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oddinary4bts · 11 months

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Love is a Laserquest | choi san

☆summary: years after your break-up, Choi San comes to you for help. In an attempt to save his life, you escape to your uncle's cabin in the woods far from civilization. Will nostalgia and longing make you fall again, or is Choi San just spinning more lies to you?

☆pairing: gangster!Choi San x female!reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: gangster au, exes au, angst, smut, a smidge of the one bed trope

☆warnings: guns/gun violence (mentioned), knifes/stabbing (mentioned), a bounty over San's head, death of a minor character (named Jungkook my bad), blood, injuries, stitches, probably some wrong medical terminology bc optometrists don't stitch up people lmao, a panic attack, cursing, pet names, explicit content: oral sex (female receiving) -> face riding, let me know if I forgot any!

☆word count: 16.5k

☆a/n: Here's my submission for Outlaw: The Project hosted by @ssaboala. It is coincidentally my first time posting about another group than bts, so I hope this won't disappoint! I really enjoyed writing it (even though it's really sad oop). Also my first time making a moodboard so hopefully it works haha

☆a/n pt2: thank you to @moonleeai for being my ever-so faithful beta reader, love you lots <3

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And do you still think love is a Laserquest? Or do you take it all more seriously? I’ve tried to ask you this in some daydreams that I’ve had But you’re always busy being make-believe

Love is a Laserquest – Arctic Monkeys

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The diner is silent, unoccupied. It always is on late weekday evenings, when most patrons have gone to bed, the city falling under a carpet of hushed silence only night can bring forth. It makes the diner feel like it’s straight out of a 70s movie, and it makes for the perfect study sessions too.

Night isn’t always soundless in your part of town. Hence why you’ve been trying to escape, pursuing an education that has been leaving you penniless, but with a bright future ahead. If you make it out of med school at a certain point, that is.

Tonight, you fear the peace that night usually entails has been ruined for you – there were gunshots earlier, close enough for you to see the police cars racing past as the law officers made it to probably yet another gang fight.

There’s been a gang war on your side of town. The diner has always been safe, a refuge for both sides of the war, where they aren’t allowed to fight. To carry in weapons and hatred. No, the moment they cross the threshold of the diner, the gangsters become one family, sharing struggles that only poverty can cause.

You wipe a table clean before walking back towards the counter. Your open laptop waits for you, and you quickly read the study guide you’ve made for yourself, the cardiovascular system and its pathologies forming a maze in your mind that you’ve yet to decode. Luckily enough, you still have a week before the bloc ends and you have to take the exam.

Plenty of time to cram everything about the heart in your thick little skull, you’d say.

Your lips move in time with what you’re reading, attention solely focused on the bright screen when a thump is heard right outside the door. It startles you, and you turn around to see the empty street out of the glass door.

It takes you about ten seconds to notice the dark form sitting on the ground. They’re leaning against the door, head lolling to the side. You assume it must be someone that’s ended unhoused, something that happens far too often where you live.

You’ve always been kind. When you were younger, you were told your kindness would be your demise. Yet you’ve never been able to be anything but kind, even though sometimes it might put you at risk. So you can’t resist but walk to the front door, trying to push it open.

It’s useless – the weight of the person is keeping it tightly shut, though they do straighten a little, as if coming to their senses. They turn, and the moment their profile comes into view you’re brought back eight years in the past. To a time when the world was still a beautiful place, void of violence and cruelty. To a smile so sweet it made flowers blossom on your heart, and to eyes so sharp you knew they had read your soul.

Choi San is sitting outside the door, and the caked blood on his cheek tells you enough – he’s injured. He pushes away from the door before slowly getting up. He clutches his side as he does it, yet when he turns back towards you and faces your horrified eyes, he still offers you a smirk.

You push the door open, thinking about the years between then and now. You had dated him for a few months that had felt like forever, until you had realized in what kind of business he was getting involved with. You had tried to convince him to flee before it was too late, and he kept promising that he would.

Only he never did, hiding lies with beautiful words that made your teenage self swoon, until your parents had realized and forced you to break up. It had been a nasty break-up, filled with hatred and words you didn’t mean yet had needed to say for him to leave.

You remember breaking his heart like it was yesterday.

