You can do and say whatever you want and all I'll do is record what happens. Help me write this story from the inside and I'll let you go afterwards. 

"And if we refuse?" Jimin crosses his arms, watching me type his actions out with a disdainful frown on his face. 

I've got a large following waiting for this fic to come out, so I really need to hurry up and get this done for them. It's for the fans. If you don't help, I can end this fic right now and you'll never escape an unfinished wip. 

"No, you can't," Jimin doesn't believe me. He thinks he's calling my bluff but inside he's nervous I'm telling the truth. 

"Am not!" 

Am too. 

"Am not! You're lying." 

Would you like to test that theory? 

Jimin doesn't actually want to test that theory. 

"Whatever," he grumbles. 

We don't get along apparently, which makes me sad. 

But while Jimin and I have our little squabble, you've been carefully considering my offer, haven't you? 

"Fine." 

"What!?" Jimin reacts in shock at what he just heard. "You're agreeing?" 

"If we do this, we get to go home. Whatever author this is clearly does not intend to let us go unless we agree to help." 

You're right, I don't. 

Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he has no choice but to agree. He's going to agree, so I don't know why he's being like this. 

"Yeah, yeah okay enough with the commentary," he sighs. "I'll do it." 

And from that moment on, the world became a little brighter, more in focus, and Jimin felt his point of view slowly returning to his mind. 

"Thanks." 

The internal control to move and breathe and speak becomes apparent in your bones as well, filling your lungs, and sparking the tip of your tongue. You look at Jimin with a worried but attempted brave expression. 

"Where should we even start?" 

In a flash, you and Jimin are standing in the cafeteria of the school. In front of you is a two person table but only one girl sitting alone with her textbook. She's brighter than the rest of the student body and wearing different clothes, which separates her as a main character. The main female lead. 

"Guess that answers that question." 

The rest is up to you. Please, make sure the story has a happy ending. I'm counting on you guys. 

:: 

"You go talk to her." 

"No, you go talk to her." 

"Give me one good reason why I should be the one to talk to her?" 

"Uh, because you're a girl," Jimin points out the obvious, gesturing to your curvaceous figure. "She's the female lead." 

"You're way better at making friends than I am," you argue. 

"Says who?" 

"You're the extrovert." 

Even just looking at her sitting alone intimidates you. Not that you're always introverted, of course, around your family and in familiar environments you're perfectly fine. But you've never been confident in taking the initiative when it comes to meeting new people, not like Jimin. 

He scoffs, "And? This is a fanfic, I don't know how things work in this world. Besides, you're one of her own kind." 

You hit his shoulder, but his tease did lighten the mood, so he calls it a success. The first time you've smiled since waking up with him on the sidewalk. 

"Come on, you're great at bumping into people," you jest, making reference to your interaction at the basketball game with a sly grin. 

"Ha ha, very funny." 

"You don't have to do much, just figure out where we are in the story. Once we know that, we can figure out what's next," you tell him, turning him to face her direction. 

Jimin eyes her from across the cafeteria, nervously biting his lip. Yeah, he's an extrovert but he's not the best at talking to girls. You of all people should know that; he spent months teasing you because he didn't know how to approach you like a normal human. When he first saw you, he thought you were just…too pretty for a casual introduction. 

Granted, this fanfic chick is significantly less attractive than you are. But that doesn't mean she's not a girl. 

"Oh, she's coming this way." You push on his shoulder blades as he leans back, digging his heels into the ground. "Don't lose this chance, Jimin! Do you wanna get out of here?" 

"Don't rush me!" 

With a final shove, Jimin trips forwards, nearly crashing into the girl as she walks by. He manages to catch himself but not before his stumbling lands him right in the pathway of… 

"Oh!" she exclaims, jumping at the surprise of an odd boy suddenly appearing in front of her.

Jimin freezes, eyes wide and staring directly into hers. He softly chuckles and straightens out his jacket. 

"Sorry. I tripped." 

"That's okay," she smiles innocently. "I trip all the time." 

He scratches the back of his head. "You ever fall when you trip?" 

"Huh?" She tilts her head, eyebrows lifted in confusion. 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Jimin by the way," he introduces himself with a handshake, hoping the conversation can start flowing naturally now that the expected awkwardness has hopefully passed. 

The girl accepts his hand, the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's nice to meet you, Jimin. Do you ever fall when you trip?" 

He blinks. "What?" 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Your Name by the way." The girl offers a handshake…again. 

He accepts it (again) with an unsure look, carefully noting how she just repeated him, like word for word. As if she couldn't come up with her own contributions to the conversation. 

"I'm sorry, your name is…?" 

"Me," she smiles innocently, one of the few actions Jimin realizes that she knows how to do. 

"You're…" 

"Your Name." 

"Right, what is it?" 

"My name is Your Name." 

"Your name is Jimin?" 

"No, it's Your Name." 

"I don't get it." 

"You're so funny," she giggles with a soft hand to her lips. 

He huffs, "No, I'm Jimin. Who the heck are you?" 

A harsh slap strikes across his back, echoing across the cafeteria but none of the surrounding students pay it any mind. 

"Ow!" Jimin yelps, retreating from your hand. "What the hell?" 

"It's nice to meet you, Your Name," you say sweetly as if you didn't just leave a nasty red handprint on his back. "I love your top." 

"Oh, thanks! I love your top too." 

"Yep." With a sigh and a nod, you face Jimin and speak directly to him, arms crossed and hip popped out in disappointment. "The author led us to the right girl. She's the reader insert, alright." 

Your Name occupies herself, amazed by her own hands and interlocking her fingers with a wishful sigh. She's been written to fall in love with the man of her dreams, to discover angsty heartbreak and become the apple of her lover's eye. When she's not doing anything directly related to that purpose, she's just an empty shell of a character, a copycat filling space and time until her next scene. 

"She's dumb as a sack of rocks." 

"No one is reading the story right now, remember? The author is still writing it. Your Name is an empty character," you explain, scanning her perfect figure up and down with a jealous click of your tongue. 

"So, if someone reads the story…" 

"Then part of that person's character is reflected in Your Name. It's what makes fanfiction fun to read. You get to put yourself in the story." 

Okay, maybe Jimin sees the attractiveness in that. It's an escape just like video games, except more lame and pitiful. 

Your Name has yet to do or say anything else. She just sways with her hands folded against her chest, mind empty, no thoughts, unable to leave or initiate anything without the author's guidance or some other trigger. 

"Why would anyone want to be her?" 

The doors to the cafeteria burst open, immediately stealing everyone's attention. The whole building pauses in place, heads turning in slow-mo to see what the big commotion is about, choirs of gasps and the sound of panties dropping to the ground left and right. 

In walks sex on legs, dark hair fluffy with a gloved hand brushing through thick bangs, skin tight jeans and a leather bracer around his wrist. He pretends to pull an arrow from the empty quiver on his hip, shooting it and a charming wink in the direction of a cafeteria worker, chuckling when they faint against the wall with a hand over their heart. 

There's only one person who could have that kind of effect simply by walking into the room. 

"That's why," you reply, hypnotized eyes following his every move through the line to get lunch. "The main male lead." 

"So, it's all about the guy, huh?" 

"Obviously. It is a Jungkook fanfic, so yeah."

Jimin gawks. "Wait, that's supposed to be Jeon Jungkook? You mean the singer slash actor in real life?" 

"Yep," you sigh in content. Even if this is a fanfic, you're in the same room as the Jungkook and you'll never forget this day. 

"That dude doesn't know archery," Jimin pouts. 

"It's a fanfic, so he does in this story, okay? Shut up." 

Jimin just rolls his eyes, too proud to admit the way you're staring at that fanfic character makes his blood boil something awful. But you're not the only one entranced. 

Your Name hasn't been able to blink since Jungkook walked in, hands folded shyly at her chest and lips slightly parted. She holds her breath as he struts in her direction, whipping his hair out of his eyes only for it to gracefully fall over his forehead again. 

Jungkook passes by with his lunch, but he doesn't even give Your Name a glance, not even the barest of recognitions. She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Just a defeated sigh when Jungkook sits down at a table with a bunch of other students and not her. 

She pulls her bag further up her shoulder, putting her head down and walking out of the cafeteria as unnoticeably as possible. Jimin watches her, a surprising sense of sympathy for her despite reminding himself she's a fictional character. 

You lift a finger to your temple, leaning into Jimin's side as you both watch the scene play out. "I understand." 

"What? What just happened?" 

"We have to get Jungkook together with Your Name. She's the shy, unnoticed school girl and he's the popular, sporty hunk with a heart of gold." 

"Oh come on, that's the worst trope ever." He rolls his eyes in Jungkook's direction. "Heart of gold my ass. He just walked right passed Your Name and didn't even flinch." 

"Like you would know anything about fanfic tropes." 

"Video games have tropes too, you know." 

You roll your lips tight when he sticks his tongue out at you, trying not to smile at how cute he was just now. 

"Like what?" 

Jimin begins counting on his fingers. "I could name five off the top of my head." 

"Are any of them the shy school girl and popular sports star?" you ask. 

He drops his hand and expression. "No." 

"Then you can reference video games again when they can actually help us," you say, looking back at Jungkook's table. "For how, we need to figure out a way to get those two together so we can end the fic and get out of here. Any ideas?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I don't know. I'm hungry." 

You're deep in thought, unconcerned with Jimin's empty stomach. He starts rubbing it over his shirt, whining your name and poking your arm over and over. 

"Let's eat something, please." 

"We don't have meal swipes for this place," you reply shortly, shooing his hand away without ever once losing focus on Jungkook. 

Do fanfic characters usually use meal swipes? There's no hurt in trying. The author probably had way better things to write about than whether or not the characters used their meal swipes or paid cash for their lunch. 

Besides, this is the spitting image of your real life cafeteria back on campus. If this school is based on that school, then maybe his meal swipes can work. (Does that mean the author goes to your and Jimin's university? Whoa.) 

You're not going anywhere. Might as well try. 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin uses a meal swipe to get a tray and two plates for a much needed meal break. So, he makes his way around the different stations of the cafeteria and collects a little bit of everything onto a tray, stacking piles of dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese especially tall. 

After tucking two canned sodas under his arm, Jimin finds you right where he left you. Standing in the middle of the floor, eyes glued to the archery star, and biting your nail into a numb. 

"Hey. You should eat something." 

You look to find the tray of food he's gathered, impressed but mostly grateful. 

"You're probably right," you finally admit when your stomach unmistakably starts gurgling. "Food is important." 

"Come on, we can think of a plan while we eat." 

The two of you make your way to a free table within eye shot of Jungkook's table and slip into opposite booths. Jimin pops open your soda for you, a small smirk on his lips when you gasp at the meal in front of you. 

"Dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese? Oh fuck yes, my favorite nostalgic meal ever! How did you know?" 

"It's mine too." 

:: 

After a lengthy discussion at the cafeteria, you and Jimin decide to map out what you already know and what you need to know on the way to an upcoming archery tournament. 

Seeing as Jungkook didn't pay Your Name any mind in the cafeteria, but he also didn't display any tension to suggest a break up or fight, it's safe to assume they haven't met yet. Which means you're at the start of the fic, the very very beginning. Depending on the author, this could be a 5K marathon or a 25K marathon. 

As the author, I'll give you a hint: it's longer than 5K. 

You stuff your phone back into your jean pocket after reading the update, feeling tired just thinking about the work ahead of you. 

"Author said it's a lengthy fic. Which means we've got multiple scenes to get through. We could be here for a while." 

Jimin swings his arms as he walks beside you, keeping to the outside of the sidewalk so he's closer to the road. 

"Shit." 

"Yeah," you sigh, fanning yourself. 

"Are you warm?" 

"Are you not?" you ask in shock, upgrading to two-handed fanning. "It's a million degrees out here. How are you still wearing that jacket?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I'm fine." 

The sun beats down on your sweater harshly, punishing you for still having it on. Soon enough, you can't bear it anymore. Your arms cross in front of you, fingers pinching the hem of your top and pulling it over your head to reveal a white tank underneath. Instant relief hits your skin. 

You tie the sleeves of your sweater around your waist and tie up your hair so it's off your neck. 

"Much better," you sigh to yourself. Now maybe you can actually think without getting heat stroke. 

"So–" Jimin clears his throat, eyes forward and nowhere else. "So you've read this story before, right?" 

"I've read stories similar to it, so it should be pretty simple to figure out. The archery tournament should be a good place to start. Sport events are usually where major plot development happens." 

"I sure hope you're right." 

Of course, you're right. Jungkook is the archery champion and Your Name is bound to be around here somewhere. After all, who would give up the chance to watch their crush excel at what they do best? 

No doubt, this scene will be an important milestone in their relationship. You just have to remember your role as wing woman and make sure Jungkook notices Your Name this time around. 

The field is decorated with targets and large, fake deer in the distance. All the archers are dressed in their gear, looking fine as heck you must admit. Never thought archery would do it for you but the strap across the chest and holster around the waist accentuates more curves than you were ready for. Damn. 

"There." You direct Jimin's attention with the point of your finger at the provided refreshments. "Your Name is by the water dispenser." 

You call out to her as you approach, ducking to avoid the many eyes of the bleachers because good god there's a lot of students here. The crowd makes you feel rather uneasy, but you push your introverted tendencies to the side and focus on the task at hand. 

"Oh, hi ___. Hi, Jimin," she greets you happily. 

Jimin nods at her, but his focus is on getting a cup of water. 

"Are you excited for the archers? Who do you think is gonna win?" you ask with a friendly touch to her arm, trying to be social. 

"Of course!" she answers with an innocent smile. "Jungkook will win for sure." 

"Have you cheered him on yet?" Jimin asks Your Name while handing you the cup of water. You gratefully down it. So, he gets you another one. 

"Everyone is cheering for Jungkook." 

"But did you tell him personally that you're cheering for him?" 

Your Name's smile fades a little, pulling back into a shy expression as she tucks her hair behind her ear. 

"No." 

"You totally should," Jimin says while you gulp down the second cup of water he filled for you. "He'd appreciate the support." 

"You think?" 

"Trust me, I'm a guy. If a cute girl like you wished me good luck on my tournament, hell I'd wanna win just for you." 

Her cheeks instantly flush, eyelids fluttering as her body turns to face Jimin fully, the dim around her light starting to shine brighter. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

Your Name rolls her lips, running fingers through the tips of her hair. "Do you have a tournament coming up? I'd love to cheer for you, Jimin." 

"Me?" He blinks. "Uhh, no. I'm not really into sports." 

"What are you into?" 

"Gaming," he says slowly. 

"That's so cool!" 

"Umm…" 

Jimin shares a look with you out of the side of his eye, unsure how the focus shifted to his interests. You interrupt with a hand on her shoulder, low-key turning her to face Jungkook's direction again. 

"Jungkook is into archery. Isn't that cool?" 

Your Name's neck stays turned toward Jimin until you place two palms on your cheeks and make her look in the direction of the archery team. 

She scans Jungkook head to toe. The archer tightens his quiver, adjusting it on his hip before bending over to tie his shoe. Never thought you'd be jealous of a man's ass but goddamn, the author blessed him with zero regard for their weak audience. 

"Wish him good luck like this, watch me–" You hold up two fists and smile as big as you possibly can, making your voice higher pitched and turning your knees in for a cuter effect. "You can do it, Oppa! Fighting!" 

Jimin nearly does a spit take. You're fucking adorable. 

Your Name seems unsure though. "You really think he'll notice me if I do that?" 

"I'm sure he will. Now go get 'em!" You give her a little booty pat to send her on her way. 

She timidly makes her way over to Jungkook while you and Jimin observe. This will work. This has to work. Jungkook doesn't have to fall in love with her right now, you remind yourself. All this has to do is get him to notice her, put her in his radar. This is the meet cute, the part where he realizes she's on his side. He finds a companion in someone he never expected, a shy bookworm he's never noticed is his biggest fan. 

Jimin leans into your ear and whispers, "Call me Oppa. Just once." 

"Not even in your dreams." 

"Damn it. Worth a try." 

While Your Name doesn't knock his socks off like you hoped, at least Jungkook recognized her efforts and thanked her for the cheer. They don't immediately hit it off and he doesn't look for her in the crowd during the tournament, but that's okay. He knows she exists now, so essentially this scene completed its purpose. 

It's almost halfway through the tournament and nothing else has happened. Your Name sat down in the bleachers looking somewhat lost as to where to go since you claimed her spot by the water dispenser. 

"Don't worry," Jimin says, watching Jungkook shoot his third bullseye in a row, "it's not a 5K fic, remember? Something new will happen any second. The plot has to progress somehow." 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin is right. 

From seemingly nowhere, an arrow comes shooting right at you. Instinctively, you squat to the ground at the sound of the arrow whistling past you, piercing and shattering the water dispenser beside you. In slow-mo, of course.  

A small wave of water spills out, soaking through your tank and all down your back. 

All you can do is squat there for a moment, taking in what the actual hell just happened. The slow-mo effect dissipates but the entire field has gone quiet, including the idiot who just shot that arrow. 

Jimin kneels in front of you. "Oh my god! Are you okay? That arrow didn't hit you, did it?" 

You shake your head, staring at the ground in silent shock, panic rising in your chest. 

"Thank god," he hangs his head in utter relief and sighs, "that was way too close." 

You agree, trying to catch your breath when he offers you a hand to help you stand. 

The moment you're back on your feet, your whole fanfic world freezes. Even Jimin's eyes have gone wide and his tongue gets tied. 

You immediately cross your arms over your chest, curling in on yourself and trying to cover your soaked through white tank top that's sticking to you like a wetsuit, totally and completely see through. Your brightly colored bra does little to help the situation. 

Jimin doesn't hesitate for a single second. He strips his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, zipping it to your chin. When you don't move, he pulls you into his chest for some extra coverage and comfort. 

You're not sure what to do, so your face ends up hiding in his chest, eyes squeezed shut, wishing you could disappear in his arms. 

"Come on," he whispers, ushering you off the field, one of his arms wrapped around you protectively while the other hovers over your face so you don't see the eyes of the crowd watching you exit. 

Consequently, you don't see Jungkook's curious eyes following you either. 

Jimin sits you down on a bench a little ways around the corner where there are no spectators. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, kneeling in front of you, hand resting on the bench beside your thigh. 

Your stale expression doesn't shift but your eyes start to fill with tears, the white of your pupils turning pink and your eyelids fluttering at the sting. 

Jimin feels his heart drop at the same time your first tear does. The first time he's ever seen you cry. 

"Everyone was staring at me. They wouldn't stop staring…" 

For the first time, Jimin is witnessing how much your introverted personality affects you. Being embarrassed is a common human experience, but it's so much worse for you. Those kinds of things are only magnified by a thousand due to your already anxious state in large crowds. 

Your body closes up, limbs curling in on themselves even further inside Jimin's jacket.

"They all saw, didn't they?" 

"No," he says immediately, causing your eyes to lift hopefully. "I was quick with the jacket, so I don't think anyone saw much of anything." 

You sniffle. "You're sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

You know he's being kind, trying to make you feel better. Usually when people say things for the sole purpose of making you feel better, it doesn't help much. But even though you know Jimin is lying, his little smile and confident nose scrunch are cute enough to make you relax somewhat. 

"Thanks," you shrug as a gesture to his jacket around your shoulders. 

He smiles at you and it makes things a little better somehow. The background blurs, allowing you to focus only on him, putting the rest of the situation into perspective and making things feel all a little less daunting. Life doesn't feel as serious when Jimin smiles, and that's a rare experience for you. Out here, away from all the people, you can regather yourself and process things clearly. 

You wanna touch him, just to be in physical contact with him again, but he stands up first, making your jerk your hand away from where it was reaching out inconspicuously. 

"I'll go get you a towel and see if I can steal a dry shirt from someone." 

"You're leaving?" The question popped out before you could stop it. 

He holds back a teasing smile. "Should I stay here?" 

"No, it's fine," you say quickly, turning your knees in. "Go get me a shirt. Hurry up." 

He just snickers, whispering "cute" under his breath before sticking his hands in his jean pockets and casually making his way back toward the archery field. If anything, Your Name will probably have an extra top you can borrow. It'll be small but it'll probably work in a pinch. 

Now that you think about it, you might be in this fic for a while. What about clothes, sleep and hygiene? Do you have a room in the dorms or will you and Jimin have to scrap on the side of the street for basic necessities? The author wouldn't leave you in that horrible situation, would they? 

"Hey, you." 

That's not Jimin's voice. 

You turn your head to see none other than the main male lead confidently coming over to your bench. 

"Just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," he says. 

You nod, trying not to be stunned speechless that your in real life celebrity crush is speaking to you as a fanfic character in an alternative universe. Holy shit! 

Jungkook smiles. "Thank goodness. I saw that arrow heading towards you and I think my heart stopped for a solid minute. You've got quick reflexes." 

"Thankfully," you exhale. "My life definitely flashed before my eyes though." 

"What did you see?" he casually asks, taking a seat beside you on the bench. 

You're suddenly very aware of how close he is, shoulder to shoulder. When he turns his head toward you, the little sparkles in his eyes become noticeable and you can make out a small freckle on the underside of the curve of his bottom lip. 

"I saw school. My family. My friends." 

"A boyfriend?" 

"No." 

"You're single?" 

You nod slowly. "Yes." 

Jungkook seems pleased to hear this. He adjusts in his seat, a confident smug on his lips and an indifferent shrug on his shoulders. 

"We should maybe go out sometime, if you're interested. You know, we could be…friends?" 

If you were feeling more confident or outgoing in this moment, you might call him out on the fact that he just confirmed you were single and then asked you out as a friend when you guys don't even know each other. He definitely thought he was smoother than he actually was just now. 

"Yeah sure," you reply, rather small and quiet. 

"Great," Jungkook hands you his phone. "Put in your number." 

With no reason not to in your mind, you do as he requests, adding a signature koala emoji at the end of your name. 

"Why a koala?" he asks amused. 

"They're cute."

"You're cuter." 

Damn, that response was fast. As if he had it right on the tip of his tongue, ready to go for anyone. 

Surprisingly, it doesn't make you nearly as fluttery as you expected. It was a good line, but the Flynn Rider smolder just isn't doing it for you right now.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear but it's not flattering and it doesn't make your heart flutter. There's no slow-mo and the world around you doesn't disappear. Actually, it feels kind of awkward and he doesn't put your hair in the right place so it just falls again. 

Jungkook stands, slipping his phone into his pocket now that he's got your info. 

"I'll text you," he promises before waving goodbye, his other hand scratching the back of his head bashfully as if he's not used to getting girl's numbers. He totally is though. 

Okay. Okay, don't freak out. This is a good thing. Now you've got a connection with both Your Name and Jungkook. This way will be easier to manipulate their relationship and eventually write a happy ending. That's the goal. In order to get out of here, you need a happy ending. That's what the author asked for. 

Jimin returns a few moments later with a dry shirt and a towel. You tell him what happened, and he doesn't seem very pleased that Jungkook has your phone number. Not that he's willing to tell you why that bothers him, but either way what's done is done. 

Now it's time for the next chapter. 

:: 

"Actually, I think we should chill for now." 

Jimin can't be serious, is he serious?  

"I mean, why not? It's almost night anyway. Look, the sun is setting and we haven't even had dinner yet." 

"Okay, so we go back to the cafeteria, get some dino nuggies, and then keep working," you reply. 

But your dear companion doesn't seem too thrilled with that plan. He shakes his head, face scrunched in displeasure. 

"Let's go out instead. I don't want dino nuggies." 

You gasp, hand over your heart. "Don't want dino nuggies? When does anyone not want dino nuggies? They are the only matter in existence not capable of disappointment." 

Jimin laughs with you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Why are you suddenly disappointed? 

"Yeah, okay. I still would rather go get pizza or something," he comments. 

"With pineapple?" 

"Ew, no I'm not a psychopath." 

"Well, I just figured since you don't want dino nuggies, there must be something wrong with you." 

Jimin rolls his eyes, not noticing the cute way you smile at him, genuinely enjoying your conversation. He's actually kinda fun to talk to. He's sweeter than you originally thought when all you knew about him was that he liked to tease you. There's something captivating about the shape of his mouth when he talks, the movement of his neck, the shifting of his eyes from you to the sunset. 

He leans back on his hands and looks out at the campus. The best place to get a bird's eye view is up here at the monogram. You can see the whole campus. Just as you expected, it's an exact replica of your campus back in real life. 

Somehow, you find yourself watching his profile instead, the lines of his jaw and the curve of his nose. He's got soft features and they match his personality really well, you think. He's handsome and he's not going to abandon you here. He proved that today. 

"Hey." 

Jimin turns his head to look at you. 

"I'm glad you're here with me." Your heart rate spikes as soon as you say those words, the realization that you just said them out loud hits you like a ton of bricks. "I mean, I'm not glad we're stuck in a fanfic, that sucks, but if I'm gonna be stuck in here, it would suck more to be alone because then, you know, it would be worse because I'd be alone, not without you specifically but just alone in general, ummm….I guess." 

He just waits patiently until you're done stuttering like an idiot, his smile slowly growing with each embarrassed syllable. His eyes are full of fondness but you don't notice them while you're too busy trying to calm the palpitations in your chest by picking at blades of grass. What's this nervous energy all of a sudden? 

"We can have pineapple on the pizza if you want," he says casually. 

"I don't like pineapple." You steal a glance at him only to do a double take when you find him grinning like an idiot. "What's that face for?" 

"Because I didn't know that about you. And now I do." 

You're not sure how to respond, so you just scoff under your breath, muttering to yourself and pulling your knees to your chest, suppressing the desire to ask him about his favorite dino nuggie shape. 

"Wanna bring the pizza back up here and eat?" 

"Yeah, that sounds nice." 

:: 

How you fell asleep outside, you'll never know. How you ended up cuddled beside Jimin is even more of a mystery. 