“Choi San,” you greet him, and when he lets go of his side, you notice blood on his hand.

Something runs cold inside of you, even though he still sports a smirk on his lips.

He says your name, bowing his head. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Months, in fact. Because he does come to the diner sometimes. He usually ignores you, and so do you, so it feels strange to have him speak to you. To hear his voice as his words are addressed to you.

“What…” you trail off, glancing down at the ripped fabric of his black tank top.

He’s got a mean cut on his ribs, and it’s only then that you truly realize that he’s badly injured. Because there’s more – one of his biceps has been sliced open too, though blood is barely oozing out of it in small rivulets. The blood on his cheek is from where you assume he’s been punched with rings, and there’s already an underlying bruise under his eye.

“Got beaten up,” he states the obvious, and you immediately open the door wider to let him in.

He limps in, heading towards the nearest booth, where he plops down and lets out a pained grunt. You make sure no one is outside before shutting the door and locking it, flipping the hanging sign on it so it says closed in case a patron decides to show up.

You take a few steps towards San, hands shaking slightly at your side. Because that’s a grown man, bleeding out on the leather seat of the booth, and his eyes are shut though he looks in pain. You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You haven’t yet started your residency, haven’t really gone from theory to practice… Yet you’re studying to be a doctor, are you not?

“Why are you here?” you ask, though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

“Didn’t know where else to go,” he says, wincing as one of his eyes opens. He tilts his head to look towards you. “Word around the block says…” he pauses, takes a deep breath before continuing, “that you’re studying to be a doctor”.

So you are right. He’s here because he needs your help, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.

“Why…” You look for words, and it takes you a moment to realize that it doesn’t matter.

For all the history between you and him, Choi San doesn’t deserve to bleed out to death on a cheap leather seat in a forgotten diner on the dangerous side of town.

He has the decency to chuckle at the start of your question, which only makes him wince in pain once again.

“Don’t move,” you tell him, and it’s a little stupid because clearly, he’s in no state to move.

He doesn’t question it, and you run to the kitchen to thoroughly wash your hands and grab the first aid kit. At night, no cooks stay around, and you usually only reheat food if needed, which doesn’t really happen. You haven’t had any client coming in at night in weeks… until San, that is. So no one is there to see what is going on, which you reckon is a relief. Because you have no idea what’s going on.

You return to the booth where San is waiting, patiently. He’s clearly wiped his hand on his face because there’s fresh blood on his forehead, and you almost balk at the sight of it.

“What have you done?” you mutter, more to yourself than to him.

It seems he’s still in sync with you because he still hears. “Got involved with the wrong crowd.”

You put the first aid kit down on the table, ignoring his eyes when they flutter open, and he rests his gaze on you.

“I don’t know if I can help you,” you say as you unzip the kit and throw it open. You spare his side a quick glance. “This looks like you’re going to need stitches.”

He makes an effort of looking down at himself, though it mostly fails as he doesn’t raise his head from the seat. “Right.”

You grab everything you think you might need – alcohol swabs to clean his skin, fresh linen to bandage his side and arm, and stuff for his cheek too. He carefully observes you, with that piercing gaze of his that used to make you go crazy inside when you were young and impressionable.

You vaguely motion at him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Are you able to sit up?” you ask. “I can’t reach you if you’re lying back like this.”

His pink tongue darts to wet his lips, and he nods curtly. “Let me…” he trails off, resting a bloody hand on the table while he grabs at the back of the booth to push himself up. It has new blood appearing on his side, and you quickly move towards him, putting some linen against it.

As if it’s going to do anything. He clearly needs stitches, and you’ve got nothing with you to stitch him up.

“Fuck,” he curses lowly as he’s finally sitting. You just keep the linen on his side, eyes a little wide.

Your gazes connect inevitably, and time slows. You think about how he used to smile, how his eyes used to hold a softness you haven’t had the chance to see again since he’s walked out of your life.

Or rather, since you kicked him out of your life.

“I don’t think I can help,” you whisper, and his eyes flicker to your lips.

“I can’t go to the hospital,” he admits, shame turning his features into a mask of regret. “They… If they find me, I’m dead.”

Dread fills every ounce of your being. “San, what have you been doing?”