Beside is a weak term to use when your whole body is curled into his front, one leg slipped between his legs and your arms tucked between your chests. He's lazily wrapped around you, arm laid across your side and nose almost touching yours. 

When the chill of midnight wakes you up, you're sure it's a dream. His eyes happen to open at the same moment, a deep inhale through his nose as his world comes into view, as you come into view. 

"Hi," he grumbles, voice scratchy and low. 

"Am I dreaming about you now?" 

"You probably got cold." 

You look down, trying to move your leg but it doesn't want to pull away from the comfy spot it's found between his legs. When you look back up, he's watching you softly, half lidded eyes swollen from a rough few hours and the greasy pizza. 

"So, this is a dream." 

"Depends," his lips move through the dark, the feeling of his knuckle softly rubbing your cheek down to your chin and finally across your bottom lip, "if it is, are you gonna move?" 

"No." 

"Then this is a dream." 

"Good." 

:: 

"What if you pretend to be in love with Your Name?" 

Jimin doesn't seem too excited about that suggestion. He lifts one brow and sticks his hands in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder at where the female lead sits at the opposite side of the cafeteria. 

"But I don't like her," he says flatly, "plus she's a fanfic character. It doesn't make sense to ask her out." 

"It doesn't have to make sense. It's a fanfic," you argue, leaning your back against the wall. "Plus, she's cute, come on. We need her to trust us." 

Not as cute as you. And she's dumb. Jimin doesn't know if he could last a whole evening as her date let alone pretend to be attracted to her. She's not his type anyway. 

"Statistically, dating someone based on physical attraction alone only works like two percent of the time," he assures you, sticking out his tongue at the sour taste of just the idea. 

"Well, just pretend this is one of the times when it does." 

"Sorry, I don't have enough experience points for that." 

You roll your eyes. "Ha ha, very funny. Just go ask her out. We don't have any other ideas than to make Jungkook jealous somehow, and me dating Jungkook won't work because Your Name is too timid to act on jealousy." 

Well, that does it. Now Jimin is determined to find a better solution. There's got to be a way to get those crazy kids together that doesn't involve you getting with Jungkook or Jimin acting like he can last longer than ten minutes with Your Name before wanting to suck his brain out through his ears. 

"Look, every story has an algorithm, right? We just have to find this storyline's algorithm and use it to make the ending get here faster so we can get the fuck out of here." 

"What do you mean?" you ask, not following along at all. But you're interested in where Jimin is going with this exactly. 

He glances across the room at Your Name, eyes bouncing between her seat on the far wall and Jungkook's table surrounded by fellow archers who think they're cool because they can shoot a tree from thirty yards. 

"Okay, hear me out," Jimin starts talking with his hands, which means he wants you to really listen, so you do, "you know how in video games–" 

"No." 

He rolls his eyes but there's no mistaking that tiny smile hidden in the corner of his lips. "Well in video games there's something called an algorithm." 

"This is fanfiction, Jimin, algorithms are a math thing." 

"They're also a story thing. The algorithm is the step by step process of what eventually gets you to the ending. It's what draws you in, makes it attractive. Sorta like the formula to the story. Predictability." 

"Okay," you reply slowly. "I think I understand." 

"So, what's the algorithm of this fanfic? What's the thing that makes the story move forward to get to the ending?" 

You have to think for a moment, consider the characters and setting. What's the main premise that's going to eventually trigger the progression of the storyline? The glue between the romantic interests? 

"Opposites attract?" 

"Getting warmer." He taps his chin. "Anything else it could be?" 

"Sexual tension?" 

"That's it, you're a genius!" Jimin lights up. 

A sense of warmth fills your cheeks knowing you answered correctly, and you have to stop yourself from smiling like a middle schooler when Jimin praises you. 

He leans in closer, placing his hands on either side of you on the wall, encasing your smaller frame in his presence. 

"A build up of sexual tension between two unlikely characters," his eyes trace the lines of your nose to your lips, "that eventually erupts in a heated finale of confession and passion." 

You exhale, unaware you were even holding your breath, chest sinking and then filling up again with much needed oxygen. 

There's that infamous slow-mo, the one that keeps happening during the most inconvenient moments. You're still not sure if Jimin also experiences it - probably not - but it's doing things to you. 

His features become softer and rounder, the illusion of a blurry background causes your attention to be enraptured that much easier. His eyes gently blink and when they open, they've moved upward, now looking directly into yours. 

The moment is all too fleeting when his expression shifts into something horrified and he suddenly clears his throat and stands up straight again. 

You brush off your clothes, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible because whatever the heck that was has no impact on the goal at hand. No matter how unusually pretty his eyes are. 

"So," you pull your hair over your shoulder and then toss it back again, "we need to build sexual tension between Jungkook and Your Name." 

"Luckily, Your Name already thinks Jungkook is sexy. But how to make Jungkook notice her…" Jimin comments, a hand on his hip and the other scratching his head. 

And then an idea clicks in your mind. "A costume change." 

"Be serious." 

"I am serious. In fanfiction, when a character changes their outfit to something sexy or different from their usual vibe, it makes the other characters notice them. OC's do it all the time." 

Jimin guesses that could work. He tries to put it into perspective by imagining you wearing something you normally wouldn't. His gaming sweatshirt would be much too big for you considering it's big on him. The zipper is broken so it would probably fall off your one shoulder. His cat ear headset certainly would be a costume change, not to mention the sight of your beautiful legs in leggings, or even better, oversized pajama shorts and fluffy socks. He imagines how cute you'd be sitting in his lap and letting him teach you how to use the controller, whining when your character dies for the tenth time but then getting so happy when you win. 

Maybe you even twist around and hug his neck, maybe you're so happy you give him a kiss. Maybe the two of you get so caught up in the kiss that you forget the game and end up straddling his lap in his gamer chair. Maybe things get a little heated and he takes off your sweatshirt. You're nervous but he makes sure you're comfortable first and foremost because he just wants you to feel safe and loved because you deserve to be taken care of and kissed like that. You deserve so much. 

Yeah, a costume change could work. 

Jimin responds before his imagination can go further, "Okay, so how do we do that?" 

At that moment, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

[unknown] hey there cutie ;) it's JK ;) my team is throwing a party tonight to celebrate our win at the tournament ;) wanna swing by? ;) 

Putting aside the major turn off that Jungkook just asked you to a party without indicating that he will be taking any kind of responsibility for the fact that he invited you to a party, this is just what the doctor ordered. 

You show Jimin the screen. "Boom." 

"Why four winky faces? Wait a damn minute, is he asking you out on a date right now?" 

"Yep." 

"Didn't even offer to pick you up," he grumbles, "what a loser." 

"It's still a party." 

"I guess." 

"A sexy party," you clarify, "probably with alcohol. There'll be a bunch of NPC's and I'll make sure Your Name wears something that'll catch Jungkook's attention." 

As much as Jimin is dreading going to a major social event that's not a sports game or gaming tournament, he can't deny that this is probably going to be your greatest chance at making some progress in the story. 

He gives a little side eye, a smile in the corner of his lips as the two of you head to get food. "I didn't think you knew any video game lingo." 

You nudge his shoulder as you walk. "I know a little. I live in the 21st century after all." 

Jimin commits your giggle to his memory because, damn, it wasn't slow-mo but he felt his world light up because of it. 

You get two trays and casually make your way over to where Your Name is finishing up her lunch. 

"Hey, mind if we join you?" 

"Sure," she smiles innocently - is it just you or is it annoying how symmetrical and sweet her smile is? 

Jimin takes the seat between you both, instantly regretting the decision when Your Name scoots a little closer so their shoulders touch. He looks at you as if you're going to fix it, but you brush it off, starting to eat while moving the conversation along. 

"So, Your Name, did you get the invite to Jungkook's party?" 

"I heard about it–" wow news travels fast in fanfics, "--but I haven't gotten an invitation." 

"You're in luck! Jimin needs a plus one." 

"I do?" the unsuspecting victim asks in terror. 

Your Name instantly starts acting shy, leaning even closer to him but turning her face away and only glancing to feign vulnerability or whatever other reason girls do that shit. 

"You're going to the party, Jimin?" 

"Apparently." He glares at you. 

"I'd love to be your plus one. I don't typically go to parties, but it might be fun to go together." She bites her lip, catching Jimin's easily distracted attention. 

Wait a second, is he actually staring at her? 

"Really? You want to go with me?" 

"Yeah, I really do!" 

His expression softens. "No girl has ever wanted to go to a party with me. I'm kind of a geek." 

Your Name shakes her head with a gasp, placing a hand on his bicep with a subtle squeeze. "Oh no! You're not a geek at all! You're the coolest guy I know." 

You swear there are hearts in her eyes. Bitch. Can she back the fuck up? He's not a piece of meat. 

Jimin looks totally lost. Flustered and very lost. Clearly, he's never been in this situation before. He turns to you for guidance and you reach around him to peel her hand off his arm, starting to regret your plan of having them go together. 

"Sounds like you guys have a plan then." That came out a little more disappointed than you intended. 

"Yeah," Your Name agrees with a soft giggle. "Should I meet you there?" 

"I'll pick you up." Because that's what a gentleman does. 

"Kay." She sways back and forth for a moment just looking at him, eventually picking up her tray and gathering her bookbag. "See you later then, Jiminie." 

She practically skips away, her little skirt bouncing at her thighs. Jimin watches until she's out of the building, out of the scene, out of sight. And then he collapses in the booth with a tired sigh. 

"That was intense." 

"Jiminie?" you mock and cross your arms. "Where does she get off calling you Jiminie? You're not even dating, it's just a party." 

"If you're that jealous, you can call me Jiminie too." 

"I'm not jealous." Your reply is a little too fast, mumbling after, "...nothing to be jealous about." 

He wants to call you out but you're cute like this, and he doesn't want to stifle your jealousy just yet. So instead, he lets you grumble through the rest of your meal together, resting his cheek in his hand and chuckling to himself each time you roll your eyes or stuff your cheeks a bit too full to keep yourself from cursing out loud. 

:: 

Jimin doesn't own trendy clothes. Actually, in this universe, he doesn't own any extra clothes. Turns out when you get transported into a fanfic, your dorm room doesn't come with you. A dumb rule but whatever. 

Thankfully, Jungkook is kind enough to lend him some party wear at your request. Not that the archery star is obligated to share his exclusive wardrobe, but he wants to get on your good side, and Jimin is in desperate need of an upgrade. 

Jimin steps out of the closet and grimaces. "It's a little…tight." 

"That's the point." Jungkook whistles. "Girls like tight." 

"I like breathing." 

"You look hot." 

Despite his requests for something more comfortable, Jungkook is not the most accommodating character. His compliments help a little bit, but Jimin can't sit down without popping a button and that's an issue. 

After Jimin has been dressed comes the agonizing process of choosing what Jungkook will wear to his own party. He leans against the door frame while Jungkook pulls more shirts from the closet and tosses them on the bed one by one. 

"So," Jimin talks in the meantime, casually looking at his feet and the walls, "you sure you're cool coming with me to pick up Your Name?" 

"Yeah, of course, man," Jungkook says, trying on the first top and checking it out in the mirror. "___ will be there anyway, so I'll just pick her up at the same time." 

The fact that Jungkook was not going to pick you up without the convenience of Jimin's date is just outrageous. As if guys should need a reason to be gentlemen. But apparently Jungkook needs more than that. If you ask Jimin, he needs a reality check. How ironic. 

"Plus she's your girlfriend, so I don't mind," Jungkook adds. 

Jimin's eyes go wide. "Your Name? She's not my girlfriend," he quickly corrects. 

"She's not?" Jungkook seems shocked, but then shrugs it off. "Oh." 

"Oh?" 

"It's just…does she know that?" 

"What do you mean?" 

Jungkook sighs as if he's not supposed to be sharing this secret information. He slips a shirt over his head, taking his time in answering while Jimin's concern grows out of hand. 

"Your Name has been going around telling everyone that you asked her to the party, so people just kinda assumed you two are a thing." 

"I didn't – I mean, I guess I did sorta ask her but it was more of a convenience thing. I don't like her like that," Jimin says. 

"No worries, man, you don't have to explain anything to me." 

Surprised his answer was satisfactory, Jimin decides now may be an excellent time to lure the conversation in a different direction. He's not only here to get an outfit for the party, he's here on a mission. Step one to get Jungkook and Your Name together is to get Jungkook thinking about her. 

"So like, if someone else wanted to ask out Your Name, that'd be totally fine." 

"Cool." 

Jimin nonchalantly drags his toe across the ground, picking at his nails and shrugging as if his next comment isn't meant to be important. 

"Would you wanna ask her out?" 

"Me?" Jungkook chuckles to himself. "I mean, she's cute but I don't really know her that well. I'm glad you're the one bringing her actually." 

"Why?" 

"Your Name is friends with ___, right?" 

Uh oh. Jimin doesn't like where this is going if this is going where he thinks this is going. There was a sliver of hope left that Jungkook hadn't completely counted Your Name out of the game, but it looks like his worst fear is becoming more and more real. 

"I'd rather get to know ___ better to be honest. She's less, you know, ditsy." 

Well, Jimin can't argue with that statement. He keeps trying, he has to. Even if the hope of getting out of this story without any broken hearts is already long gone. 

"Your Name is cute though," he says in a positive tone. 

"Yeah, of course she is." Jungkook's head drops back and he smiles at the ceiling like an idiot. "But ___ is just…" 

Incredible? Enchanting? Hilarious? Genuine? Smart? Dedicated? Inspirational? 

"Hot." 

Jimin waits for him to say something else – something about your humor or sense of individuality or favorite shape of dino nuggies – but Jungkook doesn't mention any of Jimin's favorite things about you. 

"Just hot?" 

"What, you don't think so?" 

"Of course, I think she's attractive." 

"You'd have to be blind not to," Jungkook winks, gathering his shoes and spritzing some cologne into the air just to walk under it. "Besides, I'm supposed to be the hottest girl on campus." 

"Who said that?" 

Jungkook's attitude shifts for a moment, something somber that makes him appear more human than he has before. His usual main character glow dims and a filter flickers for just a moment, long enough for Jimin to glimpse something that was hidden before. 

"You know, just people. I mean, if I'm not supposed to get the girl, then what? What should I do?" 

It's a weird moment, one that Jimin isn't quite sure how to label. There's a dullness in Jungkook's eyes, behind which is a thought he'd never thought before. His eyes lower to the floor in a few blinks, the corners of his lips sinking too, and then it hits Jimin like a truck. 

Jungkook isn't happy. Not by a long shot. 

He shakes it off as soon as Jimin notices it and plasters his winning, stunning smile over whatever realism was showing. 

"How do I look?" 

Like the boy of every girl's dream. It hurts a little bit to look at Jungkook and know that's your type. Because Jimin will never be that guy. It's not his character, not his profile. He won't ever be a fanfic boy who wears designer clothes and always says the right thing and has perfect hair. He won't ever be good at archery or acting, or be able to make you swoon simply by walking across the room. 

You want a Jungkook guy, and that's not Jimin. 

"You look perfect." 

:: 

Your Name is so pretty, there's no question. The girl of every boy's dream. But her wardrobe is…well. Let's just say her style is a bit bright compared to your preferred color palette. 

"Come on!" she urges you, bouncing on her bed and clapping her dainty hands. "Let's see it!" 

This is so stupid. Clothes are not this important, so why you have to try on fifteen different outfits just to make a fanfic character happy doesn't sound logical. Then again, has anything in this world been logical so far? 

You shyly step out of the closet and into view, pulling down the material of your skirt to your mid-thigh. Layers of bracelets and patterned stockings flatter your body type while your halter top shows off round shoulders. 

"Wow," she says breathlessly, "you're beautiful." 

Okay maybe you feel a little pretty, but you didn't come here to get compliments. As long as she doesn't make you change again, perhaps you can actually make some progress on the story. 

"Make up time!" Your Name announces, patting the seat in front of her mirror for you to sit. 

"Oh, I don't need any, thanks." 

"Of course, you don't need any, but it's fun to wear it," she gives you a sassy shoulder and clicks her tongue, gesturing for you to sit anyway. 

Her smile says you don't have the choice. 

As she starts with some cleansing pads to make sure your skin is ready, you figure this is as good as any time to talk about what girls usually talk about during scenes like this. 

"So, boys," you start with an awkward chuckle, "they're cute." 

"Boys are the best!" 

"Especially Jungkook. He's super cute, right?" You open one eye while she does the shadow for the other. 

Her lips spread into a sly grin, pausing your makeup so she can gasp. "Do you like Jungkook?" 

"What? Me? No!" 

"You totally do! You have a crush on Jungkook, oh my god! That's so cute, ___, you guys are so cute together. I can totally see it!" 

"No! I don't have a crush on Jungkook, he's just a friend. I swear." You have to cut her off before she gets too excited about this completely wrong idea.

"Oh." She seems disappointed. "But isn't he taking you to the party?" 

"He's – well, yeah – but it's more of a convenience thing. I don't like him like that." 

"Then who's your crush?" 

"It's–" 

Whoa, were you about to say Jimin? You'd have to cut your tongue off if it did that. Unacceptable and unhelpful, why would he even be on your mind right now? This scene isn't about who you like anyway. 

"I don't have a crush." Playing it off with a vague statement is probably wise. 

Your Name pauses where she stands, a glitch-like twitch on her lips when she tries to respond. She starts to speak but backspaces over and over, like an unsure author rewriting a line again and again. 

"But…you're such girlfriend material," she finally gets a full sentence out. 

"Thanks, but that doesn't mean I have to crush on someone." 

She actually looks a little worried for you as well as confused. "Then what do you do all day?" 

"Go to school, play games, study, hang out with friends, write fanfi– uhh, write fantasy stories." That was a close one. "Just whatever makes me happy." 

"Oh." 

It's very faint, but you swear you see her eyes dull for a moment. Her main character gleam flickers out and what's left seems…real. Her shoulders slump into a lower position, the usual pep in her limbs drained while this seemingly brand new concept swims in her mind. 

She looks down at herself unimpressed, unsure. 

"Do you wanna change your clothes? They look uncomfortable," you ask slowly, not wanting to assume but also not trying to hinder whatever sudden character development may be happening. 

"Oh no! I wasn't…well, I'm supposed to…I dressed up for Jiminie," she tells you innocently, "but the skirt is kinda…short, I think." 

You take her hands and smile confidently. "Do you have an outfit you feel more comfortable in?" 

She nods. 

"Then you should wear that instead." 

"What if Jiminie doesn't like it?" she frowns. 

"So what? To hell with what Jimin thinks. To hell with what any boy thinks." You stand with half done makeup, Your Name's gaze following you in wonder and amazement. "Is it in your closet?" 

She tentatively follows behind, watching you search through the many dresses and skirts hanging prettily organized by color and style. 

"Which one is it?" you ask over your shoulder. 

Your Name shyly points to the very back of the closet, to a small dresser with a single drawer. You open it and immediately gasp. 

"Your Name, this is perfect!" 

"Really?" 

"Of course!" You pull out the clothes and hold them up to her frame, giggling at the sight of her lips slowly twisting into perhaps the first genuine smile you've witnessed from her. "It's your favorite outfit, right?" 

"Yeah," she shyly admits. "Because it's comfy." 

Then your eyes light up brighter than any main character, an aura of gentleness and genius emitting from your very body. 

"Do you have a second pair?" 

:: 

He's not sure why he's so nervous. It's not this is a legit date, plus he doesn't even like Your Name. 

Jungkook gives him a nudge. "Smile when she comes down the stairs. Girls like that."

The previous conversation lingers in Jimin's mind, different possible outcomes if he had said something else, if he had kept the convo focused on Your Name for a little while longer. Eventually, the boys got to talking about archery and Jungkook led the conversation from there with hardly enough time for Jimin to comment. 

For what it was all worth, Jimin didn't mind hearing about the different types of arrows and their tendencies when matched with a recurve bow versus a compound bow. Jungkook is clearly passionate about it, so he let the fanfic character rant. It's what friends do. 

"Are they almost done?" Jungkook checks his phone and chuckles. "Girls. They take forever to get all dolled up, huh? It's cute that ___ wants to look nice for me." 

Jimin starts to reply, but it's pointless when you arrive at the top of the stairs. 

"Hi, guys! Sorry for making you wait." 

With absolutely zero concern for your posture, you skip down the stairs, jumping off the last one and landing directly in front of Jungkook. 

"I'm ready!" 

He gawks at you, blinking and unable to utter a single word. You're wearing a blue sweatshirt with matching solid blue sweatpants. Your hair is tied into a messy bun, all makeup cleaned off, and ugg boots with bows on the back. The only accessory is a cute pair of casual studs in your ears that match your blue aesthetic. 

You give him a once-over and smile. "You look nice, Jungkook." 

"___," Jimin catches your attention while Jungkook glitches, unable to hold in his laugh when you rock on your tiptoes and hold your hands behind your back, "what's with the sweatsuit?" 

"Your Name picked it out." 

"She did?" He's surprised, as you expected. 

"Yep!" You turn back to the stairs and call for the last member of your group. "Come on, we're gonna be late!" 

All eyes are on Your Name as she appears in a matching pink set of sweats and classic black ugg boots. Her usually perfect hair is half up, half down in a braided bun, and this moment officially marks the first time a boy has ever seen her without makeup. 

She shyly begins her descent, immediately reaching for your hand when she joins the group. 

"Hi, Jimin," she swallows nervously. 

"Your Name," he smiles, offering her his hand instead, "you look pretty in pink." 

Her hand slips out of yours and into his, the lovely way his fingers fold between hers, the physical comfort leaking from his touch as it fills every crevice of her self-doubt. 

She's glowing. Not solely because of Jimin. But because she's finally starting to be a main character of her own story. You can see it in the way her smile stretches across her face. There's something different about this one, something much more real. 

You're smiling too, on the inside. But for some reason, you can't bring your lips to lift at all. All you can do is stare at their hands and feel your chest cave in on itself. 

The rest of the world blurs into a hazy background, a lonely melody hums in the distance. The only thing in focus…him. Him and his precious, strawberry cheeks. 

You should have expected this. After Your Name's comments left your thoughts in tune with your feelings for him, a slow-mo moment was inevitable. Still, it manages to catch you off guard because…he's not looking at you. 

He's looking at her. 

Unblinking, gentle eyes scan from head to toe in awe of what they see. His lips part when he talks like a magician using a spell to keep you mesmerized. The sound of your heart thuds in your ears, only getting louder and faster the longer you see him. But no matter how loud your heartbeat is, he doesn't hear it. Doesn't even acknowledge you while he's got her in his sights. 

"You look cute in blue." Jungkook is the one who breaks the slo-mo by offering you his arm, unashamed to have you on it now that he's done belly laughing at the initial shock of seeing you dressed so casually for his party. "Shall we?" 

The costume change worked in a way you didn't intend. It seems Jungkook didn't notice Your Name at all after he saw you. Even worse, Your Name couldn't care less about Jungkook right now either. 

Things keep getting more and more complicated. As you walk with Jungkook behind the other couple, you can examine Your Name when she looks at him, when she talks to him, when she watches him. And it's very clear. 

Not only does Jungkook not have a crush on Your Name, but now Your Name's attention has been swept away seemingly for good too. 

And you realize…Jimin is glowing like a main character. But when you look at Jungkook, his aura is as quiet as yours. 

Shit. This is not good.

::

perm taglist: @staerryminimini @unicornbabylover @kookieswan @sugarflywme @dvalitaes @kookiecrumb @jeonsjiddies @myooniverse @miscelunaaa @jinsquishes @azreeeeee @armys-dna @thesugatoyourtae @jmforevs @kimprosperi @jjkeverlast @joontied @pamzn @ssaboala @hobipost @jimilter @sleepilysworld @rjsmochii @familiarlikemymirror3 @gimmethatagustd @alluringfairies @minijagiya @roseyykris @jwnghyuns @kaitaesupremacy @squawkadoodledoo @jimin2014 @jminthinker @femmesstuff @valhallawhispers @bora-kat @bloodline1632 @lookhere-2seok @hoseokteardrop @minniesvenus @seokjinkismet @chimchimmarie @mywhispered-thoughts @pasttelrose @screamertannie @soeur-de-ame @dunixxd @taolucha

Part 2 coming soon!

SFW Authors List

《 Just a list where I gather all the sfw writers and works I fortunately stumble upon / A haven for sfw enthusiasts 》

S F W A U T H O R S

▪@agustdakasuga | Masterlist

▪@armys-dna | Masterlist

▪@btsstan12 | Masterlist

▪@crystaljins | Masterlist

▪@jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger | Masterlist

▪@jktones | Masterlist

▪@kookintel | Masterlist

▪@kookstempo | Masterlist

▪@koostarcandy | Masterlist

▪@silvermistcosmos | Masterlist

▪@softbobamilktae | Masterlist

S F W W O R K S

▪ What are you doing now?

(Written by @agustdakasuga)

Pairing: yoongi x reader

Genre: romance, angst

▪Aspirin

(Written by @magicshopaholic)

Pairing: namjoon x oc

Genre: fluff

▪Champagne problems

(Written by @soobhyun)

Pairing: hoseok x reader

Genre: angst

▪In time

(Written by @magicshopaholic)

Pairing: taehyung x oc

Genre: angst

Note 1: my intention is not to offend nor exclude writers that do write nsfw, because I am 100% sure there's lots and lots of very capable authors in that part of the fandom, but being ace and sex-repulsed, I really can't bring myself to read works containing smut scenes.

Note 2: if you are/know a sfw author that doesn't figure in the list or there's a sfw fic you want on here, please do let me know and I will add you/them immediately

♡ masterlist ♡

Networks: ksmutclub; btshoneyhive; btswritingcafe; bangtanbathouse || all writing tag || ao3

K I M   S E O K J I N

the entertainer: series (hiatus)

strangers to lovers; rich!Seokjin; fuckboy!Yoongi; pretty woman!AU; angst; smut ♪ soundtrack: last days of summer by summer walker 

Jin is a gorgeous, rich, and–taken man. but one look from you on that stage has him spellbound. he knows he’s got no business coming back to the club, but there’s something about you that makes him want more than just a private dance…

M I N   Y O O N G I

john hughes movie: drabble

college!AU; best friends!AU; angst, fluff if you squint; ♪ soundtrack: john hughes movie— maisie peters

when your love confession doesn’t go as planned, your best friend’s there to pick up the pieces.

like you a latte: oneshot

college!au; coffeeshop!au; fluff, angst if you squint; ♪ soundtrack: blind by role model

your friend brings you to a cafe to help you relax during midterm season, but you can’t help but focus on a certain blonde barista

stand by me: drabble

childhood friends!AU; bikergang!yoongi; fluff, angst if you squint; ♪ soundtrack: stand by me by bene e. king

yoongi becomes your knight in black leather.

J U N G   H O S EO K

wherever you are: oneshot

college!AU; fluff; angst; ♪ soundtrack: wherever you are by 5SOS

when you decided to study abroad last semester you planned on falling in love with an entire country–not a boy. but things rarely go according to plan…

K I M   N A M J O O N

promises: series ✓

pt1 pt2 pt3  pt4  pt5  finale

married!AU; idol!AU; fluff; angst; smut; ♪ soundtrack: lemondae by beyoncé

marriage life with Namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. he’s been cold  and distant, always whispering on the phone. and you can’t help but notice…

moonstruck: oneshot 

greekgod!AU; goodess!reader; mortal!namjoon; fluff; smut; ♪ soundtrack: orbit by nao

namjoon makes the moon his lover.

P A R K   J I M I N

again: oneshot

hanahaki!AU; best friend!AU; angst; ♪ soundtrack: again by kehlani

you come home from college & meet up with an old friend, only to discover you have feelings for them; or the one where you break Jimin’s heart.

K I M   T A E H Y U N G

between you & me: oneshot

idol!kim taehyung; non idol!reader; blind date!AU; strangers to lovers; fluff; smut; ♪ soundtrack: between you & me by betty who

testing out a new dating app leaves you with more than just a online connection.

J E O N    J E O N G G U K

space: oneshot

; boyfriend!AU; fluff; angst; ♪ soundtrack: nasa by ariana grande

all jeongguk wants is to spend the night by your side, but honeslty? you just need some space.

sweetener: drabble

established relationship; boyfriend! AU; smut; pwp; ♪ soundtrack: sweetener by ariana grande

jeongguk knows just what to do to make you feel better…

nasty: drabble

established relationship; boyfriend!AU; smut; pwp; ♪ soundtrack : nasty by ariana grande

i mean, it’s called nasty need i say more?

quit: drabble

exes to lovers; established relationship; fuckboy!jk; angst; smut; pwp ♪ soundtrack : quit by ariana grande

your ex to shows up at your apartment in the middle of the night.

you broke me first: drabble

exes to lovers; established relationship; fuckboy!jk; angst; smut; ♪ soundtrack: you broke me first by tate mcrae

jeongguk tries to win you back.

better off: drabble

fake dating; fwb; fuckboy!jeongguk; angst; smut; celebrity!au;18+; ♪ soundtrack: better off by ariana grande

things get messy after a one night stand with your labelmate.

first dance: drabble

strangers to lovers; wedding!au; best man!jeongguk; fluff ♪ soundtrack: put your head on my shoulder—paul anka

jeongguk teaches you how to slow dance.

heartbreak anniversary: drabble

flower shop!au; established relationship; unrequited love; breakups; angst, fluff if u squint ♪ soundtrack: heartbreak anniversary — giveon

a run in with your ex has you seeking out closure.

nervous: drabble

exes to lovers; established relationship; nonidol!au; college!au; whipped!jk; shy!reader; slight angst, fluff ♪ soundtrack: nervous—gavin james

jeongguk runs into his ex-girlfriend over the holidays.

© jeonsweetheart, 2022. please do not copy, claim as your own, or translate.  

In Real Life • teaser

-> Being transported into a fanfic is not exactly Jimin's ideal type of weekend, especially not right after you rejected his attempt to ask you out. Now the two of you will have to help the author write a happy ending if you ever wanna make it back to real life. Can he write a happy ending with you too?

Main pairing: gamer boy!jimin x fem!creative writing major!reader

Genre/au: trapped in a fanfic!au, enemies to friends to lovers, low-key love triangle, sports!au (archery), college!au, a good amount of fluff, a poor attempt at humor, some angst, inspired by Teen Beach Movie and Extraordinary You

Warnings: breaking the fourth wall sorta / pov changes, embarrassing moments, kissing, Jimin being a sweetheart bc I can't write him any other way. warnings to be added as I finish the fic.

Teaser wc: 851

Total wc: 15K+ (there is no release date at this time)

Disclaimer: this is not meant to represent all fanfiction and I'm not implying that all fanfic writers or readers only engage in fanfiction to escape reality. it's just for the sake of the story.

💿 the author - Luz :: more of you - JP Saxe :: main character - Zach Hood

a/n: I've wanted to do something like this for a while so I hope it works ☺️ just a heads up that the "author" is a character in the story. I hope it's not confusing lol. Feedback is appreciated!

If you'd like to be on the taglist, leave a comment, reblog, or dm. You're already tagged if you're on my perm taglist <3

"Yep." With a sigh and a nod, you face Jimin and speak directly to him, arms crossed and hip popped out in disappointment. "The author led us to the right girl. She's the reader insert, alright." 

Your Name occupies herself, amazed by her own hands and interlocking her fingers with a wishful sigh. She's been written to fall in love with the man of her dreams, to discover angsty heartbreak and become the apple of her lover's eye. When she's not doing anything directly related to that purpose, she's just an empty shell of a character, a copycat filling space and time until her next scene. 

"She's dumb as a sack of rocks." 

"No one is reading the story right now, remember? The author is still writing it. Your Name is an empty character," you explain, scanning her perfect figure up and down with a jealous click of your tongue.

"So, if someone reads the story…" 

"Then part of that person's character is reflected in Your Name. It's what makes fanfiction fun to read. You get to put yourself in the story." 

Okay, maybe Jimin sees the attractiveness in that. It's an escape just like video games, except more lame and pitiful. 

Your Name has yet to do or say anything else. She just sways with her hands folded against her chest, mind empty, no thoughts, unable to leave or initiate anything without the author's guidance or some other trigger. 

"Why would anyone want to be her?" 

The doors to the cafeteria burst open, immediately stealing everyone's attention. The whole building pauses in place, heads turning in slow-mo to see what the big commotion is about, choirs of gasps and the sound of panties dropping to the ground left and right. 

In walks sex on legs, dark hair fluffy with a gloved hand brushing through thick bangs, skin tight jeans and a leather bracer around his wrist. He pretends to pull an arrow from the empty quiver on his hip, shooting it and a charming wink in the direction of a cafeteria worker, chuckling when they faint against the wall with a hand over their heart. 

There's only one person who could have that kind of effect simply by walking into the room. 

"That's why," you reply, hypnotized eyes following his every move through the line to get lunch. "The main male lead." 

"So, it's all about the guy, huh?" 

"Obviously. It is a Jungkook fanfic, so yeah."

Jimin gawks. "Wait, that's supposed to be Jeon Jungkook? You mean the singer slash actor in real life?" 

"Yep," you sigh in content. Even if this is a fanfic, you're in the same room as the Jungkook and you'll never forget this day. 

"That dude doesn't know archery," Jimin pouts. 

"It's a fanfic, so he does in this story, okay? Shut up." 

Jimin just rolls his eyes, too proud to admit the way you're staring at that fanfic character makes his blood boil something awful. But you're not the only one entranced. 

Your Name hasn't been able to blink since Jungkook walked in, hands folded shyly at her chest and lips slightly parted. She holds her breath as he struts in her direction, whipping his hair out of his eyes only for it to gracefully fall over his forehead again. 

Jungkook passes by with his lunch, but he doesn't even give Your Name a glance, not even the barest of recognitions. She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Just a defeated sigh when Jungkook sits down at a table with a bunch of other students and not her. 

She pulls her bag further up her shoulder, putting her head down and walking out of the cafeteria as unnoticeably as possible. Jimin watches her, a surprising sense of sympathy for her despite reminding himself she's a fictional character. 

You lift a finger to your temple, leaning into Jimin's side as you both watch the scene play out. "I understand." 

"What? What just happened?" 

"We have to get Jungkook together with Your Name. She's the shy, unnoticed school girl and he's the popular, sporty hunk with a heart of gold." 

"Oh come on, that's the worst trope ever." He rolls his eyes in Jungkook's direction. "Heart of gold my ass. He just walked right passed Your Name and didn't even flinch." 

"Like you would know anything about fanfic tropes." 

"Video games have tropes too, you know." 

You roll your lips tight when he sticks his tongue out at you, trying not to smile at how cute he was just now. 

"Like what?" 

Jimin begins counting on his fingers. "I could name five off the top of my head." 

"Are any of them the shy school girl and popular sports star?"

"No." 

"Then you can reference video games again when they can actually help us," you say, looking back at Jungkook's table. "For how, we need to figure out a way to get those two together so we can end the fic and get out of here. Any ideas?" 

::

Full fic to be posted!

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loving you is all i know

pairing: taehyung x reader

wordcount: 19k

glimpse: you feel as if the world would stop revolving without taehyung in it, so you protect him with all your might. taehyung thinks that heaven wouldn't fall even without you in it, so he revokes every fiber of your being.

alternatively, you're taehyung's guardian angel and you'd go to hell and back for him — even if you get nothing in return; even if you never receive the love that you give.

[ heavy angst i'm telling u rn, wholesome n comforting moments here and there, unrequited love (at first), so much longing, emotional constipation, mentions of intercourse (not between the main pairing), self-doubt and loathing, mentions of blood n injuries, jk's a literal devil but his acts of evil include making fun of a funky-looking bird, this fic isn't biblically accurate/specifically religious at all because i never intended it to be in the first place :) ]

notes: and it's finally here <3 took me about three days to write sporadically but really, this idea's been sitting on my drafts for already half a year!! once again gonna reiterate that this fic is gonna be on the heavier side so pls read with caution!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

“Is that him?”

Jimin hears you ask for the thirteenth time ever since you've landed on Earth — and that was four minutes ago.

He would like to think that he's a patient man, really. He'd like to think that he's calm and not irritable even when the peer (friend, if you really push him to consider you one) he's with at the moment tends to be repetitive.

Time is merely a social construct and angels, of all beings, know that something which is meant to be undefined and infinite shouldn't be constrained by two little hands moving clockwise. Sure, five minutes in Heaven is still five minutes on Earth, but with you in tow?

Jimin could swear easily that you make time either faster or slower than it should be.

"Don't you think I would've already pointed it out to you if we saw him already? After all, this is why we came down here, hmm?"

He's a snippy angel, that's what he's been told. He's a considerate and caring one but he just tends to become a little bit sharp with his tone and the way he lazily looks at people before he rolls his eyes, playing it off as if he's praying to the sky.

Jimin knows that he's not exactly the textbook version of what should be strictly good and holy, but seeing you giggle at the way he snaps at you, he's reminded that maybe, just maybe, you may be his favorite mentee that he's ever had.

"Right, right. Please caw immediately when you spot him, okay?" you plead to him and you don't miss the way he guffaws at your request, crossing his arms against his chest while you peer at the pedestrian lane at any sign of him.

It's raining and it's the first time you've been here.

Everything overwhelms you but it's the good type of sensory overload that you feel within your senses. Everything feels so raw and real and saturated that your body feels heady trying to take it all in.

The rain actually dampens the silk of your shirt and for once, it's dark outside. The skies are dark and muted and no longer bright, but it's still illuminated by the moon you've only barely seen through your lifetime. It's cold and gloomy but you allow yourself to bask in it, unaware of the fact that you're unconsciously shivering.

The streets are busy and loud but at the same time, they lull to the same comfortable noise you've expected it to be. There's laughter and eagerness and concern that you can pick up within the mix that it makes your head whip at every passing person.

People walk through you given that you and Jimin are invisible to their sights, but you don't mind. You can't scoff and avoid people who walk into you just like how Jimin does because they're too enticed with their lives going on that you want in on it. You grow interested at every passing conversation and every dulling thought that you interact with.

Jimin literally has a grip on you with the way his hand is fisting the back of your shirt to stop you from wandering because the exact spots where the two of you are now are exactly what's intended, not requiring any of you to seek out what's already predestined.

"Is that him?"

You ask the moment you see the back of someone's head that looks like the silhouette of him passing at the crosswalk, about to free yourself from Jimin's grip when he tugs you back with a sigh.

“Not everyone who passes by is automatically your human, Y/N.”

Jimin tolerates your presence and even if everyone thinks he has no choice but to, considering the fact that you're his last mentee that he needs before being promoted, he genuinely does like having you around.

But in moments like these, when your eyes are too bright following even the silhouette of someone that resembles your human; when your hands reach out unconsciously to carry burdens that you aren't even sure of entirely — Jimin fears that you'd be hurt.

You’re smart. You're too kind. You're a little too trusting and devoted. You're too dedicated and loving. You're too much of everything good and too less of anything bad; too much of everything selfless and too less of everything self-serving.

Jimin believes that he has no fear but he thinks that the pathetic bone-chilling goosebumps he gets are reserved for his mentee who's yet again trying to break from his hold to try and chase someone down; his mentee who took the rashest yet most endearing way to his heart, enough for him to look at you as a sibling he's prayed countless of times for. Enough for him to insult you in his head as he tries to reign in his worries.

You are a stupidly, irrationally devoted person.

“Minnie, they can’t see us right?”

He indulges you by agreeing with no complaints to ease your nerves, biting back remarks about how this was already a given if you take into account how many people have already walked through the two of you. Even more, he lets your nickname for him pass as he doesn't even look fazed when you glance at him.

“Not a single trace. We’re only-” his eyes follow the blinking of the pedestrian stoplight as the green glow times out, his ears perking up at the familiar roar of an engine he can't mistake, "seen when we want to be seen."

The rain still drops and even though it's faint enough for you to go through yet heavy enough for you to feel, all that your senses could register is him.

You’ve been training for practically hundreds of years. You're short-handed for the whole period itself because majority of guardian angels train for thousands but with Jimin overseeing you, he didn't necessarily feel that you needed the extra time.

You feel too aware and in tune with him because all you have is tunnel vision at this point. No longer could you hear the bustle and feel the rain because the world stops for you even if it doesn't for anyone no matter what.

“That’s him.”

Jimin speaks definitely but he already knows that you were sure of it even before he opened his mouth, eyes glancing at you as you peer at him nervously before looking at the human who's merely stuck in traffic.

“Y-yeah? That must be him, right?” you rhetorically ask even if you know that there's no answer otherwise, eyes in disbelief yet your heart in credence as you only gaze at your human with pure curiosity.

Your human, the one who's sat at the convertible and has his gaze blank even if the world around him is clear-cut. Your human, the one with the silky dark hair and the blatantly expensive clothes that are getting damp by the minute. Your human, the one with the distinctly beautiful features that look devoid of everything pleasing.

“Kim Taehyung.”

The world stops for you even if the ticking stoplight should tell you that it hasn't. You feel driven and compelled for something you don't even know of and Jimin knows he starting to lose you for one of his only fears.

Your eyes are too bright and your hands start to itch to try and relieve whatever burden your human has, the one fatal flaw of yours that he picks out from the start already becoming glaringly evident.

You are a stupidly, irrationally devoted person.

“Read his files, right?” Jimin asks for the sake of conversation, momentarily pulling you out of your trance as you nod eagerly.

You've read Taehyung's files only a couple thousand times and as much as you know him by calculated words and scripted assumptions, seeing him in the flesh the first time is incomparable to every description you've tried to coax out of your mentor.

“Only brought you down so you could take a look at him before your official job starts next week. If you suddenly realize you don’t like him, then I’m sorry but there is literally nothing I could do.”

You harbor no dislike for your human and you think that you never will because in this angle, he looks every bit lovable. He looks every bit of the fruition from your rigorous training and sleepless nights of worry. Taehyung's only twenty-six years of age but he's worth the hundreds of years of your own, willing to take him under your wing even if it costs your training to be a thousand.

“You could, however, file a complaint to HR explaining why you don’t want to protect the human that’s fated to you," Jimin continues and his tirade against human resources keeps you grounded, coaxing a laugh out of you as he's frenzied to explain. "They’d give you a response perhaps a millennium later, but that’s alright of course!”

He's become so worried for you that he turned his attention into becoming too worked up instead, effectively working when his trepidation becomes irritation instead. It's passive-aggressive of him and he knows it entirely that he wills himself to change the topic, unaware that you're no longer listening.

Jimin's too absorbed with stressing how HR annoys him to no end that he realizes belatedly that his fist is no longer grabbing you by the back of your shirt, eyes widening in surprise.

“What are you-...”

His feet stop at the sight of yours walking to where your human is, figure completely determined with no mind to your surroundings.

In all honesty, Taehyung hasn't even realized that it was raining.

He's drained from yet another party his appearance needed to be in. He's done nothing besides go through the motions of having objective fun in the name of downing shots, flirting left and right, and making a show out of his dignified name. Yet again, he did nothing besides going through activities of what's supposed to be letting loose but he feels so stiff.

He's an heir at his family's company. He's a socialite at his friends' parties. He's someone so famous that sometimes, people collectively forget that they don't even know what or why he's popular.

In his car, by himself, Taehyung's neither an heir, a socialite, or a celebrity.

Either he doesn't know that it's raining or he does yet he doesn't care, but either way, it's a sight your heart can't take to bear.

Jimin watches as you walk with purpose to where your human is and before either of you could realize, you're sat at the dock of his car and your wings that you rarely flex are out. The wings you don't even fluff and feather in special occasions are out and it's to shield a human who could simply push a button to shelter him from the rain.

Taehyung blinks once, twice, when he realizes that the outpouring of rain has suddenly stopped. He'd already known prior that the sky was raining and he'd grown numb to the soft pitter-patter, but now that it's suddenly stopped, then does the feeling of the raindrops return.

He looks left and right and he barely flinches in realization that the sky's only stopped falling for him, the bizarreness of the situation not quite hitting him.

He looks up and you gasp out of reflex, momentarily forgetting that you’re invisible but if you focus just a bit more closely, Taehyung’s eyes harden as if he could see you — his eyes curious and glassy yet firm, making you believe that he could truly see you.

His car shifts back into drive and the moment it revs forward is the instance that you walk back to Jimin, eyes trained on the vehicle as it speeds off.

Your visit should've already been done the moment your eyes landed on Taehyung but your mind is the furthest thing away from succumbing into rest, making a mental note to make him drive a little less haphazardly.

There's not much traffic anymore which is why you could see from a distance how despite the roads being empty, he switches lanes ever so often; maybe it's for the thrill, maybe it's for the feeling.

You watch until you could no longer see him from a distance, but you know you can still feel him. You watch and you smile until the back of your shirt gets crumpled again and Jimin coaxes you to snap out of it.

That’s your human.

Taehyung’s your human.

( ♡ )

Taehyung likes anticipating things.

He wants to buy a bottle of booze he’d never drink and a candle he’d never light. At the top of his head, he makes lists in his mind to lull himself back to sleep because counting sheep never worked for him. When you ask him what he wants, he’d answer in detail and stop talking until it satisfies the itch in his mind.

He has every capability to be able to anticipate things without fear of draining out his wallet and in his mind it’s so much worse. He’s weaponized beyond belief and there’s no actual threshold for him to stop anticipating — but he does it nonetheless.

Taehyung buys the 25-year old Japanese single malt whiskey even if he just wants to display it on his shelf and rarely ever thought about drinking it. He looks forward to drinking it one day, and he doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, but he postpones each urge he has. He could easily buy another bottle for him to consume and retain the other as a display piece, but not once has he thought about actually doing it.

He buys the custom-made artisan candle in the shape of the cake that his mother used to bake for him and have the scent of it modeled to replicate the smell of his childhood blankie. It’s beautiful without a doubt, but all he does is keep it inside a glass display box away from sunlight and gaze at it.

He's always known he could have duplicates of the things he treasures the most. He could have the most beautiful moments of his life reproduced over and over again but despite having the capability, he chooses not to because that's the problem itself.

Taehyung has and could have everything to the point that he holds himself back.

He holds himself back from repeating anything worthy enough of his effort because the more he orbits around the same loop, the more that he feels detached with the very reason he's done it in the first place.

He isn't irked when he sees the wonky vase he's made for his mother out of a whim when he was 17, bored, and had too much money in his pockets. The clay's imperfect and the sage green glaze doesn't save it. It looks swanky and too bourgeoise in their family home and that's coming from him, the too many 24k gold leaves haphazardly stuck on the vase starting from the bottom. It's an eyesore but Taehyung doesn't want to recreate the vase, this time with more finesse and vision, because he finds no point going back to a memory that's already been lived in.

He was young at 17, bored, and had too much money in his pockets when he decided to rent out a whole pottery studio to work in it privately and make a vase for his mom. He takes it home to her and they have a good laugh about it.

It's a pure memory he wants to leave untouched.

"Going out tonight, don't follow me."

Taehyung jogs down the stairs with the most mundane and unsuspecting outfit he could find in his closet to walk around in at night — the dull grey get-up coincidentally being a luxury brand, but it's good enough for him.

"I can't not follow you, sir."

Namjoon emphasizes through his teeth, his hands held in front of him as he asserts his figure at the bottom of the staircase; a not-so-subtle way to tell him that he should be tailing him wherever he goes at this time of night.

Taehyung's had Namjoon as his bodyguard for what feels like forever because even if the guy only has a couple of years on him, it seems to him that they've grown together. His bodyguard four years ago was definitely not this buff, that much he's sure of. In fact, he's being lenient in this tone because Namjoon of four years ago would've just tailed him no matter what without uttering a single word.

And now, they banter just like how brothers would.

"Jeez, I can manage, trust me. Does this outfit scream socialite to you, hm?" he juts his hip out, motioning to the monochromatic ensemble he has on that he deems simple enough.

"No," Namjoon replies almost immediately and his client thinks that he's already cleared just like that, but Taehyung's yanked back just as quick when he attempts to walk past him. "No, not only do you look like a socialite, but you also look like an heir to a billionaire — you are both, sir."

"Shut up," he whines, rolling his eyes, "and I know you're not calling me by my name just so you could get on nerves."

"My apologies," Namjoon smiles too sweetly for his own good, "my apologies sir dimwit." His hand comes to lightly smack Taehyung on the back of his head that earns him an appalled scoff, widened eyes looking frantically him.

"What the hell was that for?!" he sputters, soothing the barely-hurting spot on his head before the hand he uses to do it is grabbed by the wrist.

"You're going out tonight wearing the saddest looking pair of sweatpants but you're wearing a Patek Philippe on your wrist. It's like you want to be robbed."

"Hey, maybe I do want to be robbed," Taehyung chimes, easily earning himself another swat which he barely dodges. "What? I've been protected my whole life! I atleast want to feel a thrill."

The moment the words leave his lips, he immediately grasps how entitled and disconnected he sounds like.

Namjoon knows that the younger boy means well and he tries his best to understand (he really does) that Taehyung and of his like have a much different set of problems than what he has. It’s perhaps an ill-painted joke that was supposed to be lighthearted but he can’t just let him get away with it this time, considering the two of them have grown close enough to make jabs at him.

“Right. I am so, so sorry you’ve been sheltered and stable your whole life, Taehyung.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” he mumbles under his breath, suddenly meek as he looks down on the floor.

It’s not much of a tense silence because it’s normal for them to poke fun at each other every once in a while, but what he does know is that it’s weighted.

It’s a little sudden even if the two of them stand in parallel positions with Namjoon having his jaw set and his gaze burning through Taehyung’s scalp, and the latter being the one to look away until the purpose of why he’s still here pops into his head.

“Are you religious?”

Namjoon deadpans at the question popped out of the blue, throwing in a shrug when it sinks into his head that the question’s asked insistently.

“Sometimes.”

“Do you believe in a higher power?”

“When I need to.”

Namjoon doesn’t plan on elaborating as much as Taehyung doesn’t plan on asking, looking at him boredly.

Silence doesn’t engulf them anymore but either way, the atmosphere remains loaded but perhaps it’s only one-sided because Taehyung bounces back, a perk in his step as he fixes his posture.

“Good,” he affirms. “Then just believe in that higher power you have that someone’s watching over me tonight.”

“Someone?” he chuckles at the animosity of the being that Taehyung’s implying, although not against it either.

“Mhmm. Anyone, someone. Just think of it as someone looking over me to keep me safe. Look, someone’s watching over me too while I go out alone tonight!”

Taehyung smiles as he explains, feet angling towards the door already as he continues.

“You’re saying this just so I wouldn’t be on your tail.”

The motive behind his little existential question and answer moment is clear as day and neither of them try to serve the dignity for themselves because Taehyung’s halfway through the door and surprisingly, Namjoon is rooted in the same spot.

“I sure am,” he chuckles and after lingering for one more second to know that he wouldn’t have a security detail for tonight, he says a rushed goodbye before bolting to the door. He almost trips on his feet at excitement but he plays it off, continuing with his bit. “Would you look at that! I didn’t trip.”

Taehyung smiles as he collects his keys by the foyer, looking back at his bodyguard with a faux look of amazement in his features.

“Someone caught me, don’t you think?”

Namjoon sighs in resignation as he just dismisses him, knowing that he would’ve gone even without his permission not unless he literally manhandles him back inside the mansion. “Just don’t do anything stupid, Tae. Please.”

Taehyung knows to himself that he’s mostly sensible by all accounts and takes pride in it. He’s eerily too self-aware that he knows what exactly to pick himself apart for, even if he opts to keep his observations to himself.