He looks away from your insistent gaze, scoffing slightly. “You don’t want to know.”

He isn’t wrong; you genuinely don’t want to know. Because he means nothing good, even with all the memories you share with him.

“Is it going to put me in danger?” you ask, as he still obstinately avoids your gaze.

He seems to freeze in front of you, as if you’ve pressed pause to your favourite show. To avoid the awkwardness, you busy yourself with grabbing one of his hands so he can hold the linen in place before you start washing the cut on his arm. It’s not deep, but you’re pretty sure it’ll still leave a mean scar, especially considering he can’t go to the hospital.

The thought has a drop of cold sweat roll along your spine. People want him dead. People want Choi San, the man you know as a young, scared teenager just trying to find a way to make his life better, dead. You remember the innocence in his smile – has he smiled at all in the years apart?

“I should go,” he says flatly. He moves to stand, but you hold him down, two hands firmly placed on his shoulders. It makes him wince, and you quickly release your grip.

“Don’t,” you tell him. “Let me at least patch you up.”

His eyes shut again as his head hangs low. “I am so sorry.”

You don’t even know who he is apologizing to, or why he is. All you know is that it causes your heart to clench in your chest, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When you were younger, you believed San was your star-crossed lover. You believed your high school sweethearts romance would grow until you’d be old and grey and at the end of a very long road. You had dreamed of a future with him, the way only teenagers can dream – with no sense of reality. Because your reality had never been to end up by his side.

His choices had been proof enough of it.

You still remember the day you first kissed. Under an August meteor shower, with just the night sky as your witness. It had been hesitant, slow and soft, just like everything with San. And you had believed the lie, trusted it with every beat of your little heart, until your parents had found out the truth about him.

Until they had broken your heart, even before you had broken his.

If the stars had known then, what was going to happen to you and Choi San, would they still have shone through the night?

He lets out a pained sound as you gently dab at the cut on his bicep. You clean the skin around the wound in and of itself, and he watches you carefully, piercing gaze not missing how your face clouds with memories.

“How have you been doing?” he asks so softly you think his words are a gentle summer breeze on your features.

You can almost still smell the summer night air of that field where you had stargazed, where you’d always meet so long ago.

“I’ve been okay,” you answer, truthfully. Because even though you haven’t seen him, you have lived your life apart from him. Have evolved without him by your side. “Better than you, visibly.”

He didn’t expect the joke. It makes him snort, and then a soft smile grows on his lips, softening the edges of his hard features. “You haven’t changed.”

You have, and yet you haven’t. Like him, you think there’s a part of you that is still sixteen, and will forever be. A part of you that remained stuck in the moment when you watched him walk away in the rain, as if even the sky had to cry for his broken heart.

“Wish I could say the same about you,” you murmur, nostalgia a melancholic song in your words.

He chooses to remain silent, because the proof of how much he’s changed is sitting right in front of you, wounded and bleeding and hurt. The hurt is behind his eyes, in the shadows of the past that have also been obscuring your vision.

“Yeah,” he lets out, barely audible.

And then silence reigns between you, because as much as you once loved him, eight years have made you strangers. You don’t know anything about his life except the dirty, obvious darkness that surrounds him, and he doesn’t know anything except that you are studying to be a doctor…

Which leads you to wonder how does he know in the first place?

You ask him, as you’re wrapping the linen around his bicep to make a makeshift bandage. You’re proud of the result, though your fingers can’t resist but linger on the taut skin over his muscle, surprised at how soft it still is.

“I’ve heard you mention it,” he admits, as you take a step away to look at the material on the table, as if it’ll suddenly make stitches appear for you to put them in his skin. “One of the times I was here.”

“You never said hi,” you reproach him, unable to hide the ghost of a bite in your tone.

“Neither did you,” he points out, and he isn’t wrong.

All you can do is purse your lips as you finally decide to clean his skin. But for that, you have to rid him of his tank top, to make sure there’s no fabric in the wound. You look at him, cheeks somehow burning even though all you’re doing is taking care of a patient.

Though he’s not a patient, and you’re not in a hospital. You’re just a server at a dusty, old diner and he’s just your teenage lover, wounded by his dangerous actions.

“Should I grab scissors to remove your shirt?” you ask, though you’re speaking to yourself more than to him.