He knows he’s being curt when he barely bats an eyelash to an employee that bares his all in pitching a product he didn’t even bother reading about. He could’ve had the opportunity to prove that he isn’t a half-baked socialite who gets to sit in meetings with his mother, but he passes up on the chance simply because he feels unwilled to prove anything to anyone at this point.

He knows he’s being apathetic when he always looks as if he’s put on hostage whenever he takes pictures of himself with Scooby to send to his mom, serving as proof that he takes care of the hyacinth macaw. The pictures he sends consist of the big blue talking bird perched on his shoulder, a less than pleased obligatory smile on his face. Is Scooby his actual bird? No. But is Scooby his mom’s bird that she tearfully gave to Taehyung when he moved out, even if he clearly didn’t ask for it, with the reason that she doesn’t want her son to be alone? Yes.

He knows he’s being rude when he goes out of his way to eagerly deny that he’s a mama’s boy even if she’s present in the scene. The both of them know that it’s true either way, but he also knows that it brings him nowhere because it’s clear as day that the two of them have a healthy mother-son relationship that people would trade riches for.

Taehyung knows he’s being reckless when he heads straight to the crowded lively pier that’s more or less gonna attract attention to himself; the only one with sunglasses at the dark of the night, and the one who looks like a complete tourist craning his neck up to look at fireworks.

In under no circumstance has he ever blended into a crowd. Kim Taehyung the socialite is someone whose face as a baby was revealed in a magazine with a payment that’s more than enough to support him through his lifetime. He’s the name that precedes commonality in and before itself.

He stands out too much and he’s blissfully unaware to the point that he’s garnered quite an audience with the purpose to look at a guy who’s peering up at the sky. He’s entranced to the point of disconnection that he only snaps out of his adoration when he harshly gets pulled by the arm, an offending screech immediately escaping him.

“What are you doing outside without Namjoon? Why did you go out dressed like this?!”

He could swear that he was only grabbed for a second and that the tree line he’s in now is atleast thirty feet away from the pier, the confusion overtaking him before the anger registers completely that someone’s just grabbed him.

“Next time, don’t just make abrupt outings like these, alright? And what are you doing wearing a flashy watch like that? Taehyung, think about it! Do you know that anyone could make a shiv from the corndog sticks they’re selling here? Anyone! Hey, what if someone randomly stabbed you for your watch, huh? You’re just-…”

The complete bemusement Taehyung knows he feels is soon dissolved because looking at you, someone who he doesn’t have a single clue of, melts away the anxiety of going out alone that he didn’t even know he felt. He doesn’t know one bit about the person standing in front of him who’s blubbering worriedly and is wearing a far noticeable outfit than him, but it’s odd for him to not feel any fear towards you.

You’re carried away with worry to the point that you don’t even notice the human standing scarily still in front of you is trying to catch your face, head tilting to catch yours that’s anxiously whipping about.

“Hey. Stop it.”

The way Taehyung’s voice reaches your ears paralyzes you completely, eyes moving with a newfound curiosity to see if he’s addressing you.

He resists the urge to tilt his head rudely when he finally gets to catch your gaze, instead being worse off when he nods his chin to you in acknowledgement.

“Who are you supposed to be?”

You’re prepared for this. Jimin’s been prepping you almost your whole existence on what you should answer when your human asks you who you are. There’s a manual for almost every situation including when you willingly show your physical form to a human but god would you suggest to Jimin once you see him again to make a manual entitled: What should a guardian angel do when they accidentally reveal themselves in a fit of worry because they trailed after their human who unknowingly put himself in danger?

Your mouth dries despite the numerous hypothetical question-and-answer portions you’ve had with Jimin. You give yourself pep talks every sunrise that you’re quick-witted but holy shit do you feel unguarded, tripping over your words as you try to be as easy-going as you could.

“I’m supposed to be your guardian angel. Wait, not supposed, I mean assigned. No, no, that sounds forced. Well no, I’m not forcing myself on you! But I mean — god, I’m just saying that I’m your angel! Whether you like it or not, I’m your guardian and — oh no, do you not like me? Please like me because I’m not implying that you don’t have a choice but-…”

Taehyung’s eerily self-aware.

He knows that he’s baffled beyond measure to hear what he’s hearing now and see what he’s seeing now and that if anything, it’s awe-striking that he’s trying to be level-headed in this situation.

He knows that it’s rational to be thrown into a loop to have something as simultaneously big and mind-bending of a revelation to be dropped by someone equally as unfathomable.

He knows that he’s not particularly and devotedly religious nor spiritual in the first place but even that would not be enough of a reason to make sense of the whole concept of you.

What Taehyung doesn’t know is that despite walking away from you wordlessly and calling it a night, he gets home safe because of the proclaimed angel who’s promised its existence to him. He doesn’t know that he’s walked in a warm and well-lit path without anyone standing in the way of him, nor does he know that the serene buzz of fireworks that he hears all the way home is exclusive to him.

Taehyung doesn’t know you yet, but he knows that he’d be able to get home just fine even if he hadn’t met you tonight.

Atleast that’s what he believes.

( ♡ )

“I’m sorry but you are-?”

Namjoon blinks hardly to look at you, eyes straining from the train of thought that his mind’s enduring at the moment.

Being a bodyguard, he’s already had his fair share of unexplainable experiences. Is this the first time that Taehyung asks him to meet someone to scope them out? Definitely not. Is this the first time that Taehyung asks him to profile someone with no prior explanation? Of course not. Is this the first time that Taehyung asks him ambiguously to scope someone out with a highly-specific explanation? It is and there’s no logical explanation to what he feels.

You admire Namjoon who stands before you, looking past his tense and confused exterior to instead notice some of the marks that he carries. You’ve read about Taehyung’s file extensively and in it for the most part is the buff bodyguard that keeps staring you down.

You’re grateful for him and the healing scratch you see on his bicep, one you know that he’s gotten after getting Taehyung through a mob outside a concert that they’ve attended. You’re thankful for him and the bruises on his elbows from pummeling against paparazzi from your human’s latest trip abroad. He’s been Taehyung’s angel on earth even before you properly came into the picture and you can’t thank him enough.

He’s a little bit mean but it doesn’t deter you, prompting you to answer him eagerly.

“Tae’s guardian angel.”

“Tae?” he tilts his head at the use of the nickname, earning him a shriek from aforementioned guy.

“That’s what you’re checking?”

Truth be told, he didn’t even know what to expect from Namjoon when he told him to meet you. He looked calm even when not a second later that he agrees, you already come through the door because you’ve followed Taehyung home. He didn’t know what to make of Namjoon meeting someone who’s probably volatile if what all of you’re saying is true, but Taehyung for sure knows that he didn’t expect this.

Namjoon looks calmer than he expected him to be. He looks laid-back and not anxious at all, his eyebrows relaxed and his jaw unclenched as he looks at you in the way that he doesn’t find you a grave threat at all. He’s always on-guard given the nature of his job and yet he acts as if it’s his day-off.

Namjoon extends his hand out, probably awaiting for something of yours that it makes you flustered, recalling all the things you’ve brought with you that’s significant enough for him to ask for.

“I’m gonna need to see an ID.”

The shock that consumes your features is apparent, a breathless sigh leaving you. “An ID?”

You weren’t prepared for this impromptu interrogation at all. Jimin’s once explained the concept of humans being verified by a piece of plastic with holographic film on it and the both of you agreed that it’s pathetic to even attempt to have one, seeing to it that neither of you aren’t bound to the land you step on anyway.

The concept is so pathetic and important at the same time that it makes you want to grip your hair out because of course! Namjoon is Taehyung’s bodyguard and of course he’ll protect him, starting by verifying your identity first.

“Excuse me,” Namjoon gently interjects, taking a few steps back to come near to Taehyung who’s leaning against the wall. He tries to be subtle as he motions his head to you, a genuinely curious lilt to his voice. “Is miss guardian angel here a stripper?”

Taehyung chokes on nothing, eyes widening tremendously. “W-what?” he coughs, shoulders trembling from the abruptness. “Namjoon, come on man,” he grimaces at the tactless tone and that’s coming from him. Him!

You obviously overhear their conversation and the frantic flailing of your hands remind them that you’re still here. “I’m a real angel, trust me! Look, I can even call my mentor to prove my existence.”

“Oh you have a mentor?” Namjoon snickers, itching his temple as he comes back to standing in front of you. “Nice.”

“I know it’s easy not believing me but-“

“I’m glad you do.”

If anyone were to tell Namjoon that he’d be interviewing a supposed guardian angel in his boss’ office (who’s younger than him in age) while in his sweatpants because this flow of events happened extremely fast, he would smack you in the face to never say shit like that again.

“And I’m not mad at all because this is great! Namjoon, this is exactly why you’re perfect as Taehyung’s bodyguard. You’re always wary and that’s what he needs exactly. No one comes close to your skill — wait, I pretty much do but you get my point,” you ramble continuously, only being aware of the cold glare on you when you take the time to look up. “… right?”

Namjoon knows as far that his name isn’t the only thing you know. He knows as far that no stalker would ever act the way you’re doing right now because ill-intended people like those would always have their intentions transparent no matter the facade — your intentions are desperate but they only reek of innocence.

He gets praised for his skill and is brought down the next second because this stranger who’s just barged in poked at his job in his own place of work, disregarding the compliments altogether to roll his eyes at you and peer at Taehyung.

“Why did you want me to meet her again?”

“I didn’t want you to. She just keeps following me,” he shrugs all too well, already knowing that he’s set you up perfectly to be the receiving end of Namjoon’s rudeness.

The bodyguard returns his gaze at you, eyes narrowed in reply. “That makes you a stalker, not an angel.”

The sigh that leaves you sounds close to being tired, your hands bunched together as you plead with him longer. In all honesty, it’s a fair comparison but following Taehyung is your job as an angel! You already know that you’re only irritating the both of them further at your insistence but you won’t leave without maximizing your efforts, in utter hope that it would come to fruition.

“Please trust me. Look, my mentor’s coming any second now. I could prove it to you even before then but-“

“Then prove it.”

Jimin’s communicated back to you that he’ll be beside you in less than ten minutes because he’s still straightening things up with HR, since apparently, he’s “accidentally” set the supervisor named Seokjin’s desk on flames and he was “apologizing” by the time you’ve contacted him.

You can’t wait any longer for him because you know that it would only raise their disbelief for you in the first place, springing you into action. The first thought that crosses your mind is to look at the room, skimming on what you could utilize.

The three of you are in Taehyung’s study anyway and the way that it’s massive reminds you that you need to narrow down it immediately. You look around frantically, eyes landing on Tae who’s laid down on the couch with his phone in his hands that you snatch it away immediately; the same speed that he told Namjoon about what he felt back in the pier being apparent.

“Take a picture of me now.”

The phone’s outstretched for Namjoon to take, finding it a little silly that you look so determined and the only thing you’re holding onto (quite physically and mentally) is a phone. He doesn’t question it, taking it from your hands with his eyebrows raised on how exactly would this pan out.

He obliges with little to no enthusiasm at all as you hurriedly place yourself next to Taehyung, lazily holding the phone up to a point that it paints the scene of Tae glaring at the back of your head for snatching it in the first place, and you looking straight at the camera with a tiny smile.

Namjoon doesn’t even count and presses on the gallery to show you the picture because that’s exactly what he does too when Taehyung asks him to capture photos, briefly glancing at it to ask what’s your point-

And then he stops.

Namjoon retracts the phone before you even get to point it out, eyes blinking rapidly to look down on the screen.

Only Taehyung is in the picture.

He switches between random photos at the gallery and yet no matter which way he scrolls, the picture remains the same. Taehyung’s glaring at the air. There’s no shadows of your figure to be found, nor a single speck of motion that suggests you’ve just moved really quickly to get out of the shot before he even pressed capture.

“I’m not there,” you softly say as if it isn’t obvious yet, staying rooted in your position next to Taehyung, “but I’m here.”

Namjoon brings up the phone again but this time he takes a video, making his hand stable and wobbly at the next as he even zooms in repeatedly, pressing end as he keeps looking back and forth between you and the lack of you on the screen.

You’re still not there.

“Go to your room, Tae.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” he snickers as he walks past his bodyguard, snatching his phone back before he shuts the door on his way out.

You could predict you’re not completely off the hook yet with the way Namjoon looks at you with much curiosity, the both of you knowing that it’s laced with hesitancy through and through.

“I’m not trusting you just because you don’t show up in a picture.”

Admittedly, the whole thing of you being capable to show yourself to people in real-time while being unable to do so in any tangible evidence such as footage, is not the soundest idea of proof you could offer. After all, disappearing from screens isn’t all that promising because electronic devices are fallible.

Your train of thought ends at what could possibly be the most cliché yet the most assuring proof you could offer, not exactly being the most comfortable with it entirely.

“I could show you my wings.”

Namjoon’s attention is blatantly piqued, his eyes twinkling with something else other than curiosity. “No tricks?”

“You want me to take my shirt off?” you take your offer further and it takes him aback, later explaining to avoid him misinterpreting your words. “For you to see it clearly, I mean.”

“Sure,” he nods solemnly but his voice is caught on your throat, the atmosphere shifting in volumes when he raises the question. “Why are you trying to gain my trust first? I’m not your human.”

Another thing you admire about him is his sensibility. He’s keen to pick up on things and takes his cues well, not waiting on opportunities to make things known and instead make them himself.

“You trusting me means more than you think to Taehyung,” you admit. “He values your judgement a lot.”

Namjoon comes from a big family and he knows what it’s like to treat someone as such. Family’s messy and broad at all accounts and he knows that Taehyung comes close to someone he could treat as a younger brother, the admission coming from an outsider (although not exactly) still taking him by surprise.

Taehyung rarely trusts but when he does, it’s boundless. It covers him by extension and the both of you know that if there’s anyone in the room that Taehyung would entrust his life to, it’s not the actual guardian angel that comes in the form of you.

“I can get rid of you, y’know?” Namjoon speaks thickly, sounding more of a realization than it is a threat. “And Taehyung would probably never question me.”

“I know that,” you nod in full understanding despite the true implications of what he’s saying, “you can’t really fully get rid of me, but atleast let me show you before you do — please?”

Thinking about it, Namjoon wouldn’t lose anything at all from this interaction. In fact, he’s the one with the upper hand because someone of supposed divinity is asking for his permission. Your eagerness to prove yourself looks pitiful at this point that he relents. “Turn around.”

You don’t waste a second in taking your shirt off that it momentarily stuns Namjoon, looking away briefly until he realizes that he shouldn’t take his eyes off of you if he truly wants to believe. You shudder not because your skin is exposed, rather you feel slightly uncomfortable with the way you feel your wings unfurl. Only your back is visible to him but it makes you feel as if you’re naked, keeping your gaze down to avoid looking at your own appendages on any reflective surface.

Surprisingly, you don’t like your wings. Clearly, Namjoon doesn’t know that but he doesn’t need to since voicing out your unease would only raise his suspicions for you.

Jimin knows the most of your dislike for your own wings and how unlike any other angel, you don’t feel comfortable nor prideful of yours. This whole experience itself would’ve felt more uncomfortable if you showed them to anyone who’s much closer to you, but seeing to it that it’s only Namjoon who’s close to a complete stranger, the weight feels lighter.

The unease you feel is only a prick instead of a sting — this is for Taehyung anyway.

Namjoon didn’t know what to expect in the first place but seeing this, seeing you, he feels relieved when he sees wings appear in front of his very eyes, seamlessly sprouting from your own back. He didn’t know if he wanted to believe you in the first place but seeing how his figure slacks and his breathing stabilize, he knows the answer for himself. He doesn’t realize that his hand’s moving on its own to touch them, your figure immediately shuddering at the touch that he snaps out of his curious reverie.

“What are you doing here?” he breaks the tension effectively even if the silence felt more comforting than it is suffocating, his question knowingly out of the superficial context it once took.

“I’m here to protect Taehyung.”

“What do you think I’m here for then?” Namjoon asks with no malice, eyes unblinking because he feels as if you’d disappear from his sight at any second.

“That’s your job,” you reply honestly, knowing what he was trying to imply. “But it’s my destiny.”

He purses his lips in thought of how you don’t waste a beat in responding back to him. You’re more than serious and you even acknowledged that your purpose is already his job. The job of protecting Taehyung is already taken and yet here you are, incessantly wedging yourself in.

“I exist for it.”

“You don’t feel sad about it?” he asks with a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets to prevent himself from picking at his cuticles. “That you exist solely to protect Taehyung?”

Namjoon’s only met you today and yet the pity he feels for you lasts for a lifetime. He thinks that you’ve been handed the shortest end of a stick and something as trivial as protecting a human is the sole purpose of someone ethereal — it’s unfair for you.

“His first thought was to take you to me with the intention of getting rid of you.”

It’s beyond obvious that getting rid of you one way or another is Taehyung’s plan. He let you follow him when in the handful times you did, he’s warded you away by yelling or sticking to someone else to ignore you.

You aren’t clueless, you know that Taehyung easily led you right to Namjoon to have you taken care of.

“There’s nothing sad about it,” you shrug, picking up the pity you hear from his voice. “I actually could exist for myself when something happens in particular,” you admit, catching his attention once more.

Namjoon stands curious as he finds himself waiting for your next words, looking closely to see that your expression remains genuine.

“But until then, I’d live for Taehyung as much as he wants me to.”

“If he doesn’t?” he counters, squinting his eyes at the deep commitment he picks up from someone he pities more than himself.

“Then I’m thankful that he wanted me enough at some point to not want me anymore.”

.

.

Taehyung paces at the living room, his angry shuffling surely being audible even if you’re across the massive area.

“You’re allowing her to be around?!”

“Just think of her as Scooby.”

Namjoon carelessly replies, going over Taehyung’s itineraries and schedules while he’s sat on the floor. He’s perfectly relaxed and if only he didn’t know better, he’d mistaken Taehyung for the hyacinth macaw itself with the way he’s squawking and flying all over the room.

“Noisy, follows me around, and fusses over me?”

“Yup,” he hums, earning him a frustrated scoff from the younger boy. “Or just think of her as a second bodyguard.”

“Do I need to pay her?”

Taehyung’s voice switches out from his irritation, making his bodyguard’s head whip up to catch his gaze. It’s surely not the matter of money that made him focus, but instead it’s the insinuation that lies underneath his question. Just a second ago, Namjoon thought he would be fired for expressing his judgement and now?

“Do you want her around?”

Taehyung stops pacing, his gaze blank before he shakes his head fervently. “No, she annoys me,” he reasons, gesturing his hands to point at you who’s probably exploring his house at the moment. “But I can’t shake her off because you didn’t get rid of her!”

“Just try it out or something,” he sighs and what truly confuses him is if Taehyung just truly wanted to get rid of you, he’d do it himself because he has more than the power to do so, regardless of his bodyguard’s opinion. “If you don’t want her around then go file a restraining order against an angel if you could.”

“So she is an angel?” his eyes widen at the immediate turn of the conversation, a breathless scoff leaving him as he couldn’t be any more annoyed at this point.

“I believe her,” he admits, turning to see Taehyung’s reaction. “Do you?”

“Perhaps.”

The two of them are distracted within their own thoughts that none of them notice your eager descent on the stairs, only taking attention when they hear the door to the patio opening.

You already look so well-inhibited in his own house that he could’ve mistaken you for someone who lived their whole life here, only clicking into his head belatedly when he sees Scooby perched on your shoulder.

“What are you doing? He could’ve flown away!”

“Don’t worry, Tae. Look, I’m fine!” you narrate in excitement as you make a show of even stepping out to the shaded patio, waving your arms around that it’s a miracle Scooby doesn’t even flinch from your actions.

“Look, I’m fine!”

Taehyung was surely about to rip you a new one and kick you out of the house himself but the repetition of the words is what stops him, all of his vulgar words flying out the window when he points to Scooby in confusion.

“He doesn’t know-“ he shakes his head at the distraction, momentarily reserving his anger for you later. “You taught him that phrase?”

“Mhmm, I only said it twice to him!”

Taehyung could only take so much within a day and the moment his bird repeats your words when normally, it would take several weeks for him to even repeat a single one, it hits him in the head entirely.

It only dawns on him that there’s a stranger, who’s his guardian angel in an odd turn of events, is in his home after being spoken to by his usually skeptical and rude bodyguard, and on top of all that — with his bird perched on your shoulder.

“You should leave.”

“No thank you.”

“Are you shitting me right now?” he grits his teeth, eyes narrowing in anger. “Are you telling me no?” he guffaws, tilting his head in mockery. “As in no, you’re not gonna leave my own home even when I’m asking you to?”

“You don’t want me to leave,” you offer with a small smile, the hint of playfulness still in your eyes that it annoys him unlike no other.

“And you know exactly what I do and don’t want?”

Taehyung fires back and he’s only met with silence. You don’t move a single inch and hell, you don’t even look fazed. You look completely normal as if he hadn’t just exploded on you that it makes him stomp away, going up the stairs to avoid you completely.

“Unbelievable. Kick her out, Namjoon!”

“Door’s open,” Namjoon hums with disinterest as he hears Taehyung retreat up the stairs, sparing you a glance as you walk to him.

“You do know that I’m gonna come back, right?”

“Oh, I know that,” he chuckles at your giddiness despite what just happened a few seconds ago, standing up from his seat on the floor to pat on his shoulder, Scooby instantly transferring to his as he preens on his earring.

“See? You’re exactly like Scooby. You could leave anytime, but you don’t. You could fly away, but you come back,” he hums, petting the macaw. “But don’t sweat it out thinking about the bird analogy. I could just be describing lice at this context.”

“Kick her out, Namjoon!”

Now that’s a sentence Scooby has already heard a lot of compared to picking up a phrase from you freakishly quick, making him laugh at the way there’s almost always a delay whenever he parrots what he hears.

Namjoon opens the front door for you and you exit with a bounce on your step, bidding him goodbye with the promise of seeing him later.

“That’s what I’m doing, buddy.”

( ♡ )

In your first month with Taehyung, you hear him cry the loudest.

His sobs reach your ear painfully and in a second, you find yourself already standing outside of his bedroom door, ear pressed to the door in alert.

Namjoon is nowhere to be seen and you’re unsure if this is the first time this has happened, but either way, none of it matters because you’re here now. His cries make your hair stand in place that you can’t even will yourself to knock, immediately entering his room.

It’s already dark in the dead of the night but you could clearly see the outline of him against his bedframe, sat up as his sobs wrack his body raw.

Truth be told, Taehyung doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He doesn’t know why exactly he’s crying but he allows himself to because he’s hurting immensely with no idea.

“Taehyung, are you okay? Talk to me,” you mumble as you intrude his space, putting your hands on both his arms but it only makes him hunch over more, turning his face to his hands.

He’s folding over with pain and it tears you apart all over, your own tears springing from seeing him suffer.

“I’ll take the pain away,” you assure him, tilting your head down for him to see you as you hold him tighter. “I’ll take your pain away, okay? Can you hear me, Tae? I promise.”

Tonight, Taehyung's heart feels the heaviest without reason. It clenches around nothing but it feels like bursting, driving him to the point of tears.

But tonight, he isn’t alone. The pain that he feels subsides until it feels that it hasn’t even existed in the first place. It only feels like the residue of a phantom pain he once knew, the visceral grip releasing him eventually.

Your heart is the one that feels the heaviest at the dead of the night, but none of it matters to see Taehyung carrying one less burden on his shoulders.

( ♡ )

In your second month with Taehyung, you see a bruise on his neck.

You were only meant to survey the area around, really. He had insisted to eat at a hotel’s rooftop restaurant and even if Namjoon’s already eating, you still make sure just to see if anyone’s coming over to approach him, despite the lack of people in the space because you couldn’t be too sure.

Both boys are already getting started on lunch and if you didn’t know any better that Namjoon ordered for you, you would’ve felt more than appreciated to assume that Taehyung picked out your dish. You’re just about to lean your head back down to the table when you catch the flash of red, figure immediately straightening then.

The bruise is unmistakable even if your eyes only graze it for a second, seemingly-fresh with the way you could see the faint outlines of burst blood vessels on the surface.

“Who did this to you?” your voice isn’t as gentle as it was and even that makes Namjoon look up even if he wasn’t the one being addressed, wanting to find what your fuss is about. “Tell me while I’m still asking.”

“Taehyung, who hurt you?”

You repeat again and this time you’re more insistent, making his brows furrow in frustration because he doesn’t get you in the slightest bit. He hurriedly swallows his food, wiping his lips with a napkin before leaning against his chair.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The new angle grants you an unlimited view of the bruise on his neck, his relaxed figure making his hoodie shift to the side.

“That!” you inwardly wince as you squint to look closer, your view suddenly being obstructed when he goes back to hunching over the table.

“No one hurt me, stupid,” he rolls his eyes, grabbing the collar of his hoodie to show you the bruise himself. “This is a hickey.”

Taehyung thinks the expression on your face is pathetic because he’s unsure if you’re really this slow or if angels are absolutely clueless, but either way he feels the urge to rub it into your face more.

“I had a great time last night if you must know.”

His bragging gets lost on the audience because Namjoon groans to his pasta while looking away, meanwhile you’re only deadpanning at him as you recall his bodyguard saying that Taehyung often has hook-ups and by safety measures, he has to (unfortunately) stay nearby just in case.

The concept of Taehyung being hurt while apparently having a great time is lost on you but you no longer question him, your only concern being that he’s in pain.

“B-but this must hurt,” you try again, reaching your hands out from across the table. “Let me heal you,” you stand quickly, trying to coax Namjoon into switching seats with you in which he agrees to in a daze because he’s still swallowing down his food before trying to diffuse the situation.

“Huh? What are you doing?” Taehyung grumbles, moving away from you even if your hands never reach him, swatting them in the process. “Stop!”

“But you’re hurting!” you dodge his swats to press a finger on the hickey, your enhanced hearing picking up a slight wince from his throat that only proved your point further.

“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” he reasons, pushing your chair away from him with sheer strength, taking it one step further by moving his chair too. At this point, only Namjoon is the one who’s proportional to the table. “Point is, I don’t need you to take this hurt from me because I want this hickey on me.”

Taehyung clearly remembers you going into his room the night he cried, distinctly reminiscing the way the hurt he felt from his chest lifted that time. He remembers the night clearly and yet not once did he bring it up, going about his days without even thanking you for it.

He was vulnerable at the time and it just happened that you were there — he hates the interaction now that he’s moved past it.

“Why do you want it?”

“You ask so many questions!” he snaps because you simply just won’t give up even if he’s already moved you away from him, eyes narrowing at how you’re already back to his side before it even hit him. “What, are you gonna ask me how many times we’ve fucked last night? How many positions I took her in? How much I came?”

He rambles on until he feels Namjoon’s heel dig into his shoe, stopping his tirade momentarily to look at him in annoyance.

“Stop it,” his bodyguard just whispers, looking away from the situation that has since turned sour the moment Taehyung opened his mouth.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but stays quiet nonetheless, sparing you a glance specifically just to mock you further but your gazes never meet, your line of sight only fixed on your plate until you mumble.

“Please just come to me when you need it healed.”

He pokes his tongue against his cheek because you’re just too much, scoffing before going back to his lunch that’s tellingly been silent.

“I don’t need you.”

( ♡ )

In your third month with Taehyung, he asks you for a favor.

You’re used to your evenings being silent, that much you’ve observed here on your time on earth. There’s always a buzz outside of Taehyung’s house but you’ve learned quickly to tune them out, instead focusing on the sounds that are important to you — heartbeats.

You’ve heard Taehyung coming out of his room from a mile away but it’s to your shock when the door to your room creaks open, a head peeking from your doorway to reveal none other than you human.

“I need you to take me out.”

“Right now?” you clarify, feet already angling to get out of bed but you make sure to not seem ecstatic that he’s the one coming to you this time. “Take you out where?”

“Just this store, they’re closing soon,” he waves his hand before tucking into his pocket, letting it known that he’s leaving the house with his sleepwear on without bothering to change. Taehyung somehow has a clue of what’s running through your head, rolling his eyes in second nature. “I’m only taking you because Namjoon doesn’t want me to go anywhere.”

“He doesn’t want you to go anywhere because you’re still trending,” your nose scrunches, atleast having the decency to put on some socks before you put on your slippers later because from what you’ve seen in humans, the combo was apparently comfortable that it makes you want to try them out yourself.

You understand Namjoon completely on why he doesn’t want Taehyung to go out especially since his name’s still under hot water, considering that he had only been the headlines of articles just last night. In fact, you support his bodyguard’s precautions completely because it’s the most rational decision to ever make, making you applaud his skill more and more.

“Yeah, yeah. Shame on me for getting some,” he dismisses, remembering how the pictures circulating now are of him mistakenly going out of the front entrance of a hotel at the dead of night, looking thoroughly fucked out with yet another hickey just barely visible.

You already know what you’re gonna do but Taehyung catches on slowly, tapping his feet impatiently (yet quietly because Namjoon’s a light sleeper) on the floor.

“I thought you were my guardian angel, huh? Why do you not want me now?”

“I do want you!”

You reply just as quick without a single thought, standing up once you finish putting on your socks. Taehyung resists the urge to laugh at how desperate you are in clarifying your yearning for him, waiting for you by the door instead. “Then what you’re gonna do is take me now to the store, and you never speak about it to Namjoon.”

It only happens at a blink of an eye in order for the two of you to appear just a few steps away from the store he’s told you about, aware of the fact that it’d be suspicious for the two of you to pop inside out of nowhere.

The whole thing of you coming in and out unannounced never gets old for Taehyung, and although he’d never say that your teleporting jig excites him whenever you bring him around, he merely mumbles his thanks before walking ahead of you.

The store carries a barrage of art supplies and despite the volume of how much there it is, you’re more amazed at the fact that it’s all fit into the quaint and small place. Out of the whole block, the store Tae urged you into is the one that’s not well-lit nor flashy. It’s the only space one could walk past without straining their eyes and it could be easily missed, but with the way that the inside of it feels warm, you know why Taehyung comes here often.

He’s already preoccupied by the time you approach his vicinity, his fingers plucking tubes of paint from the lived-in shelves and making quick work of putting them underneath an exposed lightbulb to confirm the color. You watch him work by himself until the pile he has on his hands is steadily getting full.

“Do you paint?”

“Do you ever shut up?” he mumbles under his breath but it takes on a rather playful tone, making you smile in the process.

“Sorry,” you whisper, playing along as you peer into his hands. “What are you gonna paint?”

Taehyung’s brows knit in concentration as he looks for a specific brush from the bunch he sees in a basket, mouth parting in focus that he spews whatever comes first in his mind to make conversation with you.

“A fallen angel,” he whispers in a faux spirit of secrecy, giggling at his own attempt of banter. His eyebrows wiggle in mischief as he jokes, finally finding the thin brush that he was looking for. He hums in contentment to himself but it strikes him that there’s no reply from you when normally you would’ve been way more talkative, but he brushes past the impending suggestion of his conscience that he might be falling guilty. “Yikes, did I hit a nerve?”

Taehyung has never been good at small talk.

He knows he’s being facetious when he continues just so it wouldn’t seem like he’s starting to get nervous of why you’ve become speechless all of a sudden, willing his gaze to seem steady.

He may be quite mean sometimes, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a conscience.

“What happens to you if you fall?”

Your eyes unfocus at the sudden turn of conversation, your mouth drying at the upfront question. “I-…”

“I’m not interested.”

Taehyung goes back to giggling, turning his back on you as he pays for his items in cash, sneaking in a sigh of relief throughout his chuckles because he’s just barely managed to escape the impending guilt of his own words.

The atmosphere should already be back to normal which is why he doesn’t hesitate on walking right next to you closer than he normally would, handing you the bag of his newly-purchased supplies. “Carry these for me.”

You take his load without a word, carrying it without complaint to distract yourself because for a moment, you genuinely thought that Taehyung was watching his words and felt guilty belatedly, making him speak to you more than what you were accustomed to.

“See? When you talk less and only come around when I need you to, we could get along.”

You don’t know what to feel when he laughs sweetly before patting you on the head, taking the long way home with you by actually walking back.

“There’s a good angel.”

( ♡ )

In your fourth month with Taehyung, you ask him if you could have a visitor over.

In all fairness, your friend had only given you a heads-up just now that he would be visiting tomorrow, making you panic inwardly because you know more than anyone that meeting him here on earth is much more complicated than it is anywhere else.

You will the entirety of your shame to dissipate when you ask Taehyung, your gaze flicking to everywhere else but him which is a first. You hated inconveniencing others for your own sake but this time you choke down what little pride you had, devoid of any other choice besides being indebted to Taehyung for a day.

“You’re a visitor in my home and you’re asking me if you could have one?”

He’s not necessarily mad that you’re inviting someone else to his home. If he wants to put it lightly, he’s surprised you’ve even built up the courage to ask him, partially curious on why you’d go through this limbo in the first place.

Namjoon elbows Taehyung to signal him that maybe a little kindness won’t hurt. He’s particularly grew fond of you because with you around, his job’s significantly become less stressful, more lenient, and actually happier. Surely, granting you to have a visitor (even if it isn’t his house you’re talking about) wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Right?

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just that he’s banned from most places and-“

“Fuck it. Fine. Who’s your visitor?”

The both of you speak at the same time and your eyes widen at him granting your request even if it was only nudged (more like elbowed) out of him, the smile immediately reaching your eyes.

Namjoon is the only one who catches your words, eyes nervously flicking around as he squeaks to himself. “Whatdoyoumeanbannedfrommostplaces?!”

Neither of you pay attention to him because Taehyung only waits for your answer, snapping you out of your reverie to answer who’s coming over.

“Jungkook.”

He takes one, two seconds to process what you’ve just said, question marks floating above his head that it finally prompts you to expand further sensing the confusion in his face.

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“You expect me to know who Jeon Jungkook is?” Taehyung pinches his nosebridge at how you automatically assume he knows everyone whom you mention, the amusement behind it hitting him suddenly that he covers his mouth with his hand to pretend to be annoyed. “Whatever, just have him over and don’t ruin a single thing in my house.”

He goes up the stairs before his own giggles escape his lips, leaving you alone with a half-terrified, half-curious Namjoon.

“Is this Jungkook an angel?” he asks in a whisper, his thoughts flying faster than how his hands drum against his thigh because he can’t deny his trepidation.

The way your pupils flicker makes Namjoon nervous because normally you’re never unsure, a sound of pure shock emitting from his throat. “O-oh! He’s an angel… somewhat.”

Your vague answer had already reached Taehyung before the day even ended, pleasantly oblivious to the way he spends the night thinking on who exactly is your visitor and why the hell did he agree.

Nobody expected Jungkook to look this intimidating.

He’s intimidating both in his built and aura, the edge of charisma that he oozes feeling so unattainable that it puts both men in slight unease. They most certainly did not peg for the two of you to be friends (or even be acquainted in the first place) because you look gravely mismatched.

Jungkook looks around Taehyung’s house with a critical gaze and pursed lips, walking slowly with his arms across his chest that everybody looks at him.

Namjoon doesn’t know whether he should be wary with the way he’s acting or if he should ask for tips on how to make the entire room scared of him.

Taehyung surely knows that he feels offended with the way your visitor looks around, feeling threatened even if he doesn’t admit it out loud because only he should be able to walk around like this looking as if he’s in disgust, not this random guy.

“Eh. You could do better.”

Jungkook says to no one in particular and Taehyung scoffs under his breath, the snappy remark getting stuck in his throat the moment you respond to his loaded statement.

“This guy’s already assigned to me, I can’t do anything about it.”

“This guy?!” Taehyung mutters under his breath in disbelief on how you’re suddenly dragging him, eyes widening as he trails on your heels in anger until Namjoon drags him back, the latter wanting to watch from afar in doubled curiosity.

Jungkook comes up every now and then to ease himself from boredom, knowing that his visits to earth would be more entertaining now that you’re here. You’re easily an entertaining and calming being to be around with, knowing that you’re easily up there on the list of people he wouldn’t throw into a fire pit no matter what.

“I can do something about it,” he rasps his voice intentionally, a terrifying tingle run down the spines of both guys, but only Namjoon would have a fourth of his dignity to admit that his heart practically dropped down to his ass.

Jungkook plays around a lot and you laugh at his light-hearted joke, even if you wouldn’t put it past him that he’d actually take it into seriousness.

You thought that they (read: Taehyung) would leave you alone because just yesterday, not one bit of intrigue or excitement was expressed and yet here he is, desperately trailing behind you to even sit at the same table that you and Jungkook were sat on.

Scooby’s perched at your shoulder, eating from your palm. The bird placed on you is stupidly large and just too blue, his eyes apart that the whole caricature of him looks funny — it’s easily one of the most entertaining sights Jungkook’s ever seen in his lifetime.

“What a stupid bird.” Taehyung sighs, looking at Scooby who’s never been this clingy with him before.

“Stupid bird,” Jungkook snickers under his breath once he hears Taehyung utter them, thoroughly making sense. “He looks so funky,” he whispers to your ear, chuckling in absolute amusement.

Jungkook takes your hand away so it would be out of Scooby’s reach, but before he knows it, his wrist is slapped by a glaring Taehyung.

“That’s his food. Don’t play with it.”

The whole world seems to still with how neither one of you moves an inch. You could literally feel Jungkook grow warmer beside you that you have to put your hand on his thigh to calm him down.

“You’re messing with the literal devil, Taehyung,” you glare, scratching at your temple.

“Jungkook’s the devil?!” Namjoon whisper-yells from a distance, his hands flailing wildly before he takes his head into them.

“He was messing with his food!” Taehyung reasons to you but it falls on deaf ears, your eyes straight-out pleading to just cut it out and apologize.

“I was just poking at your stupid bird’s food!”

“Don’t talk about him that way.“

Taehyung may have called Scooby stupid just seconds ago, but that doesn’t mean anyone else could call his bird stupid.

“You literally-“

“Shut up.”

Taehyung seems keen in digging a deeper grave for himself, making you resort into calling him by his full name harshly, gaining his attention irritatedly.

“Jungkook can be even meaner than you are, Tae,” you grit through your teeth, “so please stop and just let him call Scooby stupid for once.”

“Hear that? I’m the meanest,” your friend backs up, smugly crossing his arms as he takes your words as a compliment.

“Oh please, I could be the devil if I wanted to,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I’m so mean that I could make Y/N cry right now.”

Before he could even process it, Jungkook smacks the back of Taehyung’s head so hard that he’s certain his brain shook for a second.

“I’ll make another circle of hell just for you.”

“I’m touched.”

“You wouldn’t be once-“

“Jungkook, look! Scooby’s being stupid again!” you exclaim as you convince the bird to bow politely, hoping it’d be enough to catch your friend’s short attention span.

His eyes return back to normal, an innocent hearty laugh leaving him as he looks at the ridiculously stupid bird you have on your shoulder.

“He looks so funky.”

( ♡ )

In your fifth month with Taehyung, you walk on him being the most peaceful he’s ever been.

His study’s been flipped upside down besides the one corner that he stands on, the one area devoid of clutter even if it’s where he does all his work in the canvas.

Pictures are stuck everywhere that serve as a semblance of inspiration for Taehyung, the multitude of trivial photographs and highlighted pages of poetry taking shape into familiarity.

Rarely do you linger around him when he’s at home and you know he’s safe, especially when he’s in his study, but you couldn’t help visiting considering he’s not once left the room for hours.

You know you’re being nosy when you look around the room, eyes landing on what seems to be a pamphlet.

“I know what you’re already thinking,” Taehyung hums, the first one to speak to you ever since you came into his space. He could sense from a mile away your urge of wanting to ease his burden, but this time he beats you to it first. “Don’t help me on this one.”

“You don’t need my help.”

You sincerely answer, making him raise his head in wonder. Rarely do you agree on things that concern both him and your purpose but this is a moment that you’ve come to cherish, no matter how brief.

“You’re already the best at this than whatever help I could offer.”

Taehyung thinks you’re sweet.

“Thanks,” he gently says, going back to what he was doing.

He doesn’t kick you out this time, not uttering a single word as he allows you to linger. You find it weird that he’s not in a hurry to shoo you out but you’re accustomed to it. You let yourself linger for just a few minutes while you watch in silence, shutting your door on the way out.

Maybe you’re not so bad to have around after all.

( ♡ )

Jimin thinks that if there’s hell in heaven, he’d be the first angel to occupy it.

“Seokjin.”

He addresses the older guy in front of him curtly, trying not to think how the both of them are wearing the same cream sweater unintentionally and how it irks him starting from the back of his neck, taking two deep breaths in reminder to never wear this sweater again.

“Ah ah ah, you’re reporting to me right now,” he tuts at Jimin, believing that if he squints his eyes just enough, he’d be able to glaze over the fact that wearing the same sweater as someone in the same room is downright embarrassing. “It’s Mr. Kim Seokjin.”

Additionally, Jimin thinks that if hell were to cram itself into a single structure, it would definitely manifest into the HR Headquarters. Of course in fitting fashion, in order for an individual to get into hell, they’d have to wait a minimum of a millennia to even step into the building.

“Of course,” he smiles with his teeth visible, putting his hands across his back. He bows his head slightly to Jin who’s sat on a chair across his standing figure. “I meant Seokjin, here’s the brief on Y/N’s time on earth.”

Ah, they’re just getting started.

Jimin starts his presentation but not even a minute into it that he gets interrupted, even if he hadn’t opened the floor for inquiries.

“How many months has she been with her human?”

“Six. If you may please look at the screen, you can see how that’s already stated.”

Jimin motions rigidly, his tone overly-polite that it sounded borderline threatening. He points to the presentation that he’s crammed on doing last night, having done it from scratch because there’s no ready-made templates so he made-do with the color scheme he found at a brownie mix packaging and a bunch of your pictures that he had to edit into the slides.

Did he need to impress Seokjin? Not really. Did he feel the urge to impress Seokjin in order to spite him because for some reason, they’ve just been bickering for the past decade over god knows what? Yes.

“Technically, Y/N and Taehyung are doing well,” Jimin starts off but even he sounds uncertain, earning a hum from Jin who doesn’t so convinced either.

“Non-technically, Y/N and Taehyung are not doing well.”

Jimin switches to the next slide of a picture he took of you crying as you both drank coffee atop a mountain on a whim. You were distinctly crying for two reasons: a) because you could finally confide to your mentor and you’re transitioning from mentor-mentee into friends, and b) because the night prior to your impromptu coffee date, Taehyung had told you to get lost quite strongly.

“Y/N had been given residence in his home and provided with everything she needs out of formality. Taehyung’s never been harmed with her around, and the statistics show that she’s a lot more effective than his existing bodyguard.”

Jin nods in understanding, although he can’t exactly tell where’s the part that tells you and your human aren’t doing well.

“The problem is that Taehyung hates her.”

“But he keeps her around…?” he furrows his brows in confusion because there’s absolutely no obligation in holding onto something you hate, the option of letting go purely being uninfluenced.

“I know — and that’s even worse. Y/N doesn’t want to abandon her post either because she loves Taehyung too much.”

Jin’s ears perk up at the l-word and as much as his gaze inquires, Jimin already opens up in a shy mumble of how he could be so ambitious of narrating. “Look, she’s my friend too, okay? I could tell what she feels.”

Meetings like these were necessary and happened every six months but bias aside, Jimin’s not too confident that there’d be a second meeting.

Jin’s not as close with you compared to how Jimin and Jungkook are, but he recalls having a few laughs with you every now and then. He’s well-ware that the department he works in is notorious for being extremely slow and occasionally bitchy, but in the numerous times that he’s seen you in line at the HR, you always throw him a smile.

He asks off-handedly and vaguely but the both of them know what he’s pertaining to anyway, both of their heads down in thought.

“Do you think it’s gonna happen?”

“I can’t necessarily predict,” Jimin admits, playing with the rings on his fingers. “But I’m just saying that it’s not impossible for Taehyung to do it.”

“I hope Y/N doesn’t get hurt,” Jin purses his lips in genuine concern, knowing that if he had to pick someone who he’d protect from falling, it would be you.

The silence that engulfs them is calm yet heavy, their lack of bickering remaining absent at the possibility that both their minds go to; your life at stake.

“I haven’t prayed in a long time,” Jimin looks down on his feet, a weighted sigh leaving his lips that sounds defeated by all accounts, “but for Y/N, I will.”

( ♡ )

In your seventh month with Taehyung, someone attempts to hurt him.

It’s already a given that with you around, Taehyung’s infinitely more guarded compared to only having Namjoon in tow. “He feels safer with you around,” the bodyguard says to you out of the blue when the two of you wait for him to finish getting ready.

He says it like someone had asked him what the time was and as casual as it seems, it means the absolute world to you. You’ve already known initially that Taehyung isn’t the most expressive human alive, showing his appreciation in whichever ways he deems appropriate.

He’s as expressive as he’s impulsive. Namjoon had bought him a burger one time because the food they were serving at a party happened to be everything Taehyung was allergic to, and by the next day, the bodyguard wakes up to a watchbox placed in front of his door.

He’s as soft as he’s vibrant. You’ve only had a few opportunities to see your human interact with his mother, but every time you catch sight of them, Tae almost always has his hand on her arm to keep her close to him.

Taehyung’s unpredictable, that much you find about him today.

You and Namjoon flank him at both sides at all times in public. The two of you aren’t his only security detail because he’s always had a hoarde of guards following him for big events (as per instruction by his mom), but two of you are the closest.

Things like these are already mundane for him no matter how extravagant they could be. He was due to make an appearance at an evening gala that accumulated a record-worthy number of sponsors — it’s just a Thursday for him.

Taehyung’s so used to these things that he doesn’t even hesitate to walk straight without batting an eyelash, his tunnel vision only going straight ahead to tune out the crowd forming around him. His attention’s only on himself that he fails to see the rising commotion. Not even ten steps into the venue, in a mix of people crowding him, someone at one point brought out a knife.

It happened too quick that the attempt was only belatedly registered the moment you intervened. You take the assailant by yourself whereas Namjoon took charge of removing Taehyung from the venue entirely, the other security details equally as jolted by the crowd that they all pile onto Taehyung, barely a silhouette now that he’s shrouded while walking away.

It was a frenzy that cancelled the gala altogether but none of it mattered because as Taehyung made headlines for having been attempted on, you bleed.

It’s a mystery to you on how the unfamiliar shade of red comes from your own skin. How did this even happen? All that you remember doing in the short span of seconds is you throwing his figure to the wall, a sight that ignited the commotion more. You do remember the pathetic excuse of a knife, dull and rusty, barely lodging into your side as the stranger yielded it blindly. What you don’t remember at all is the pain that comes with it, only a dull thrum of the hurt you aren’t used to.

You’re bleeding but none of it matters because it isn’t Taehyung who’s going through this pain — it’s you.

“You’re not supposed to be hurt,” Taehyung could only stare at your exposed skin, eyes nervously flitting to Namjoon’s hands every now and then to see if he’s hurting you. “Why are you bleeding then?”

No one’s ever tried to harm him this way nor has Namjoon ever been hurt to this extent.

Taehyung was panicked to realize that as soon as he was jammed back into his car, you’re the only one who’s been separated. Not one of his guards came to aid into you and it angers him beyond comprehension.

"You never bleed."

The realization sinks into him that not once have you bled the entire time you’ve been with him. No paper cuts, not even a single scratch from Scooby’s sharp claws whenever he perches on you. Not once did he see you hurt and it makes his stomach sink when he sees your eyes screw tightly, that even without a single sound, he could tell that you’re hurting.

“No, no. You're not supposed to,” he breathlessly laughs but there’s no humor in it whatsoever, his eyes pricking all of a sudden.

"Has this ever happened to you before?"

Namjoon’s hands tremble while he patches you up but from the severity of Taehyung’s question, even he stops in his actions. He doesn’t know what to hear but the moment you reply in a daze, he knows that it’s not the answer he wanted.

"No."

Taehyung notices the way the liveliness drain from your face, your suddenly quiet demeanor giving into his conclusion that you clearly knowing something about what’s happening to you.

"What does this mean?"

"Nothing," you answer a little too quickly, rolling your eyes as you nudge Namjoon to wrap up quickly. "It means angels can bleed too."

The only angel Taehyung knows is you; he knows almost nothing about them to begin with, but what he does know that you, out of all the people he knows within this earth and not, don’t deserve the pain that is meant for him.

"Do something about yourself," he mumbles, hanging his head down to try and soothe the vertigo he gets from seeing you hurt. "Go to a hospital. Call Jimin."

“Do whatever you need to do to make yourself better,” he says in his head, his eyes no longer being able to meet you.

You don’t know why he’s throwing such a big fuss that his bodyguard had already managed to fix. The pain is nothing to you but a dull ache and you’ve been hurt more than a mere graze could.

You don’t know why you grow angry at your human at his sudden display of concern for you, making you clench your jaw because you want him to stop worrying for himself instead — you aren’t worthy of his concern.

"Let go of it already, Taehyung."

"How am I supposed to let it go when my guardian angel's bleeding? How are you-" he snaps, making him hiss in realization that he’s raising his voice at you. “How are you supposed to protect me this way?"

Taehyung rarely asks you questions but among the handful he’s inquired, this was the most trivial, nonsensical, and pathetic question you’ve ever heard.

"I'll protect you even if I bleed."

( ♡ )

In your eighth month with Taehyung, he asks you a question out of nowhere.

"Why haven’t I ever seen your wings before?"

Taehyung’s attitude changed ever since you’ve bled.

When the incident had happened, you took the initiative in distancing yourself from him, barely just enough for you to protect him still. You would go through your motions of the day by accompanying him wherever and relieving any pain he’d feel, but you no longer lingered around him.

Whenever Taehyung ate out, you’d drag a fork against his meal and bring it up for you to smell if there was anything, and then could he eat. You’d do it still, but Taehyung would wait for a beat for you to play around and blow his food for him; sometimes intentionally eating slower to see if you’d put food from your plate into his.

He’s used to you having one hand on his elbow with the other arm outstretched when walking through a crowd, but what he looks for nowadays is your cold hand on his skin, having to steal another glance at you when he walks without your guidance.

He still bothers you occasionally at night to take him somewhere since Namjoon wouldn’t allow him, and you oblige wordlessly. Sometimes he makes you take him to places he doesn’t even want to (sometimes borderline sketchy) for the sake of testing out whether you’d make conversation with him if it’s only the two of you, but you don’t.

When you bled, you know what it meant. It wasn’t a definitive conclusion but you know that somewhere along the way, you’ve grown vulnerable. You’re not above pain anymore because you’ve shot underneath its threshold.

It’s said that when an angel bleeds, they’re nearing the worst point of pain in their lifetime.

"You can't see them?

You ask curiously to Taehyung who came out to join you in the patio by his own accord, his hands meekly tucked into his pockets. He nods no and you get what he’s pointing to, understandable that angels are known by their feathered appendages.

"Normally, you should see them whenever I have them out."

"Do you have them out right now?" his eyebrows furrow, tilting his head to gaze at the back of your shirt. He’s nervous to know if you’ve had them out the whole time and all along, he’s the only who couldn’t see them.

You chuckle at the panic on his face, sincerely answering. “No."

A silence that comes from you is a silence that always puts Taehyung at unease. He’s grown accustomed to your bubbliness that he no longer treats your words as white noise, learning to listen to you actively than in passing.

"When was the last time you had them out?"

“When I needed to prove myself to Namjoon.”

Eight months had passed by so quickly yet at the first six, it felt like an eternity to Taehyung. Lately, time had been passing for him too fast in the blink of an eye that he gets nervous whenever the night comes, the feeling of unease rising in his stomach for reasons he didn’t even know of.