He still finds it in him to tease. “You want me out of my shirt?” he enquires, smirk gracing his lips again. “Say no more.”

He tries moving, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Don’t,” you warn. “You’ll make it bleed more.”

He purses his lips, because nodding. “Right.” He glances at the first aid kit, before his eyes trail to your face again. “You got scissors in that?”

There are. You grab them, before turning towards him. It feels strange: you’ve never undressed him before. You had always wanted to wait, back then, before you slept together. You believed you were too young, and San had always respected it.

“Let me know if I hurt you,” you tell him as you take a step closer to him.

He slightly leans back, furrowing his eyebrows. “What do you plan to do with those that might hurt?”

You roll your eyes, playfully, before taking the two other steps leading to right in front of his legs. You notice that they are slightly parted, allowing you to come closer, and you take a steadying breath before reaching between you, pulling at the fabric of his tank top.

“Stay still and you shouldn’t get hurt,” you whisper, ignoring the heaviness of his piercing gaze on you.

It burns right through you, and you have to tame the beats of your heart at the feeling of the warm skin of his shoulder against the back of your fingers as you bring your other hand forward, until you’ve started cutting his shirt.

It’s stuck to his side where blood has dried, and he winces but remains still and silent as you keep going, pulling on it a little harder to be able to cut. The moment stretches into infinity, because you can’t help but take your time. It reminds you of how you’d used to run your fingers on his back, under his shirt, when you napped in the field in the summertime. In an idyllic world where gangs and violence and war were mere inventions of the media, and not a reality that surrounded you.

You’d loved the field. The wildflowers, the open air, the way it was just you and him and a few lazy bumblebees as clouds lazily crossed the sky above. You were so young then, so innocent. Hands unstained from blood, from his blood.

Because as you cut, the hand touching his shirt stains with blood. You pale at the sight of it, but you keep going, pushing through until you’re done, gently pulling the fabric from his body until he’s sitting there, shirtless, with a long wound on his ribs.

You can’t help but notice his toned chest and the defined abs on his stomach. Though blood mars his skin, turning it into a piece of violence, Choi San is still beautiful. Beautiful in a dark, dangerous way that has you glance outside, making sure no one is looking.

But the streets are empty, void of life at this time of the night. At least, they mostly always are.

“You will need stitches,” you state again as if you both don’t know already.

“I can’t…”

An idea forms in your brain. It’s a stupid idea, and you don’t even know why it crosses your mind.

Your uncle has a hunting cabin far in the woods. He’s a nurse himself, and he’s always kept everything over there in case someone got injured and he had to stitch them up. You haven’t gone in forever, but you still remember the tall trees, the deep forest scent that reminds you of autumn and leaves and grey days spent reading by the fireplace.

You never went hunting, but you did accompany your father when he went, needing an escape from the city once in a while. An escape from a life that was slowly becoming too real.

Your uncle is currently halfway across the country, so you know you’d be alone at the cabin. You glance at your laptop over your shoulder – you have three days off in front of you before your next class on Monday. Indeed, the Friday class is pre-recorded and to watch online in your free time, and you figure you can always watch it some other time.

So you turn towards Choi San, almost surprised that he’s real and he’s still sitting in front of you, honey skin cut open on his ribs.

“I might know a place where you can go,” you admit, with a small voice, surprising both you and him. Because you doubt he expects you to want to help, after tonight.

“What?” he asks.

“My uncle’s cabin,” you remind him, because you’ve told him about it all those years ago. “He should have all that I need to stitch you up.”

San looks down at himself. “You’ve just cut my shirt open.”

It sounds a little dumbfounded, and you can’t help the nervous laugh that falls from your mouth. Because even though it doesn’t look too deep, the wound still is terrifying in and of itself.

“I’ll bandage it,” you whisper. “Before we go.”

He seems like he ponders for a time. You watch the debate across his features, his eyes falling to a spot on your chin. He looks sad, troubled and defeated. “I can’t… I can’t do this to you.”

You ignore his words, carefully washing his side. You avoid the cut and try to be as gentle as you can, but his muscles still flex as he clenches his fists from the pain.

He’s strong. That much hasn’t changed. Because he doesn’t make any sound as you finish washing him and then patch him up with those same careful hands. And when you move to his face, cleaning the blood, his eyes flutter shut, and he sighs softly.