“Describe what your wings look like, I'll try to picture it in my head."

The request, or rather the implication that he wanted to know what you look like flies over your head. Your wings are your own for formality’s sake ,but not once did you feather them out to look at them as an extension of yourself.

Your wings aren’t pretty.

Jimin’s wings are perhaps the prettiest pair that you’ve ever seen, the gentle hues yet the overwhelmingly beautiful structure of them being so fitting for himself that you can’t imagine them belonging to anyone else. You’ve seen a handful of wings in your lifetime — including Jungkook’s that are elegant and sophisticated in their own way.

The realization dawns on you that Taehyung’s asking to see a part of you that you don’t want to, and knowing him, perhaps the sheer underwhelm your wings bring is what would set him away further from you.

"Maybe some other time, Taehyung."

"But I want to-"

This time it’s you who leaves him, not sparing a single glance back at him.

"Some other time."

( ♡ )

In your ninth month with Taehyung, you learn that he has a girlfriend.

Crossing his heart, Namjoon promises you that Taehyung and Hyori are a fairly new couple. He knew her when he was just starting out as his bodyguard, pinning her to be a family friend. She’s a constant face in all the socialite functions that Taehyung’s been attending for as long as he can remember. And if you can remember correctly, you’ve already seen her numerous times.

In fact, you only learned of their relationship accidentally. They’ve fucked several times through the years (the bodyguard confirms) but it was only two weeks ago that they decided to try out an actual relationship. Namjoon swears up and down that he was meant to let you in on the secret this week, but you beat him to it when you knock on Taehyung’s study to see a woman slung around him.

Hyori looks like someone who’s been shaped by the gods themselves and you’d be the first angel to admit it. She could easily pass for divinity, and just by her looks, you wouldn’t blame Taehyung for falling for her.

But Hyori makes you uncomplacent.

She smiles charmingly but there’s just something about her that makes your skin crawl. Your hands are cold because you have the warmest heart but god does her warmth bother you to no end, making you hold your own breath around her.

There’s something about her that reminds you of bleeding even if the only thing she’s done is hug you politely, even her sweet scent reminding you of the metallic taste of red.

"I don't feel good about her, Tae."

Taehyung could only sigh at your paranoia, rolling his eyes at you because he’s in too much of a high to pay attention to your worries.

"Well isn't it a relief that what you feel about her has no significance nor bearing to me?"

( ♡ )

In your tenth month with Taehyung, you confide in Jungkook.

“I feel like she’s a devil. Like a literal devil.”

He came over again but this time with no prior notice. He was growing bored down under but despite his abrupt appearance, Taehyung couldn’t care less, already preoccupied with entertaining Hyori.

Jungkook follows your gaze as he pets Scooby on his shoulder, tilting his head in inspection before answering.

“Nah. Not one of us.”

Your friend denies your suspicions and oddly enough, this is the only time that you’ve been unsettled for someone not being a devil. Hyori is a force to be reckoned with, and a human at that, that frustrates you all the more because she just has to be the ultimate at everything.

“Not one of us! Not one of us!”

Jungkook immediately laughs at Scooby’s repetition, letting him preen on his ear piercings. “Smart bird! You’re not stupid anymore, are you?”

“It’s okay, it’s okay!”

He furrows his brows at the sudden change of words, realizing that Scooby isn’t looking at him anymore but to you instead, leading his gaze right to your blank one.

Jungkook could recognize that look anywhere, smiling to himself as he pats the back of your head.

“You’re jealous?” he tries asking, earning an offended scoff that just confirmed his assumption. “Looks like someone’s in love.”

“Give it a rest,” you sigh tiredly, stirring the coffee that Namjoon gave both to you and Jungkook with his hands trembling. He’s still certainly not used to Jungkook and how he did a party trick of rolling his eyes back to his skull just to tease the bodyguard. You feel tempted to ask Jungkook to put a tiny dancing flame on your palm, just for the sake of distracting yourself. “This isn’t my first time falling in love.”

“Trust me, I do know that,” he wiggles his brows and you know that you wouldn’t hear the end of it, “you haven’t given your first love a call these days?”

“Shut up.”

Your first love wasn’t a sensitive issue — in fact, you love talking about him because there’s nothing inherently bad about how you ended that you refuse to do so. You’d entertain his mention any other day besides now, because you know that Jungkook likes comparisons and consequently, getting into your head.

He doesn’t rasp his voice intentionally, only lowering it into a whisper but it only turns worse with what he says.

“If you ask me, Taehyung isn’t even half of who Yoongi is.”

“That’s because you’re his friend.”

Yoongi and Jungkook are the closest pair of friends you’ve ever met, so much so to the point that during the times you and Yoongi were still together, Jungkook would tag around in dates and even insist on sleeping between the two of you whenever you napped.

You knew Jungkook through Yoongi and despite being broken up with your first love, you don’t regret anything and anyone you’ve ever known through him.

Jungkook was never one to make his worries known but in the rare times that he did, one of it was of you and his closest friend breaking up. You remember him begging and praying that nothing changes between his dynamic with either of you, and it was safe to say that nothing did.

“Hey, I don’t just befriend any angel, y’know?” he’s not trying to get into your head this time around. He knows about his bias but he doesn’t you to take it lightly, deciding to spread all the cards out on the table first.

“If you ask me-“

“I’m not asking.”

“Don’t put all your harvests into one basket,” he blurts, tapping his fingers onto the table to get you to focus.

“Why?” your eyes squint at the analogy, unaware of how another made-up saying could possibly relate to you.

“Because that’s greed,” he cheekily smiles, dropping it immediately when he sees you aren’t joking around. “Fine, seven deadly sins aside, what I’m saying is,” he clears his throat, putting aside his desperation.

Sometimes, you think that it’s Jungkook in this universe that wants you to get back with Yoongi the most.

“Would you really rather give all your love to a human who doesn’t give it back, or would you rather take a few of your love instead and give it to someone who would?”

“Jungkook.”

He frowns at your stern tone, crossing his arms as he purses his lips.

“You’re falling and we both know it.”

Jungkook sees right through you and it’s something you can’t avoid, finding no use in even sheltering your gaze from his eyes that seem full of pity.

“Trust me, baby,” he sighs, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “It’s the only pain you can’t protect yourself from.”

( ♡ )

In your eleventh month with Taehyung, Hyori breaks up with him.

The two of them were going exceptionally well, almost to the point that she was over almost everyday in his study doing whatever they pleased.

The two of them went along perfectly which is why you couldn’t think of any tangible reason of why would they break up, immediately going to Taehyung to try and ease the pain in his heart you’re sure he must be feeling.

The moment you opened the door to the patio is the exact second that his head turns to you, instantly standing up from his seat and charging towards you that it made you back up into the living room altogether.

Taehyung’s mad, angrily crying with his finger pointed at you.

"She broke up with me because she thought you were my girlfriend!”

Your mouth dries at his words, pupils unfocusing at what he was insinuating. You’ve never done anything to come between them and in fact, you made a point in avoiding them whenever they were together. In reality, you even went against your judgement of trying to protect Taehyung because there was something about Hyori you can’t decipher, instead leaving them alone so he’d be pleased.

“But I didn’t-“ But I didn’t do anything.

Anything you do is what seems to set off Taehyung further, walking past you in a rage he couldn’t contain.

"Oh my god! Just disappear, won’t you?! I wouldn’t mind."

( ♡ )

AN OPEN LETTER TO KIM TAEHYUNG: Don’t do art. Stick to being a rich douchebag.

The headline on your phone glares at you.

Today was meant to be a special day, really. Jimin had taken the initiative to take care of the little celebration he and Seokjin had in mind because after all, today was your one year with Taehyung.

The two of them had put aside their banter for several weeks and came together to throw you a tiny shower of happiness that you deserve for all that you’ve endured. They planned their little speeches upon seeing you all until the filling of the cake they were going to surprise you with.

And then the omen came.

The rain was pouring even if they asked headquarters repeatedly if it would and they said no, since most of the activities of the day they planned revolved around sunshine.

Then they ignored the omen.

The moment morning rolls around and your eyes open, you see Jimin and Seokjin by the end of your bed, their smiles too big for your own good. Their energy was purely innocent and happy that you can’t help but mirror them, awed that they even remember what today was for.

The minute you go downstairs to introduce them to Taehyung — no one could be found downstairs, not even Namjoon who wakes up the earliest.

7:01

he didn’t tell you???

i thought you knew

we’re setting up for his exhibit

7:17

i forgot what today was im sorry :(

happy one year!

just come here!! tae’s in a good mood anyway

You’ve spent the day with Jimin and Seokjin instead even if they insisted that they wouldn’t mind at all if you join Taehyung instead, their conscience for you overpowering them to see you bummed.

It shouldn’t come a surprise to you at all that out of the two of you, you’re the only one who remembers the significance of your meeting a year ago. A year is nothing to your concept of time but it’s a year that you’ve lived and loved the most — it’s the same year that has passed and no matter how accomplished you feel, it’s on your end.

You don’t blame Taehyung for his indifference because nothing on your manual told you that he needed to change for you; it wasn’t a give or take relationship, per se. Your existence isn’t rooted on reciprocity but rather selflessness, your own destiny revolving around keeping a human safe.

It’s your day that’s supposed to be celebrated the most but in actuality, it’s the day you’d never forget because of how much you hate it.

The day hasn’t ended and you hate it the most with the way it’s been a year and still, in your own pathetic way, you’re the one who ends up relying on your human instead of the other way around.

Taehyung barely needs you and what you hate the most about it is how much you’ve endured throughout, even if he had told you time and time again that he wants nothing to do with you.

You would never receive the love you give and it drains you endlessly.

The commitment you had a year ago is tainted with the way that from this day alone, you’ve realized much more than you could ever have for the past three hundred and sixty-four.

Taehyung’s opening show was a disaster.

The exhibit itself wasn’t even publicized, his real name not even being used for the registration in the first place. Only his mother and Namjoon knew about him being a part of this exhibit; he was happy. He was on a high the whole night because as he lingered, dressed nothing like how he normally would with his face covered with a mask, people loved his craft.

People loved something of his that didn’t have his face nor name in it and it’s the sight that made him feel the most recognized he had been in a while. Namjoon had kept calling him over while pointing at his phone but Taehyung just laughs, mistaking his frantic actions for praise.

It’s only until Namjoon had forcibly plucked him outside of the gallery and shoved him into the front seat that Taehyung realizes what he was getting at, the bright screen of his bodyguard’s phone illuminating the dim interior of the car.

AN OPEN LETTER TO KIM TAEHYUNG: Don’t do art. Stick to being a rich douchebag.

His stomach churns at what he reads, trying to will his eyes into looking away but he just can’t stop scrolling, the lump in his throat growing by the second to the point it gets harder to breathe.

There’s pictures of him in his study, canvas upon canvas displayed the more he scrolls. Some where he’s holding the brush while looking at his work in passing, some where his face is seen while he looks at the camera, some actually videos of him painting and some of him shirtless while walking around his study.

Everything in the article is unmistakably him — there’s no way around it.

The article’s penned anonymously but he puts a name to each piece of media he’s ever seen, the urge to throw up rising from his throat.

Hyori.

Taehyung’s sick to his stomach just by thinking how evil the woman had been and how dumb he was for not questioning his intentions once. The high he felt just minutes ago feels like a fever dream in the new low that he drowns from, crying violently in the backseat while Namjoon drives ahead.

He’d been so blind and trusting that he gets angry at himself, pounding his head weakly because his thoughts are louder than what he could manage, humming to himself in a desperate attempt.

Taehyung refuses to even go inside his room, much less the house, because in every which way he goes, he’d pass by his study and he’d feel like imploding.

He lets himself become drenched in the patio because it hasn’t stopped raining and it’s the only sound loud enough to overpower his mind, heaving under the heavy droplets.

His thoughts only stop the minute the rain stops falling down on him on a circle, even if it continues pouring on everywhere else besides him.

Taehyung needs you.

The firs thing he does when he feels you sit next to him is embrace you, loud sobs wracking his ribs that it feels like he has no bones by the way he slacks over your figure, his heart hurting the heaviest.

“Please take the pain away.”

Taehyung pleads to you and you squeeze him tightly, carrying the pain he felt. You would’ve taken the burden out of his heart even if he didn’t ask you to. You keep taking the pain away from him and for a second, you felt you could no longer bear it with how substantial it is, but you don’t stop.

You don’t stop taking your human’s pain away until you feel him relax into your hold, a sigh of relief being released in solitude, resisting your own urge from whimpering outloud.

You realize that even if you’re the highest in the room, you’d never stop needing Taehyung and it would be your downfall.

Taehyung needs you in rainy days when his heart feels the heaviest.

Unlike you, Taehyung doesn’t need you when the snow is falling and everything set into place by the universe is content in their positions.

He doesn’t yearn for you when he isn’t hurt and put into inconveniences that only you could solve for him.

He doesn’t look for you when the sky above is heavy and the earth beneath is cold, because he has you to keep the universe in balance for him at all times.

Taehyung only wants you around when he needs you.

Your human’s relaxed to the point that he just gives in to his fatigue, his head laid on your shoulder with his eyes blinking slowly, ready to sleep at the next gust of wind that would lull him into a dream.

You look at him for what you think is the last time, thumb pressing into his cheek that it makes him open his eyes wider.

You kiss him.

You hold Taehyung by his face and kiss him fully for only a second too long, pulling away even before you run out of breath.

Taehyung isn’t shocked, but his eyes only blink lazily, a small smile on his lips as he shakes his head.

"Don't kiss me,” the small smile is still on his face and his voice is the most gentle you’ve ever heard. "You're kissing me because I'm sad.."

"I'm not,” you chuckle, pleasantly surprised at the way he isn’t flipping out at all. His head’s back to being perched on your shoulder, looking into the city below him while you continue. "I really just wanted to kiss you."

Neither of you are mad at each other. Whatever you’ve felt today before you saw each other remains only to yourself, the weight of each being relieved because it’s you who carries them both.

A year has already passed and this is only the first time that Taehyung lets you in completely, and the fault of it all is something you cannot trace. You don’t live as humans do but this is the most alive you have ever felt in your lifetime, feeling the need to explain why you’ve kissed him out of the blue.

“I kissed you because loving you is all I know."

Taehyung’s laugh erupts from his chest and it’s the warmest sound you’ve ever heard, the syrup of it spreading to your hands as this is the only time you’ve felt them to be warm.

"Then unlearn it, silly.”

His voice isn’t raised — it’s just calm. His features aren’t laced with anger and his eyes are calm without malice. Taehyung talks to you about your confession as if he’s talking about the weather, taking it casually and in a stride.

“You remind me of a stray cat, y’know?” he hums, patting your thigh. “I feed you once and you keep coming back to me.”

His head is turned away from you and he wants to keep it that way. His heart may be light but the only concern he’s been carrying the past year is the final weight that he wants to get rid of.

"I don't want you to be my guardian angel anymore."

The words don’t hurt you in the same way you thought they initially would, but you know the pain would settle in your bones sooner or later.

"Say that one more time."

Taehyung doesn’t know why you’re not going on your knees to make him take his words back but he figures that you’re just indulging him like you always do, complying obediently.

"I revoke you."

He connects all his misfortunes in his life, especially from the past year, directly to you and your involvement with him.

"One more."

You hum, patting his head for what seems to be the last time. Jimin and Seokjin stand from a distance unseen, but you refuse to look at them when you know you’d crumble immediately.

"I repulse you."

.

.

.

.

Taehyung wakes up to one less heartbeat in his house.

The moment he comes down the stairs and calls out to no one in particular, but no one (read: you) greets him, even if he could clearly see Namjoon’s figure standing by the middle of the living room —

You’re not there anymore.

The moment he comes down the stairs, he’s hit by the familiarity that this is exactly his house before you came along.

There should be houseplants hanging from the ceiling at the corner of the room but they’re nowhere to be found, not even a single trace of the holes the screws left behind.

There should be multiple ribbons tied to Scooby’s cage because you’ve once told them that it would serve as his room decor, but not one strand of the fabric could be seen on his cage.

There should be a quilt at your bed and a picture of him on your nightstand but they’re nowhere to be seen because the room that they open the door to, is the same room the house had before you moved in — an empty one.

“No, no, this can’t be happening,” Taehyung repeats under his breath, his breathing picking up at the lack of you and why there’s nothing in his home that suggests you were here.

He opens his phone and demands Namjoon for his but none of the pictures have you in it, the blank space in the middle of when the three of you would go out for walks staring right at Taehyung.

The tears prick at his eyes because even if he remembers what you look like, there’s nothing he owns that would make him see you.

“Ask the clouds to remember,” you’ve told him in passing. He wasn’t actively listening to you at the time but it appears in his head from the numerous times he’s racked it for any sign of you.

The sinking feeling he has on his chest weighs him down but he remains rooted, knowing that maybe if he gets hurt just enough, you would come to his side and relieve him of his pain.

"Not my Y/N, please. Please,” he prays to no one in particular, eyes screw shut while the skies remain gray. "I'm your human, remember?"

No one answers him and it’s a silence that makes his mind the noisiest, the overwhelming feeling of hurt raising to his throat that he looks around in paranoia, seeing if you were just playing tricks with him.

"You can't leave me — n-no, no! Not this way."

Taehyung thinks he’s seeing things because he sees shadows of you that he can’t reach out for, a whine bubbling at his throat when he looks at the sky. “Give me back my angel, please,” he asks endlessly, staring into the sky that floats above him.

He stares into the sky long enough that it makes him see white hot pain, but it doesn’t matter to him because his own hurt doesn’t bring you back.

Taehyung anticipates and anticipates your voice, apologizing to him for making him worried. He anticipates the way you’d pat his hair and beckon him to eat breakfast. When he closes his eyes at the count of three, you should be here. If he prays just hard enough, you would come back to him because the angel that he knows always would.

One.

Two.

Three.

Taehyung’s pain doubles in weight when he doesn’t see you even if he’s put his hands together and pleaded to the heavens. All he sees is Namjoon distraught trying to catch a flash of blue that flies out the patio even in the rain, settling onto the chair you always used to sit on.

Scooby is the last thing he wants to see at the moment, flicking at the air next to the stupid bird to get him to scram.

Scooby doesn’t even move an inch because he only tilts his head at Taehyung, his voice parroting the same sentence he’s been hearing from you for the past year.

“I love you, Taehyung!”

one of the most amazing things ive ever read and its not even the first part. stunning.

heartburn (2)

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 13k

glimpse: you thought jimin would’ve been relieved to break up with you in order to be with the woman that makes him happy; five years and an engagement ring, in exchange for late night conversations that make his cheeks hurt. you mean nothing to him anymore, that much you’re sure of — why would he be beside your hospital bed, crying out of his mind?

alternatively, jimin emotionally cheats on you while your wedding’s six months away, and the aftermath of it all hurts much worse.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

[ still a lot of angst, some wholesome moments, mentions of arrhythmia + brief hospitalization, fainting n nosebleeds, emotional constipation and baggage, majority of all the confrontations you’ve been asking for, reverse card (?), intense longing and yearning plus hurting that u can’t explain into words ]

notes: i am still in so much awe of all the love and feedback i’ve received from the first part + intermission. as i said before, this does come from somewhere and even if this is fiction, pls read with care bc this is on the heavier side <3 im very sorry yet honored to all da people who sent me an ask saying that the first part made them cry, so if u think that this is tOO much and you’re bawling with no breaks, pls take a breather!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :) this is most likely not the last installment, so even if i have plans in making another part, hearing it from u personally makes me even happier n motivated :D | series masterlist

Emergency, Emergency, Emergency. This is Alpha, Juliet, Kilo. Can you hear me, Tower?

Jungkook feels like his heart is being ripped open at the sight, at the anxiety that lives in his chest — at the sight on his left; at the sight of you. He's flew planes countless times before, that's a given. He's been in the company longer than you do and he's just met you practically three weeks earlier prior to this, but he can barely recall the shock he experienced when you're not that much older than him and you're fresh in the company, but you already became captain. You're his captain. He's sure it was a fluke at first because when he caught wind that there would be a new pilot joining the airline, he became excited at first because he was always hyped up that he'd get to mentor the next one that comes in through the cockpit. He's sure his surprise was justified. That the hate he had for you at first was justified. After all, who wouldn't be surprised when they hear that the newest hire's previous job was being a personal assistant? That even if she's racked up 1,500 hours of flight hours and has her ATPL, not to mention the fact that she stopped working as soon as the specific requirements were achieved, she's already a captain upon entry to the company? And then he was paired up with you, hand-picked actually, by the president of the airline. Jungkook thinks it's normal to be mad. It's normal to despise you because it seems like you hadn't worked as hard as him but everything got handed to you so easily that it desensitizes his efforts. He's worked his ass so hard to even be in this company; he's been in here longer than you were, he has more hours than you do, and he's clearly the hardworking one between you both — why does he have to work under you out of all people? He thinks it's more than normal to be mad when he hears that your dad's the president of the company. Of course, that explains why you have it so easy and much better than he does. Because obviously, you're your father's only child — of course you'd be favored. Of course you'd be spoiled. But now? Now that he sees you on his left, body limp and passed out, Jungkook realizes that he's never once thought if you wanted any of this. Never realized if you've ever asked to be in this position nor wanted this treatment in the first place. He trembles, actually. For all the past three weeks, he's been faking his warmth to you because he thinks it would benefit him. If he wants the promotion, he wouldn't want to be snarky nor have bad blood with the president's daughter. He takes his time to ask you, to half-ass his concern for you, to make it seem like he cares. And you respond to him nonetheless, but the appreciation you've showcased for him was never staged like how he did it. It makes sense in Jungkook's head now — the empty eyes and the vague answers, the lack of a picture underneath your hat, and the hint of a tan line on your ring finger; all of those he's tried to connect to a discarded calling card you used to keep on your wallet for good luck, right at the trash bin in the rest cabin. Prod. JIMIN in a monochromatic card that's worn out from time with how it's aged on the sides, preserved intact at the expanse of your wallet, a handwritten note at the back of it. My first business card!!! Thank you, I love you.

Jungkook feels like his heart is being ripped open at the sight at the sight of you, realizing that he's misjudged you all this time but it's only when you're not talking; unmoving at all.

Affirmative, Alpha, Juliet, Kilo. What’s your emergency?

Seokjin’s back straightens even more the moment he hears the panicked voice in his headphones, keeping his cool.

He's what, three months in to the job? The deepest concerns he had to attend to as a controller were either turbulence or air traffic at most, but besides that, he's never really heard an actual call for emergency, much less a young panicked voice at the other end.

My captain passed out. Her nose is bleeding. She’s leaning on my shoulder.

Jungkook breathes in deeply at the weight of your head on his shoulder, wiping at your nose with his finger for the blood not to trickle down his white uniform; to distract him from the fact that you've fainted and are unresponsive.

She’s incapacitated then. Suspected unconscious or dead?

He chokes at the last word because not once did he consider the possibility since it was a far shot. He knows the controller he's talking to is just doing routine and his job but he feels agape somewhat, leveling his breathing in long paces.

Unconscious. I can feel her pulse. It’s f-faint, but it’s there. One crew member is a registered nurse, checking on vitals. Passengers are unaware of the situation.

He immediately noticed you were out the moment he's only heard silence when he expected you to relay the weather conditions upon preparation for arrival, looking at you in anticipation because if you weren't going to, then he'd be the one to tell Tower.

But he knew it. Knew there was a silence that lacked one less dimension of audible breathing. Knew it when he saw you with your eyes closed that you weren't just sleepy since you'd never do it on the job. Knew it when he called your name softly instead of your title but instead of being replied to, all he notices is the blood that gathers on your philtrum.

What’s your name, Alpha, Juliet, Kilo?

Seokjin raises his hand to flag down his superior and within a minute his senior is by his side, listening in to the conversation with all his concern. All eyes were on him and yet the nervousness he feels isn't for himself, but rather for the wellbeing of the pilot that audibly sounds worried.

He asks his name to ground him; to somehow calm him with the semblance of his name. They all speak with code and their names are basically rendered unnecessary, but Seokjin thinks it's needed this time. He thinks it'd help the pilot on the other line not only because it's his job, but also because he'd hate for the roles to be reversed and not one person thinks outside of the protocol.

First Officer Jeon Jungkook.

He speaks with no hesitation but his eyes are wary all-over, his neck oftenly craning to his left.

You are now the acting Captain of Flight 917, Jungkook. Are you able to land your plane on your own?

The taste of the title on his tongue should be sweet but he finds it the complete opposite, knowing that it's only a reminder of how he's failed you somehow. He could've intervened when he saw you being sluggish during the pre-flight check, or could've even made you take a rest for awhile when he saw you holding onto the lavatory door for support when you were all greeting the incoming passengers on-board.

He should've seen the signs. Should've been a better co-pilot. Should've atleast coaxed you to take a nap as he continues to monitor to forego lunch time. Should've noticed you weren't okay.

Affirmative, Tower. 15 minutes until arrival.

Jungkook's done this countless times before. He could land a plane by himself, with or without a senior. He knows he'll do well, but he's devoid of the awareness if he'll do it well enough because you're not awake. You're not like the other captains — you're kind. You'll praise him yet tell him gently on how he could improve his control of the brakes. You'll encourage him to make the landing announcement instead of yourself. You'll tell him he did a good job, to take it easy, and that you'll see him tomorrow.

Make short approach to runway 19, cleared to land.

He has a semblance of hope that you'll be okay — you should be, right? He doesn't know the controller personally but he feels like he can ask him for a favor even if it should be a given, the sentiment more than enough to prove that he's concerned for you not as a co-worker or a junior, but as a dear friend.

Able. Prepare emergency services upon arrival, please. She’s my friend.

Seokjin smiles gently to himself, making notes to call emergency services himself and not pass it to anyone else.

Will do, Jungkook.