He looks so much like he looked then that your heart aches, and you find yourself blinking away tears for this man who’s had it so rough he believed joining a gang would save him.

“I should have come to you before,” he murmurs. “You’re much gentler than Hongjoong.”

You don’t know the guy he mentioned, and you don’t feel like asking. Don’t feel like acknowledging his words, so you just finish with his cheek before stepping away from the peaceful aura that was treacherously pulling you in.

Like all those years ago, you reckon.

“Let me make a call,” you say, turning away from him as you move to the counter. You feel the weight of his eyes between your shoulder blades as you get your phone from next to your laptop. You call your boss, and as someone that’s never called in sick before, you feel anxiety flush through you.

Because you’re not sick. And how could you tell him that you need to take care of your ex-boyfriend of eight years ago?

Seokhyun picks up on the first ring, voice groggy with sleep when he mutters, “Hello?”

“Boss,” you greet him. You scrape your throat and spare a look towards San who’s watching you curiously. “An emergency came up, and I have to leave the diner.” You swallow the lump in your throat that’s formed from lying, and then you add, “There haven’t been any customers all night, so I was wondering… would you be comfortable with me closing for the rest of the night?”

Your boss says your name, a little reproachfully. But then he sighs, because he knows just as well as you what a good employee you’ve always been. “Are you going to be able to come in tomorrow night?” he asks.

You pull at dry skin on your bottom lip, assessing San’s state. You could always come back to the city for work…

“You know what, I know you’ve got that big exam coming up,” your boss says, sighing into the phone. “Why don’t you take the next week off so you can take care of your emergency and focus on your studies?”

If Seokhyun wasn’t a fifty-three year old married and father of three children man, you think you’d ask him to marry you right now.

“That would be really helpful,” you tell him, gratitude dripping from your voice. “Are you sure that won’t be a problem for the diner?”

“The diner won’t lose profit if it closes for three nights in the week,” he points out. “I’ll see if I can get you replaced for the evening shift on Sunday.”

You thank him again as he grumbles that it’s nothing. He wishes you good luck, and when the line goes silent, you finally meet San’s gaze again.

“All sorted out,” you tell him, offering him a nod. “Let me just close the diner, and then we can go.”

He nods, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. He observes you as you do so, quickly closing the diner like you’ve done about a hundred times before, though this time you’re far more excited to go. You grab a plastic bag to put away the bloody swabs, and though he groans in pain, San gets up to help you clean the blood that stained the cheap leather of the booth.

Soon enough, you’re ready to go, and you walk outside with the plastic bag in one hand and your backpack on your shoulders as San chuckles, looking down at himself.

“Do you have a shirt for me?” he asks as he follows you out.

You lock the door behind you before glancing at him. He’s quite the sight, naked from the waist up and bandaged like he is, and you can’t help the small chuckle you let out as you glance towards your car, that’s luckily parked right in front.

Though it’s a deadbeat car, you trust it enough to know it’ll make the trip to your uncle’s cabin, even in the middle of the night.

“My ex left some sweaters on the back seat,” you admit as you unlock your car doors and open the trunk to put your backpack and the plastic bag in there. There’s no chance in hell you’ll leave a plastic bag full of bloody swabs near your work.

You see San nod from the periphery of your vision, and then he’s opening the door to the backseat. “Your ex, huh?” he mutters as he grabs a sweater you used to love wearing and that you haven’t convinced yourself to give back to Hyunmin.

He carefully puts it on, and you’re pretty sure just the motion is going to make blood seep through the bandage. Somehow, you don’t care that it might stain Hyunmin’s sweater.

Hyunmin was a cheater, and even though you never really loved him, it took you months before you found the strength to break up with him. Needless to say, he doesn’t deserve his clothes back.

“Yeah,” you flatly say as you move towards the driver’s seat. You sit, and San follows you, naturally, as if you’ve done it a thousand times before.

As you turn the keys in the engine, San asks, “Have you dated a lot?”

You bristle at the question, shooting him an embarrassed look. “Have you?”

“No,” he replies, features fully serious.

You purse your lips, focusing on the road as you start driving. You need to put gas in the car if you want to get to your uncle’s cabin, so you make your way towards the closest one. It takes you a moment before you register how San has stiffened next to you.

“Can we…” he trails off, and he sinks in the seat, trying to hide. “I can’t be seen here.”

You immediately press on the accelerator, and your car speeds down the street as you pass in front of the gas station. You glance at San only when you’re stopped at a red light. He’s pulled the hood of the sweater over his features, and he’s doing his best to hide.

“Where can we stop?” you ask.

“Next town over,” he answers. “I just can’t be seen in Bangtan territory.”

Right. You have no knowledge of how the gangs have divided your city, but you’re not surprised Bangtan has this part of town. It’s the industrial area, and you assume there’s a lot of money to be made around here.

“Sounds good,” you gently say, and then you’re driving again, the light turning green, allowing you to speed away into the night.

You drive silently all the way to the next town, watching your city disappear to be replaced by trees until buildings reappear. San is looking outside the window, and you can’t help but wonder how he’s been doing, truly. How he managed to get injured like he is right now, and mostly, if his dreams of running away still occupy his thoughts.

He had begged you, the evening you had broken up with him. Told you he’d make enough money to be able to move with you across the country and build yourself a nice little life over there. You had wanted to believe him for so long, until your parents had opened your eyes on just how he was trying to make money.

“Do you need anything?” you ask as you finally reach the gas station, pulling into the driveway. You park next to a pump, turning to face him only to find him already watching you.

“I don’t have money to pay for food,” he admits. He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I lost my wallet in the… altercation.”

You gently put a hand on his forearm. “Hey, my treat. We have to eat.”

He inhales deeply, letting out the breath slowly, before he nods. “Alright. I owe you.”

You reckon he’ll owe you for a lot more than just food at a gas station, but you choose not to say it. Not when you feel like someone’s watching over your shoulder, watching you drive away in the night with the person they are looking for.

You know it’s paranoia. No one followed you out of the city and into this town. It just feels too strange to have him here, with you. In your car, on the way to your uncle’s cabin, as if eight years have gone out the window. As if you can still be young and innocent.

It’s stupid, because you can’t. Time has changed him; time has changed you. And in just a few years you’ll be a doctor, and you’ll finally get out of this hellhole of a city, of its dangerous streets.

Of its equally dangerous man, that you know could probably pull you back in with one of his many well-crafted lies, one of the dreams he weaved expertly, whispering it into your ear.

You take a deep breath before getting out of the car. You go into the station, grab snacks for the next few days and then head to the counter. The guy behind nods as you approach, and you pay for the food and for gas before wishing him a good night and returning outside. San is still squatting in the car, clearly trying to hide, and you put the food on the backseat before putting gas in.

You watch his profile as you put gas in the car. Back when you were dating, his features weren’t as sharp, as glass-cutting as they now are. He used to sport a rounder face, but today you wonder if you’d get a papercut on his jaw. You wouldn’t even be surprised.

When you’re done with gas, you sit back next to him, and you quickly bring the engine back to life before pulling out in the street. As soon as you exit the city, darkness falls on the two of you, tall trees standing on the two sides of the road again. San doesn’t speak much, and it doesn’t take you long to realize he’s dozing off next to you.

“Hey, everything okay?” you ask, suddenly worried that he might have lost too much blood. Which, you reckon, you should have thought about earlier.

He sighs, glancing towards you. “Just tired.”

“Don’t…” you trail off. “Don’t fall asleep.”

He chuckles. “You’re afraid I’m going to die on you?”

“Choi San,” you warn. “Don’t you dare say stuff like that.”

He smiles, but you reckon he’s a little pale. Or at least you think he is, in the silver light of the moon up above. “I think I’m fine. Just…” He offers you a weak smile, though you’ve returned your attention on the winding road. “Just exhausted. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Worry clutches your heart, and you nibble at some dry skin on your bottom lip. “What’s been going on?”

He slightly shrugs. “I can’t tell you. I don’t want to put you in danger…”

“Am I not already in danger by just helping you?”

The silence is telling enough. And it remains for a while until San finally speaks.