It's not protocol to console the pilot but he feels like he should do it nonetheless, even if mere words aren't included in his paycheck. The acting Captain's soft please was too vulnerable that when he thinks about it, a little empathy wouldn't hurt; a round of tiny reassurance wouldn't harm anyone.

Your captain will fare.

( ♡ )

Jimin doesn't know how to face Yoongi at all.

He hasn't come to work ever since you left — didn't send his friend one message at all because he figures that he already knows what happened. He was always the sharp and keen one between the two of them, in fact, maybe he's even anticipated the whole breakdown.

Yoongi knows, of course he does. The moment that you've stopped reading his messages at the speed of light as soon as sent them, and Jimin didn't come into work the next weekday without so much of a notice, he knows.

What he did was work by himself. Wrapped up Eunji's EP and never entertained her curious yet devious eyes why Jimin isn't coming into work anymore.

Son Eunji, as an artist, is undeniably talented and charismatic. Her work ethic remains amazing and so does her drive even if she's spent quite the time in the industry. She's grace and genuineness personified — as an artist.

Son Eunji as an individual however, is cunning. She knows her way around and knows her own cues without buffering. She's consistent, driven at the most. She knows what she wants and won't stop until she gets her way to it, still poised as she shoots her shot even with her heel outside the boundaries. Even if it's unethical, even if it's foul.

Yoongi admires artists but never idolizes them; always giving a space for deficit because he knows no one is inherently transparent. He admires Eunji as an artist but he knows Jimin idolizes her. He always did.

His heart dropped the moment it set into his instincts that Eunji seems off. That Jimin is either oblivious or knows exactly what he's doing. Something was off when Eunji didn't flinch at all when he told her that you were Jimin's wife with every ounce of seriousness in his tone. That something's off when he checked the cameras to see that Jimin let her in so he could eat dinner with her.

Yoongi's all the more surprised to see Jimin come into work today, clearly down compared to the days he used to come in here when he had you at home and had Eunji in the studio.

He came into work two days after the EP was finally wrapped up. He didn't need to tell Yoongi he broke whatever emotional dependency and intimacy and affair he had with her because somehow, Yoongi almost always knows.

“Is it worth it? Is she worth it?”

He speaks thickly into the air when he realizes that Jimin just came into his studio to linger there, to just be with him and possibly talk to him (even if he didn't know what to say), instead of working.

Jimin didn't expect his friend to break the silence but he indulges in the venom on his voice nonetheless because he deserves it, one of the pinning questions in his mind stumbling from his lips in a shameful whisper.

“If you knew, why didn’t you stop me? Scold me, even.”

Yoongi stops. He actually stops doing the tracking beats he's been working and trying to perfect restlessly in favor of scoffing at Jimin, turning his body fully to seethe at him.

“And say what? That it’s only because I called you out that you stopped cheating on Y/N?” he's disappointed him and he has no ounce of mercy in trying to cover it up in favor of appeasing him. He doesn't tolerate Jimin and he will take sides, no matter what that means for their friendship. “What I did is tell Y/N what I saw, not what I assumed. I’m honest, Jimin.”

His friend in question pales as he desperately shakes his head no, eager to correct the assumptions plaguing Yoongi's mind.

“I didn’t — I-I didn’t sleep with her.”

He knows that.

Of course he knows that.

Yoongi may be blunt but he thinks Jimin's pathetic. He's still his friend but he thinks he's outright pathetic. He knows he's in a state of remorse and regret but he doesn't feel as much pity for him as he does for you, a clear show of his morals he always tries to keep in check.

“You don’t need your dick inside anyone for it to be considered cheating, dumbass.”

( ♡ )

Taehyung doesn't hire a personal assistant after you.

He doesn't hire one even if you've made him promise that he'd choose one from the handful of resumes you've hand-picked specifically for him. "They're much more skilled than me too, Mr. Kim. This would be great for you!" you've said to him excitedly, but that's just you.

That's your opinion. That's not his.

Two years ago he was lost beyond refuge. An entire company's waiting for him even if he didn't ask for it. It was shoved into his responsibilities and despite his name that people knew even if he's only stepped into the company floors once, as a child, one that had no idea he'd be named the CEO of several years later despite not wanting it at all — he was scared.

He was scared even if people did nothing besides looking up at him.

He was gonna start on a Monday and he hired you at a Sunday.

The whole meeting itself was impromptu. His dad's secretary gave him a whole box of resumes of aspiring personal assistants that bore such honorable degrees — all of those accolades, and yet they wanted to work for him. Him who barely knows anything about the whole marketing industry within itself outside of the spoon-fed and compulsory business degree his dad made him take, and yet these people wanted to work for him specifically.

He exhausted his own eyes reading sheet after sheet and he comes across to the last one on the bottom of the pile, his eyes skimming in surprise at your degree and he doesn't wonder why yours was at the very bottom. An off-chance. Perhaps an accident that was only mixed up in there but his eyes linger on your sheet the longest even if it wasn't even as lengthy nor decorated as the ones before you.

He meets you at a coffee shop on a Sunday, and the both of you start your first days on a Monday.

Taehyung is scared beyond his own relief and so were you, even though you'd never admit that you were terrified to know that you're perhaps the only one on the floor and the entire company with an unrelated degree and its accompanying experiences.

Taehyung was scared, but he was scared with you.

The both of you learned and grew together in spaces that were never built to house the two of you in the first place. It was terrifying and vulnerable to be in such esteemed positions that people would quite literally spend their whole life trying to gun for, but it was less terrifying and vulnerable with each other.

With you resigning from your position, Taehyung feels scared and anxious all over again.

The most he did was to assign two interns to the job that only belonged to you; one to take care of the calls, one to take care of his schedule.

He debates on texting you every now and then because ever since you've resigned, you haven't reached out even once. He's hesitant to do so because he thinks it'd be unprofessional, but after all, you're not working for him anymore and therefore it negates all crossed lines. The only link he has with you is your fiancé's wedding suit made by his personal tailor, but even that he's not sure of.

Could it be that you resigned because of your fiancé? Was it the pay? Was he not paying you enough that it made you quit?

Taehyung has to personally shake away all his thoughts because he figures that it's wrong to still dwell on your departure. It was your decision and the least that he could do is respect it. He knows he's not in any position to worry about you, but he knows you worry for him.

You worry for him when you see him fidget when he has a meeting with much older people that bear significant position within their own companies, the lines on their face telling him that it's their life's purpose to be the frontrunner of their business.

You worry for him when he types in emails that require great detail and attention and he triple-checks them for great measure, even beckoning you over to come take a look.

You worry for him when has to look over HR's reports of who's lacking and therefore needs to be fired because it seems like they're underqualified, and yet it's him who's sitting on the comfiest and most expensive chair in this building with his plaque that oversees papers explaining who's incompetent.

He worries for you too.

"Would this be Mr. Kim Taehyung? Of Kim Group of Companies? Would you happen to be related to someone in the name of-"

Taehyung hears nothing but ringing in his ears.

At first, he doesn't even know why the unknown caller's obtained his number in the first place, and his personal one at that. He thinks it must be someone he's blocked before (he has more than several) and it's just a new number that's calling him.

By the second sentence, his eyebrows furrow. He assumes it must be urgent somehow, and if it really was then it should be coming from his dad or atleast his secretary. Besides that, his number is never up for grabs for any of the other employees besides one. If someone wanted to know that you were working for him and his company, the HR's telephone lines would be provided.

By not even halfway through the first sentence, he realizes it's you.

It's from the hospital and it's about you.

He can't even begin to think that the reason he was called in the first place was because it's his calling card that it's in your pocket, linked to you directly. Your airline ID card was on you but it could only be traced back to you and your company in the event that it was lost, therefore doing nothing for them.

The hospital staff saw a picture folded in between your notes of money, but at a quick glimpse at you when you were wheeled in, the family of four on the fading photo doesn't include you at all.

They're mere faces; faces they can't trace, faces that they can't link back to you.

Taehyung listens attentively as he gathers his things and makes quick note to tell his makeshift assistants that he'd be gone much earlier or for as long as necessary, barely blinking as he listens to the speaker on the other line.

"O-oh. I'm sorry, sir. I did a quick search and it seems to be that you're the CEO of your company back there, correct? I'm afraid that Miss Y/N is in Jeju. Would you happen to know any of her relatives that I can call instead?"

Taehyung barely blinks at the fact that in order to get to you, he'd have to take an airplane. He's been given a brief explanation of your condition and what he's absorbed is that you're hurt, in a different place altogether, with no one.

"I'll see what I can do to check on her family and friends," he fidgets while he almost dashes to his car, thinking of the fastest route to get to the hangar that's a product of wealth he's somehow always been uncomfortable with, but now he's conveniently thankful for as he thinks about a certain private jet he doesn't have to check in baggage for nor queue lines with.

"It's okay, getting to her won't be a problem to me."

( ♡ )

Taehyung feels pity for you before he feels awe.

He feels pity for you at the base of his chest because the first person you'd wake up to wouldn't be your fiancé or family or anyone you'd want to be with the most in a hospital that lacks a sense of home — no, you'd wake up to him.

He's only connected to you as a formal boss; someone important enough to be in your wallet but not probably important enough to be considered as your first contact in a time of emergency such as this.

And then he feels awe.

He feels awe because such an unprecedented and terrifying thing happened to you mid-air but here you are, looking a little more vulnerable than how you used to in a hospital bed with sheets that aren't familiar like how they are in clinics back home, and yet the first thing you do when you wake up is gasp at his presence, the shock of seeing him dissipating into a warm smile.

"Taehyung? What are you doing here?"

You sound genuinely curious and surprised, no underlying malice beneath it. After all, who wouldn't be surprised to see your former boss as the first person beside you in this specific circumstance?

"Because you forgot to throw the trash in your wallet, that's what," he chuckles as he waits to see everything sink into your mind of how he ended up here, his face turning confused on how you unconsciously pout at him.

"But your calling card's my lucky charm," you tilt your head and jolt in place anyway when the curtain gets swept away, mumbling the rest of your words when you turn to greet the attending doctor to you. "I'm sorry that you had to be dragged into this, Mr. Kim."

He slacks at the return of the professional title, scratching the back of his ear because his wording and tone definitely could've used some more work if he just chose to focus on how relieved you looked having someone with you.

"It's Taehyung," he sighs as he nudges your elbow with his knuckle intentionally, looking away sheepishly as an attempt to apologize for sounding so dismissive of you, "and I'm here because I wanted to be here for you anyways."

You feel awe for Taehyung before you feel pity.

You're awed at how he's even here in the first place, the only context you had in mind being his calling card placed in your wallet and someone must've called him for you, but as straightforward as it sounded, it could've been all that you needed to know.

You know it's the time Taehyung would be leaving the office judging from the peek you took at your doctor's watch and it makes you think how if Taehyung's here, right now, he left the office during work hours — he left the city during work hours in favor of coming down here to be with you.

And then you feel pity.

You feel pity because he's still dressed in his expensive suit and you're reminded at the lengths your boss would go for you, the realization dawning in you that perhaps you're not exactly alone.

You pity yourself because you landed up here, with your former boss classifying as an emergency contact because there's no one else.

"Should I call your fiancé?"

"Yeah I'm — what? Hm?" you're preoccupied with answering questions from your nurse and tending to Taehyung at the same time that that you don't notice how he's angling towards your bag, having waited for you to wake up because as much as he felt compelled to ask for permission to call your family or better yet him, the guy whose name is Jimin whom he assumes is your lover for the numerous times he's seen the name in both your personal and work phones.

He's barely heard your confirmation (which really wasn't for him in the first place) before he rummages through your bag, already knowing his way around. He knows where you keep the gummies he munches on in between snack rides. Knows exactly where's your powerbank that became his overtime because he didn't want to lug around a brick. He's aware of which nook of your bag your phone's placed in and even knows the password, having played games and watched shows there before when he didn't want to open his own phone because of the notifications he gets.

Taehyung doesn't know why Jimin isn't visible throughout your recent notifications but it appears soon enough when he searches for him in your contacts, tapping to call the number without hesitation — he's even surprised when it gets answered at the first ring.

"Hello? Would this be Y/N’s fiancé?"

Your ears immediately prick that it makes you whip your head around and call for him sharply, slightly startling the nurse who's drawing your blood.

Taehyung immediately stops talking as he looks at you with a wide mouth, never having heard such a venomous tone from you. He even pulls away the phone from his ear, tuning out the voice from his hearing that he's unaware is already frantically calling out to him.

"We’re not together anymore."

It takes one solid second for Taehyung to understand and he immediately drops the call and practically your phone as if merely holding it burned him, mouth closing in distaste.

He apologizes at the miscommunication and how he's become a little too overbearing to you a little too quickly, being dismissed quickly with a smile that told him you understood — after all, it wasn't his fault. How would have he known if you've never even told him a single thing prior?

Jimin whines at his phone as if raising his voice to it wasn't enough. He's only heard incoherent mumbles before it was dropped so violently, swearing that he could've heard the sharp tap of the thumb ending the call.

Yoongi only looks at him blankly, only the least bit concerned about Jimin's state when he heard your name in the beginning because he mumbled it underneath his breath.

He only looks but he catches Jimin's gaze anyway, frantically shaking his head even if he wasn't interrogated about what happened in the first place.

"No, no. someone called me," he swallows, tapping the number again but it couldn't be reached this time. "The number's not accepting calls from me anymore but the guy said Y/N's name. He asked me if I was her fiancé and-"

He couldn't believe it at all. Jimin's been trying to reach you for weeks and this is the only time he's ever saw your number again, believing for a second that he was restricted during the time. Why was it your number but not your voice? Why would someone ask him a question such as that, especially coming from your number?

"It could just be a harmless prank," Yoongi scoffs because even he doesn't believe it, crossing his arms when even he knows too that a mention of the f-word such as that isn't harmless. "Y/N never said anything to anyone. No one knows that you're engaged."

It was true anyway. The only logical thinking behind the whole action of calling Jimin from your phone but from a different person altogether would be too far-fetched that it seemed comical.

Yoongi types a little too harshly on his keyboard.

"No one knows Y/N."

Jimin's on the verge of pulling his hair and his friend's words do little to even try and soothe the panic he feels in his stomach, the column of his neck burning.

"Maybe her phone got stolen. It's probably a pap wanting to dig dirt on you by mentioning her name at the same sentence as fiancé. Didn't even call you by your first name. He just wants to hear your voice, it's recognizable," he pokes his tongue to his cheek, snorting at how it's likely but Jimin still chooses to believe that someway somehow, you'd be the one to willingly reach out to him.

"Don't be delusional, Jimin."

And he tries. He tries not to.

He tries not to be delusional when he sits at the secluded smoking area for the sake of being alone, the lingering smell of cigarettes reminding him of the faint scent of it on his dad.

Tries not to be delusional that at the same time his dad crosses his thoughts, it's his number that appears on his phone. Apparently he's been calling him three times in a row and this is the only time he's noticed his phone was ringing incessantly in the first place.

He picks it up, was originally about to apologize for not getting to it sooner, but now Jimin just feels sick to his stomach.

His dad's always been a hit with the kids. Has always been a good friend and father figure to many which is one of the main reasons why he has so much godchildren, ranging from ages that are older than Jimin and even younger than Soomin.

One of his godsons are Kim Namjoon — the nice, tall older friend that Jimin used to play with consistently when he was a kid, but stopped being friends with after him and his family moved to Jeju.

Namjoon really doesn't want to meddle in his patients' businesses if it's not necessary but when he does his rounds in the emergency room for those who are just waiting to be placed in a room, and he sees you, he thinks it's necessary.

He hasn't met you before but he definitely knows you. He's seen you in countless photos in social media that his godparents are still trying to work their way around with, your name being tagged so oftenly.

He's confused to why you're here despite having seen your airline ID and uniform and even the rundown of what happened to you, you're only with this well-off looking guy that's been brooding ever since he got here.

Jimin isn't here. His family isn't here. You're here with a guy he hasn't seen before.

Namjoon doesn't know what type of moral compass he should let prevail at this moment in time while you, the rich guy, him, and his nurse are all within the curtain — but he calls his godfather nonetheless.

Jimin could only take so much all at once, his mouth drying to have heard your name linked in anything but positive news.

"She's... s-she's in the hospital?"

( ♡ )

You fall asleep after the multiple tests Dr. Kim made you undergo.

By the time you wake up, baby blue curtains don't greet you because it's instead a wide expanse of a room with much better lighting and a view that does, realizing it was already night and you weren't in the emergency room anymore.

Instead, you're in the private VIP hospital suite, and you didn't remember deciding on this room or any room at all for the matter.

"Did you get me transferred here?"

You speak particularly to no one right in front of you but it summons Taehyung anyway, coming from the large partition between your bed and what you assumed to be is the seating area that rightfully comes with this of an expensive-looking suite (this is in fact one of the only three rooms they have in the hospital), a smile on his face.

The meek upturn of his lips tells you enough, attempting to crouch just far enough to get your bag from the table next to you before he could even stop you.

"Charge it on me please," you make quick work of outstretching your card from in-between your fingers to Taehyung, a light-hearted chuckle leaving you when you notice his look of hesitance. "Don't worry. I can afford it now."

Taehyung looks for one, two seconds before he bursts out laughing, shaking you off as he pulls up a chair with cushions this time, sinking into them comfortably as he didn't even flinch when he swiped his card awhile ago for your room's amount that didn't even make a single dent to his account.

"Nah. Just consider this as an ex-employee benefit," he yawns, abandoning his suit jacket awhile ago to be in his white dress shirt that he's already untucked, taking solace on how someone's gonna be here the next morning to bring him his change of clothes and the extra things either he or you would need. "You didn't even take a sick leave anyway when you were working for me."

"You're not gonna go back home?"

You could only hope that he'd tell you he would go home because that would help alleviate your guilt of how he already far and beyond for you, yet you can't deny either that having company for the night would be something you wouldn't oppose.

"It's okay. You need a guardian anyway."

He chuckles when he sees your eyes narrow, reminding him of the times you'd deadpan at him when you walk on him playing Overwatch instead of tending to his job.

"I'm an adult."

"I know."

You know it's a lost cause to argue with Taehyung anyway but atleast you know now that you took your chances, tilting your body to lay more comfortably on your side when you think about a crucial detail. "Do you have anywhere to sleep in?"

"VIP room, I told you," he reminds, awed instead of pitying when he thinks about how you're worrying for him despite the state you're in. "There's a pull-out couch and I can ask the front desk for blankets and pillows."

If anyone told you what would be happening to you on this day alone, you wouldn't have been surprised with how it all seemed untimely and incoherent.

But if anyone told you that despite all the pacing of the past few weeks, or this day alone, that even for a night you wouldn't be alone because someone's there for you, Taehyung is, you would've thanked them for the bout of safety they've just allowed you to bask in.

You feel the urge to tell him the truth. You don't want him to carry your burden but for once, you want to feel like you have someone to share it with. The people you'd normally share it with aren't with you. They're your past. A reminder of your past and your dreaded present, knowing it'd be heavier to contain everything in.

You're not alone.

You shouldn't be alone.

Yoongi made you feel you weren't alone when even up to this morning, because that was the last time you've checked your phone, he checks in on you and tells you about things he think would lessen the pain your heart.

He did it when he didn't want to feel complicit for all the things he's seen and the instincts he's been through, taking the risk of being ashamed in the event that he gets proven wrong (he wasn't) than not telling you at all.

Taehyung makes you feel that you aren't alone by the time you tell him the breakdown of everything that's been going on in your life, details that didn't used to be privy to him because of the state of your professional relationship now being open.

He does it when he looks at you but this time it's without the pity. It's without the concern that's born out of not knowing what was going on. It's without the apologetic eyes of how he should've cared for you as a personal assistant as much as you did when he was your boss.

It's the warmth.

"Do you have anyone to pat your head for you?"

"What?" the question naturally catches you off-guard, shaking your head no as soon as you realize what he was asking. "I — no. I don't."

His question isn't something to dwell on for any longer because he hums with no critique in his eyes, making you blink twice for clarity.

"Okay," Taehyung says softly, tucking his left hand to the pocket of his slacks as he reaches out his right, gently placing it on the top of your hair.

"I'll pat your head for you."

( ♡ )

By the time Jimin learned you were in the hospital, the nearest flight he was able to book was the earliest flight the next day.

By the time he was boarding the plane, he bumps into his own family, only to know that they've booked the same flight unknowingly, only a couple of rows apart from each other.

Neither of them speak to each other. They don't ask each other why they're here in a plane bound to Jeju at the crack of dawn and their responsibilities abandoned.

Jimin didn't have to tell Yoongi he wasn't gonna be working for some days. His dad gave the neighbors a week's supply of cat food in case Miso comes looking for them. His mom cancelled on her once-a-year friend outing. Soomin made an excuse letter complete with a fake doctor's note to excuse herself from her classes for atleast the rest of the week.

None of them question each other. The four of them know anyway why they're here and who they're here for.

The concept of planes itself bring a chill on Jimin's spine as his eyes keep flickering on the cockpit every now and then, just hoping by a miniscule thread that all of this must be some sick joke and you've been comandeering the aircraft the entire time.

He pretends he doesn't hear it at all when this guy comes out of the cockpit and speaks into the intercom, the title of First Officer Jeon or something like that slipping his ears easily because it isn't as significant as your name.

Now that he thinks about it, Jimin hasn't seen you with his own two eyes working as a pilot — not even once. He knows he hasn't seen you in your uniform because of the exact reasons you've told him but here he is anyway; endlessly worrying but feeling pathetic nonetheless because he feels like he doesn't have a right to.

Jimin feels pathetic and he know he's selfish.

He's pathetic and selfish when he barely waits for his family who's moving as quick as him and almost shut the door on his sister when he hailed a cab that could get him to the hospital the fastest.

He's pathetic and selfish when he lets himself cry as the gravity of your situation dawns on him because you must've been so alone and vulnerable, unknowing either if his presence would've made it better but he thinks other wise.

He's pathetic and selfish when he bursts through doors and without conscience, tell the front desk that you're his fiancée and he needs to see you immediately, oblivious to how his anxious family behind him is added to the equation because none of them needed to act the role of being worried for you.

You're unaware of the turmoil brewing behind your door because Taehyung distracts you from the anxiousness towards your upcoming test results all the same, the bickering being light-hearted that it eases you immensely.

You're unaware of what happens to your heart the moment the door to your room is opened in blind panic, registering the confusion in Taehyung's face before you could recognize what's gotten him so shocked.

Jimin, most of all, feels pathetic and selfish when you look at him as if you're terrified — intimidated, blank, and unlike yourself when you take into sight the entourage of the all too familiar people behind him.

"I thought you left me for good."

You could only see a flash of hair before you feel someone at your side, embracing you for all of dear life and it's when the familiar fragrance of a house, not a home, guts you in the abdomen just as quick.

"Soo-?" you swallow the lump in your throat because she feels all too solid and all too real, your trembling hands above her skin being the one to remind you that she's exists. "Why are you here?"

"Jesus, are you okay, dearie? How are you?"

The scent of a particular house hits you from the other side of your bed, eyes unconsciously whipping to greet the eyes of the man that's looking at you with utmost concern.

"Mr. Park," you tremble in your words but he's the one who recoils at the unfamiliar endearment or if you could even call it one at that point, eyes unblinking as you try your best not to let your tears prick. "I-I'm in Jeju. We're in Jeju. How did you-"

"I'm sorry we couldn't have come sooner."

The maternal scent of the house takes you off-guard when she almost crushes you, embracing you with all her might just like how Soomin did but this time, it's desperation twofold.

You're overwhelmed and it makes you want to cry. Your VIP room is large enough to host a party of 20 and yet you feel suffocated, abruptly straightening your posture on your bed that rings the bells in their head.

"I'm Taehyung."

The deep familiar voice reminds you of your friend's presence and your chest deflates in relief, seeing him make himself known and visible to the room, shooting you a look of understanding.

“Kim Taehyung. Y/N’s old... boss," he clears his throat, a little crowded but not bowing nonetheless to the unclear gazes they give him. "I’m Y/N’s friend.”

None out of the four of them speak but it's broken as soon as Mr. Park pulls him into a hug, sighing in relief at the appearance of the tall and well-dressed man before them.

"Thank you so much for taking care of our daughter."

Your tears prick even more painfully and the tick of your jaw remind Taehyung why he even spoke up in the first place, maximizing the time that their attention was on him.

"I-I think it would be best if we all let Y/N breathe on her own right now. She looks a little overwhelmed," he lays it on as gently as possible and even attempts to deflect their realizing but concerned glances away from you.

"Right, right. He's right, honey," Mrs. Park agrees almost immediately as she reaches her hand out to Soomin, her other hand empty in the realization that Jimin's still rooted at the door.

They all know clear and well that Soomin wants to disagree with Taehyung, wanting to stay by your side.

Jimin's still frozen. His own eyes are pricking and they never left you, not even once throughout the whole time he's opened the door, but he feels like he can't see you at all.

He doesn't know if he can see you because he's unsure if this is even you at all.

"I'm sure your son knows when Y/N's overwhelmed."

Taehyung cuts the silence by speaking thickly into the air, a hint of a dare to his tone as he sets his eye on Jimin who takes the millisecond to spare him a look that's nothing but poisonous, clenching his jaw as he looks down on his shoes.

Who does this guy think he is? His features now appear in his mind that they did indeed belong to your former boss, the belated anger he had for him reforming again as he's the reason why you've made countless sessions of overtime. Of how he's worked you to the core and are probably a contributing reason why you ended up here anyway, despite switching jobs.

"Let's sit outside for awhile."

Jimin speaks and his family complies to follow him with no issue, leaving you alone with Taehyung once again.

You don't have the slightest clue of how they're here — of how Jimin's here.

Of why they'd even come all this way for you.

Of why he looks like he's devastated beyond repair as he's flown out to be with you and left his responsibilities, when he's proved to you once that you weren't enough for him to even stay.

( ♡ )

There has never been a more infuriating guy to Jimin than Taehyung who sticks to him like honey, shadowing him from behind with every move he does until it becomes overbearing.

He's annoyed that Taehyung tailed him all the way to the waiting area and sat himself at the other end of the row of armchairs. Angry at how he even thinks this guy has the right to act like the bigger person between the two of them; as if he knows something that he doesn't.

“Did you know Y/N’s a workaholic?”

The suddenness of the question isn't what made Jimin cough, but rather it's to how Taehyung even thought asking him would make him prove an unnecessary point or somewhat.

Who gave Taehyung the right to have his nose in your business that he isn't even involved in?

“Of course I do, she’s my fiancée. I know her like the back of my hand.”

Taehyung looks at the guy who was your lover of five years and he could see why you would love him, basing on the words you've uttered to him last night of how you've never loved anyone else like you love Jimin; a power so true that it's unknown.

But the more Taehyung thinks within the span of a second, he could see even clearly why Jimin, despite loving you beyond belief, has also hurt you unlike no other.

So he scoffs. He genuinely scoffs at the way the guy at his right sounds so adamant.

“She’s not.”

The sight of the two of them on both ends of the row is something to behold. It's ironic to anyone who knows anything beyond the level of superficiality.

The way they sit is different. Taehyung stands proud as if he has everything underneath his pocket but Jimin's hunched over, cold and calculating as he looks like he's weighing the world on his back.

It's on the difference of their outfits and their state. Taehyung’s been here earlier, longer, but he looks tidy and well-rested. Jimin’s just shortly arrived but he’s messier, more disturbed. He's unkempt.

"You don't even know what happened to Y/N that made her land up here."

"I don't know yet," Jimin bites back but the guy barely flinches, leaning to the cool metal more as he looks at him lazily.

"Don't you think you're being unfair by bringing your family with you?"

"Don't talk about them," he grits because the fucker's clearly crossing a line that he's not even familiar with, completely sure that no one would ever truly understand just how much is shared between you. "They came here to see Y/N for her sake because they care for her. They didn't come here in behalf of mine."

He's so angry that he only sees white, seething with every word.

"Don't talk as if you know Y/N," he rolls his eyes. No one knows about you as much as he does and the fact Taehyung seems so mighty is what pisses him off. "You're nothing to her."

"I'm her friend," Taehyung sing-songs, tilting his head forward to Jimin. "And you are?"

Jimin clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he humorlessly laughs, shaking his head in disbelief at the absolute gall and ego this asshat had on himself, fists clenching in attempt to calm himself.

"Did you know Y/N's a workaholic?"

Taehyung repeats, but this time he's met with no reply.

"Because I do. She takes up overtime practically everyday."

Jimin doesn't know at all where he's leading with this but he chooses not to speak, knowing that the moment he opens his mouth, he would immediately lose the diminishing amounts of self-control he could only muster to have for so long.

"I know it because she asked me about the suits I wear and she wanted to buy one for you," he picks at his cuticles, the pity he has rising up to his throat like bile. "Wanted to save up enough to buy you an expensive suit for you to wear at your wedding."

Jimin freezes and he doesn't even care if Taehyung finds him out like that. He's unmoving and he remains that way as the lump in his throat grows in size, lodging a singularity that even if he tries clawing at it, it would do nothing for the shortness of breath that he feels.

"My tailor sent the rough cut with your measurements to my address. Have you been home enough to realize that one of your suits is missing from your closet?" he doesn't relent, remembering the text he's gotten just last week but decided against on forwarding to you because he wasn't sure if you would reply to him. "I didn't tell Y/N because she probably wants nothing to do it with anymore."

He didn't tell you because he felt something was off.

Didn't tell you because he didn't know enough back then, but now that he knows, Taehyung's ever so sure that the bundle of fabric wouldn't ever reach the designated owner.

"Your suit doesn't fit me."

"It doesn't fit you because it's not meant for you."

"Oh, I know that."

Taehyung twirls his silk handkerchief with his finger, looking at your lover straight-on without quivering, no matter the misplaced anxiety he feels.

"I'm just saying that your wedding suit makes a nice pair of pajamas for me."

( ♡ )

Something bad always happens on Soomin's birth month, or even the day of.

It's something she's shared to you one night, on the day that you came over to spend time with her and Jimin's family but you were oblivious to the fact that she and Mrs. Park had a big fight the night before.

It just happens, she explains. It's her personal string of bad luck that makes her dread for her birth month to even come, much more anticipate her actual birthday if not for you that gave her something to look forward to.

Soomin thinks that this is it.

She thinks that her loss of you in her life is the worst luck she's ever received in her whole life because it incapacitates her whole, leaving a gap on her heart that only takes up to the shape of you.

"I'm sorry he hurt you like that."

She's nuzzled to your side as you've allowed her to, holding onto her firmly because it feels like she's slipping away from you in the bed. There's a railing that cages you into her but it feels like she's going through the cracks, the inevitable fall being plausible despite holding onto her just as tight,

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from my own brother."

"Minnie," your voice cracks despite having only spoken a single word to her once for the time she's sneaked into your room by herself, your heart tightening at how she's blaming herself for a sin she wasn't even aware of. "I-it isn't your job to protect me."

"B-but you're my family."

She cries to you so hardly that you only hear her. You don't feel the rush of the pressure to your ears from suppressing your urge to cry. You can't even hear your own pounding heartbeat with how she folds in on herself just sobbing.

"Your parents and Jimin are your family."

It's the truth that's apparent. It's unavoidable. You're not Soomin's family and nor are you anyone else's. You're a stand-in, is what it feels like. You're a placeholder and a seat warmer for someone that's always gonna be greater and better than you; someone you can't be.

"Y-you're not supposed to be on my side. I-I'm not your blood and flesh, Soomin. You know that."

You only try to be gentle and yet she cries even harder that she trembles, feeling the pain of grieving for someone who's alive yet out of her grasp, an unmistakable feeling of contrition for being here in the first place.

"How could he let you go like that?" she trembles with everything she has, her hand holding onto yours that didn't have your IV sticked in it, closing her eyes so tightly that she sees static.

Soomin's empty from the inside out and she's found solace on a big sister she's never had. On a big sister that's just as old as her brother but she feels everything to her all at once. Her shelter, she feels. An embrace she can come home to at the end of the day, warm even when everything else is freezing.

"How could I let you go?"

Her pain is what breaks you and it hurts even worse than your heartburn, whispering the words to her because it feels like you can't even breathe at this point.

"Your brother unlearned how to love me, Soomin. You can do it too," you smile in encouragement but it's the words she'd want to hear last in her life. “Eunji can be your sister.”

Soomin stops her sobbing as she vehemently shakes her head, making herself dizzy even more with how much she exhausted herself crying. "I don't want her. I hate her," she seethes, "I fucking hate her so much."

You remain silent as you watch her bury herself to your side even more. As if you're the lone neighborhood cat an abandoned kitten cuddles up to for warmth, unrelated yet engrained.

"I don't want to forget you."

Soomin admits in a whisper when she feels her head throb, getting her last words in before she lets herself succumb to sleep, holding you as if it's her last time.

"I can never forget you."

( ♡ )

There are only several people you feel warm with outside of them.

Yoongi, the one who was with you in the beginning.

Taehyung, the one who was with you all along.

Jungkook, the one who was with you at the end of your rope.

It's Jungkook who's the second person of your second day in the hospital who bursts in through your door, tackling you by the side (with utmost care) to engulf you in a massive hug.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

He visits you straight from frigid cabin air, fresh from all the flights he volunteered for in behalf of your schedule you had to forego. He didn't complain, not even once when he knows all too well that what you must've felt is thrice more exhausting, in all aspects, than how he felt.

You look better now than how you did two days ago and it gives him relief, but not enough to the point that it brings the light back behind your eyes. It was barely even there when he first met you, but now they seemed more of an abyss more than they seemed like relief.

"I was so scared. Did you know that?"

"I could tell," you chuckle at the sheer comic relief Jungkook's presence alone brings you, already feeling lighter in your smiles. "I couldn't hear you when I was out, but I could tell."

The last recollection you have of what happened to you was having Jungkook look at the side of your face intensely before the wave of whatever it was that knocked you out crashed, your memory as hazy as it was incomplete.

"You probably cried to Tower or something like that."

It's a careless guess but you know you must have struck in a nerve somehow, seeing Jungkook's lip purse and his eyes avoid your playful gaze persistently.

"God, I hate you."

It's a welcome moment of purely just laughter between the two of you. It's a relief to laugh over something that's happened to you as if it never even happened at all, making you breathe without a single hitch.

It's warm even after the laughter dies down, the look of determination being plastered on your junior's face as he clears his throat.

"Y/N, I flew to here," he picks at his thumb. "I flew your dad."

You didn't expect the change of degree with the words exchanged between the two of you but just like Jimin's appearance, you know it's something you can't avoid together.

You chew on your bottom lip in anxiousness, an unknown type of parental longing blooming in your chest after so long. You don't know if he'll visit you at all. For what it's worth, he could just be here for business.

"You've known him longer than I did. You see him in the company more than I used to see him at home when I was a kid," you look down on your hospital gown, unable to meet Jungkook's eyes. "Did he seem worried?"

It's a question he didn't anticipate but he welcomes it nonetheless, answering you truthfully.

"Yeah. He didn't seem like himself."

It fills you even if it's the minimum. It fills you up even if it's a scrap because it's the feeling akin to not having anything at all — enough to make you feel needed.

"Okay," you nod surely. "Thank you, Jungkook. Thank you for looking out for me."

"Anything for my captain."

Jungkook gives you one more hug and the promise he'll visit soon again, exiting the door quietly but he practically yelps when he's greeted by a lady that's familiar, worried in her eyes but soft in her features — has he ever seen her before?

She's waiting, it seems like.

"O-oh! You must be Y/N's friend! How is she?" Mrs. Park asks but she's afraid that she down-right terrified the guy. "Sorry, I just got here. What happened to her?"

"Right! You must be Y/N's uhm-"

Jungkook tries to find the word or even locate the face, just knowing that she seems familiar somehow and he can't deny it.

"Mom," she answers with no hesitation but later clears her throat when it's too quiet, realizing that the guy in front of her must know too. "Mom figure. I-I'm kind of like a mom to her, in a way."

It's enough.

Jungkook can feel it. It makes sense. He tells her.

Tells her the way you've been feeling a little faint ever since that morning and how you continued up until late noon, never taking a break in the rest cabin.

How you've refused to eat your meals because you felt like you had heartburn, feeling as if your chest was tightening and you were immediately gonna throw up what you eat.

How you were getting a little too quiet, your head leaning forward as if it was heavy before he sees the crimson red ooze out of your nostril, the sight obviously being foreign to yourself even.

How you pick your head up but it leans backwards as if there's a weight to it, your eyes closing and your whole body obviously going limp even if you're sat down.

How your heartbeat was slow and he could barely hear your pulse.

( ♡ )

Mrs. Park and Soomin think that Taehyung is perhaps one of the most beautiful men they've ever seen in their entire lives.

Dr. Kim allowed and even encouraged you to get some fresh air, as long as you were in a wheelchair to avoid unnecessary straining with someone else pushing you because someone told him (it was Jimin but you don't know) that you're quite the mastermind when it comes to attempting to do everything yourself, not admitting that you needed help.

You were gonna be kept here for less than a week until you feel stronger. Until all the tasks could be ran and interpreted. Until you master your spirometry test and can blow the little balls up to the top of the casing, until it no longer becomes a competition between you and Tae who has trouble with it too.

Taehyung gleefully volunteered himself to push you and even no matter how much you tried to convince him that you can do it yourself, it only became the equivalent of conversing with a wall.

The two of you were in the elevator when Mrs. Park and Soomin were just about to enter to visit you upstairs, stopping in their tracks sheepishly at the sight of you.

They want to be with you too.

"Well aren't you a handsome man?"

Taehyung laughs openly, flicking your ear as if to remind you that you're also hearing what he's hearing.

"I try my best."

Jimin watches — he does nothing besides watching. He's never tried approaching you when it's only the two of you even if he's had plenty of windows. Didn't try getting the two of you alone because as much as he wants to talk to you, he's scared.

He knows. He knows now what happened to you because his mom cried last night to him of how painful it must've been for you. He knows because he's spent the last hour crying to his hands when his mom spoke in whispers of what happened to you, tearing up herself for something that wasn't her doing.

He's hurting but not as much as you do and it pains him — it pains him that the only way he could hurt is through you and yet you do nothing. You don't give him the hell he knows he deserves. You don't give him the pure hurt he's supposed to feel because that's what you are — never the one to share your burdens; never the one to give him pain because you wanted to shield him away from it.

“I’ll take it from here, buddy.”

Jimin's shoulder barely even grazes Taehyung's and yet he recoils, stepping away immediately.

His mom and his sister freeze briefly but they continue walking. They don't say anything. They're only here to be with you.

The sky's upset with how the thunder rumbles, the tiniest droplet of rain getting on your hospital gown that it reminds you you're still outside.

Jimin takes his hoodie off and puts it on you, putting the hood up to your head in the event that the rain gets rougher and the winds get colder, wanting to bring you back inside because he doesn't want to risk anything.

His scent is there.

It's on his hoodie.

It's everywhere.

It's overbearing, all at once.

( ♡ )

There's something comforting about your doctor.

He looks inviting and welcoming, his dimpled smiles enough to make you know that he must be a favorite in the hospital by many of his patients.

"Good morning, did you sleep well?"

Dr. Kim asks as he comes to your side, shooting Taehyung a pleasing smile too as he acknowledges his presence.

You answer and yet it isn't you who does so too, or atleast you're the one who does it verbally.

Jimin and his family are sitting just beyond the partition where your hospital bed lays and where the reception area of your VIP room resides, giving you privacy.

His family sleeps at a hotel nearby, it's more than decent, but they barely get any sleep at all. Jimin didn't book a room for himself. He's slept last night while sitting up but it felt like a nightmare within itself.

They aren't even sure if Namjoon knows that they're there but it's too late for them to slip out of the room unnoticed, calming their breathing in the process.

It's ironic. People you looked to as family, now tucked away and hidden.

"Finally gathered all the results for your tests today, Miss Y/N."

To be honest, you didn't even know that today would be the day you're getting the results for what Dr. Kim made you go through, a relief in your chest that it'll soon be finally over, but a sinking one at the opposite of it because it just feels like you won't be out here as easily.

Dr. Kim is welcoming and inviting. Warm, because he needs to.

He needs to before he breaks the news to you.

"Does your family have a history of arrhythmia?"

Your mouth becomes dry at the mention, blinking your eyes in succession.

"Not that I know of, no."

He nods once, immediately understanding. "Arrhythmia is a heart problem that's linked with how it beats. It's an irregularity, per se. The heartbeats of someone who has arrhythmia aren't coordinated."

Namjoon pauses in his words as he looks up at you, patiently looking up at him without an ounce of fear.

"According to your ECG, how do I-?" he straightens his dress shirt, looking at you personally because somehow he feels for you, even if he only knows you to a far degree. "You've said that you experience heartburns, right? Quite frequently nowadays?

You nod meekly.

"According to the tests I've ordered, you have arrhythmia. Bradycardia, to be exact."

The term piques at your ears and you're unaware of how you've tuned everything out because it feels like it's only you and Namjoon at the moment, your tunnel vision fixing upon him.

"I do?"

You verify but you're calm. You don't sound panicked — you're composed even if it's Dr. Kim who seems to be more nervous between the two of you.

"Is she gonna die?"

Taehyung asks in a panic, blinking fervently when Namjoon dismisses him with a squeak, shutting down his worry instantly because he was bothered by it too.

"Your heart rate's slow. That's normal, it happens to a lot of people more than you think," he explains. "But what happened to you in your flight, it was just a little too slow. It missed one, two beats repeatedly."

It makes sense even if he's only said so little, the awareness you've had all this time being unexpectedly named at this point in time.

"What you have is mild bradycardia. You may have not noticed the symptoms before because they felt normal to you. The fainting incident only happened now, correct?" you nod surely as you're transparent, still casting light doubt over Taehyung who's worried out of his mind. "Do you feel fatigued even if you haven't done much? Lightheaded, even. The chest pains, the heartburns, they were symptoms too."

Your heart, as if on cue, tightens. It wraps over your own chest like it has its own coil but oddly enough, it doesn't hurt. It merely squeezes you but it doesn't suffocate you. The ache just reminds you that it's there simply because it exists.

"If it got to this way, your body and mind must've normalized it enough that it only felt like regular days. Regardless, what you do have is mild bradycardia," he reassures you, a close-lipped smile on his face. "Your routine medical tests in the airline are accurate despite this. Your heartbeat is just slow enough to be considered normal, it's still medically acceptable to be in your line of work. I uh, I may have to put you in observation for the next two weeks to a month because I wouldn't want you to go back to work to faint again. I'm sure your co-pilot who was crying in the ambulance and all the souls onboard wouldn't want their captain fainting either."

It's over.

It's done.

You have your prescription already and Dr. Kim's finished giving you your results, already feeling much free and yet it feels like you're the only in this room who's relieved.

"You're right, I've checked. It doesn't seem to be congenital and it doesn't run in your family. All the other tests came out clear."

Not only were they clear but they all surpassed the healthy levels of what should be normal with flying colors, deducting to his final cause.

"Have you been emotionally stressed and exhausted these days? Psychological tolls, traumas and high anxiety can normally trigger mild bradycardia."

You didn't expect him to add more and yet you nod but you don't meet his eyes.

Taehyung only looks at Dr. Kim softly as if to tell him that this should be enough even if it's his job, the latter catching on fairly quickly.

"You're not gonna die, Y/N. Don't let Taehyung get into your head," he snickers and it alleviates the tension in the room, making you chuckle.

"It may not be entirely possible, but moving yourself away from psychological stressors can help significantly."

He's oblivious to the very people behind the partition, ones that he didn't seem to notice.

He's oblivious to how his godfather holds Mrs. Park so tightly as he suppresses his cries softly.

Of how Soomin is blank and unmoving at all.

Of how Jimin is the one who cries the hardest but is the most silent, putting his own hand on his mouth as he feels his knees give out to the carpet underneath him, the pain in his chest exceeding the ones he's ever had the experience of feeling.

( ♡ )

It's okay — you should be.

Knowing what you have somehow gives you a new perspective altogether. It alleviates the pain in your chest from time to time that you allow yourself to be hurt because it was meant to be there.

It was always there from the start.

"You're getting released tomorrow."

Taehyung sings to you as he spies the tiny frown in your face to cheer you up, opting to stand beside you instead of pulling up a chair. "You okay?"

His tone's lighthearted but you know it packs much more than it should in the first place, setting a tentative glint to your visage.

"I can't tell either," you answer truthfully but there's no shame when you say your next words, the period for that long gone in your state. "I want to feel, Taehyung."

His brows raise in genuine curiosity, fixing his posture to get a better look at you and to gauge your reaction.

"What do you want to feel?"

"Anything."

He merely chuckles at the candid answer but he knows it's the truth nonetheless, bringing up his hand to pat your head.

Taehyung stands a little too close to you, the soft smile on his cheeks making you mirror him, the words leaving your lips before you could contain them.

"Can you kiss me?"

And he does.

Taehyung leans to your side of the bed, as gentle and as sweetly as he could, his warm hand on the side of your face before you get to taste him, the smile appearing in your face instantaneously.

You don't look for his lips when he pulls away because you're thankful to have it on yours in the first place, a snort from him coming out as soon as you make eye contact after.

"Can you feel now?"

"I felt it."

You feel him poke at your cheek and it reminds you of the warmth, tilting his head to meet your eyes.

"I don't wanna take advantage of you, Y/N. You're vulnerable and it happens that I'm here," he says sincerely. "I feel vulnerable too, seeing you like this."

You understand where he's coming from and so does he, a complete connection between the two of you that's not as fragile as a kiss between two people would be.

"Just a kiss, Mr. Kim. I'm not asking you to marry me," you playfully roll your eyes, the laugh escaping you before you get to finish your words. "We all know how that turned out for you the last time."

It's painful but it's happy, a genuine laugh being fished out of you and Taehyung finds himself mirroring your sentiment, burying his face in his hands.

"One last vulnerable kiss," he leans in to press to you, catching you off-guard but you entertain it regardless. "And I'm getting you something else for lunch because stealing your hospital pudding makes me feel like I'm doing you a favor."

It's okay.

You feel okay.

( ♡ )

Jimin knew he had all his inhibitions out the door the moment Dr. Kim entered your room awhile ago.

He's pathetic and selfish and to hell if he stands by it, the whole gravity of everything that's been happening to the two of you, to you, knocks his equilibrium as a whole.

He's lost his way and it overthrows him completely because it seems like a maze with its only purpose being to close around him, the heartburn in his chest being a mainstay.

It wasn't there in the start, but now it never leaves.

Jimin cries even before he gets to your door because he feels too weak enough that opening it makes his arm give out, one glance at your bed to know that you're alone tonight and it's only the two of you.

You know it was him.

You know it's from the way he opens the door and how he sniffles outside his room, his sobs echoing in his ribs.

He only sees you and it reduces him to tears at the first glance, barely even making it near your bed before he collapses on his knees and folds himself on to the floor on the sheer pain he feels, dragging his knees to the floor to get to you — practically crawling.

"Don't do that," you mumble under your breath, your heart panging at the sight of Jimin.

But he doesn't hear you. He can't hear you until he's near to you enough to see how you're still yourself but you look different. You're unlike yourself and it's almost as if he can't recognize you.

Is it you who changed or is it him?

“My mom’s been going to the temple to pray," he admits to you on his knees with his hands on your arm, no matter how you try and nudge to pull him up to his feet. "Prayed that the heavens will take your pain away," he smiles through tears, "she's repenting in behalf of me."

There's something wrong with your heart and it shakes him to his core and hurts him like no other, your heartbeat too slow and yet you're here — still here as if you hadn't spent the last five years with him with your heart in the state, the pace enough to love him in slow motion.

He cries to your chest the moment you've regained enough strength to pull him to his feet by surprise, making you remove the barrier that separates you both.

It's heart-wracking enough to hear him because he sounds distinct enough, but it's even more heartbreaking to see him as is in such a state. He's holding to you on whatever way he could, making your tears spring nonetheless.

"Jimin," you whisper, the words leaving you with no warning. "Taehyung and I kissed awhile ago."

It's silence.

He looks up at you and he's not angry. He's not annoyed either. There isn't one bit of disdain on his face regarding what you've said, seeing him nod instead.

“That’s good. That’s nice. I’m happy for you.”

The gears turn in your head but he catches you in surprise when he pleads to you, your breath getting caught in your throat.

“Kiss him again.”

Your eyes bulge from their own sockets as you tilt your head, wanting to yell at him and yet it never comes because your voice sounds too frail; to unlike your own at your disbelief.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to be unfaithful.”

He's asking you to be unfaithful even if now, there's nothing between the two of you.

Unfaithful, just like I once was, he was about to say.

He doesn't have to digest your words because he's already processed it long before, nodding even if you haven't said anything.

“It’s okay if you sleep with him. Sleep next to him even.”

Jimin's eyes well up with tears and it brings you to your own, unsure if you were looking at a mirror because it feels foreign. Feels all too new to see him in this state.

Is it you who changed or is it him?

“As long as you come home to me, please,” he brokenly mumbles, enveloping your hands within his own. “As long as you come home to me.”

It's a singularity that forms in your chest that expands the more you see Jimin hurting — the more you see him pleading to even have a sliver of you to himself.

It's a pain that grows in your heart that you weren't even sure is built to house a mass so big, making you sob within your own chest.

“It’s okay if you aren’t fully mine,” Jimin nods as he assures you, lip trembling as he tries to make you feel that he's sincere with his words because he's more than willing. “As long as I’m yours.”

“One day, you’ll wake up and it isn’t me anymore, Jimin.”

“That day will never come.”

Jimin shakes his head no as fast as you've raised him the possibility.

You don't know if it was you whom he picked the morning he woke up and decided that Eunji makes him happy, but what you do know that it's you now. That he's pleading for you without end.

“I’d rather not wake up than have the day when it isn’t you anymore happen.”

“Let me go, Jimin," you could only whisper because it could only hurt so much when you say it out loud.

“That’s the thing,” he whispers back, hands trembling. “I can’t.”

“You can let me go, if you want," Jimin offers and you don't know if you're hearing correctly, stinging eyes looking up at his that are boundless with how much he continues to search for you even if he's holding you. “But I can’t say that I can do the same.”

It's your hurt that pains him the most.

“Yell at me. Cheat on me. Slap me if you want,” he tries to take your hand and yet you fight his will to even tap your palm lightly on his cheek. “Whatever you give, I can take it.”

“I can take it, I swear.”

Jimin smiles through the heartburn, wiping at his tears as he tries to wipe at your own.

“I promise I’ll take it.”

heartburn; series masterlist

pairing: jimin x reader

glimpse: you know it’d happen eventually and you’ve been preparing yourself for the impending hurt — you just don’t want it now. not now when it’s nearing jimin’s little sister’s birthday; not now when you can swear love isn’t the only thing you can put on the table.

alternatively, jimin emotionally cheats on you while your wedding’s six months away.

warnings: heavy angst (pls i am once again apologizing to the people that cried bc of this ily), emotional cheating, emotional constipation n baggage, insecurities, broken relationship w parents, intense longing and hurt i can't put into words + specified tags in each installment!

notes: thank you for all the love for heartburn <3 i'm genuinely so happy reading all your feedback and thoughts!! send them in here :)

cross-posted on ao3.

01: part one

02: intermission

03: part two

04: intermission 02

05: part three; finale

Schedule for January (Patreon)

Girl of his Dreams (One)- Early Access

Read the prologue here.

Burning Love (Two)- Exclusive Sneak Peek

Read chapter one here.

Smut Drabble ($8 tier)

I don't know which member's I should upload. Fell free to suggest!