“I was in a gunfight a week ago. Accidentally shot the youngest member of the other gang. He didn’t make it, and the gang has put a bounty on my head. Ateez took my gun and told me to run; I laughed in their face and said I wasn’t a coward. Then I got attacked by two guys with knives earlier, and I made it to the diner because I had nowhere else to go.”

Now the silence is deafening, heavy, and you think you’ve altogether stopped breathing. You’re struck with an image of San in the summer sun, smiling wide as he put a flower behind your ear, claiming you were the most beautiful girl he had ever met. The contrast with who he is now – a product of night, shrouded in darkness with no hint of that smile on his lips – is stark. And you wonder when’s the last time he has seen the sun, when’s the last time his life wasn’t violence like this.

When you say nothing, he scoffs, resting his head against the window as if it’d allow him to escape. Because clearly he wants to escape – he’s just told you that he’s killed someone after all.

And you don’t know what to say. Don’t know how to react to someone confessing murder. All you can do is stare at the street ahead, hoping you won’t end up in a gunfight with San. Because where would that lead you, other than in the dramatics of death?

You don’t speak for the rest of the ride. You don’t think he sleeps either, and dawn is clinging to the far horizon when you get to your uncle’s cabin, in a secluded forest that seems straight out of a fairytale. Instead of bringing you awe like it usually does, the sight of it makes you think of all the murder mysteries you had been obsessed with when you were younger, before you realized how horrible the real world truly is.

Neither of you move, as you turn off the engine of the car, and you fall into even more of a tensed silence, though this time you can hear the chirping of the early birds. It’s peaceful, so peaceful you can barely even grasp how tangible the presence of San is next to you. The presence of his actions too, looming between the two of you like a sword of Damocles.

You move first. Putting a hand on the knob, hoping to escape the heaviness into the dawn. San speaks before you can though, and your heart stops in your chest.

“I never meant for him to get hurt,” he murmurs, and you think he’s speaking to himself more than to you. “Everything went too fast, my gun was in my hand and I just… in situations like these, you don’t have time to think.” He leans his head against the headrest, eyes closing. “All I can picture since it’s happened is him falling and blood. Like a fucking blossoming rose, all around him.” He rests his closed fist on his forehead, rubbing it hard. “I haven’t been able to sleep; I’ve been sick every time I’ve tried to eat…”

“San,” you interrupt as you break and break for him. Because this is the San you know. This is the young boy that just wanted to escape and live in a better world. You can almost taste his remorse, taste his regret and shame. It’s poisonous, treacherous, a slippery slope that can’t lead anywhere good. “Let’s get you in. I want to get that cut on your ribs checked.”

He falls silent, and for a moment you feel guilty. Because what if he had more to say? You don’t even think you would have been able to listen. You need the escape, and you know he’ll permit it. Because the man next to you is a broken man, a fracture of what he could have been.

You step out of the car, blinking away tears – from the anxiety, from the exhaustion, and perhaps even from the pain you feel for him. He follows you, wincing as he swings his legs out of the car. He stumbles a little as he stands, but soon enough, he grows steady on his feet, and his attention moves to you. You climb the stairs of the cabin, lifting the rug to find the small trap that leads to the spare key. The padlock is rusted, but it stands strong as you put in the code, and a click is heard when you pull on it.

A few seconds later, you’ve unlocked the front door, pushing it open to reveal the cabin as you remember it. Not a single item is out of place, though dust covers everything, a clear indication that no one has been here in years. You let San in, before going back to the car to get the food you bought, bringing it in and putting it in the fridge. Three full gas canisters hide under the counter, and you sigh in relief – you’ll be able to get the generator on for some electricity.

You motion to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” you tell San, who somehow looks like a lost puppy. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

He nods, remaining silent, eyes downcast. You only move when he’s seated, heading to the bathroom area of the cabin, where you startle a spider that almost makes you scream out loud. You keep it in, heart beating out of your chest as you get the kit before moving back into the main area.

San is leaning against the chair, eyes closed. He senses you approaching, and one of his eyes cracks open to watch you carefully, a little like he did earlier, at the diner. It looks so similar to how he used to look at you, when you joined him at the field, that you stop in your tracks, heart squeezing once again.

You don’t like the way Choi San is making you feel, that’s for sure.

“Take off the sweater,” you tell him, putting the kit down on the table. You put some clean linen next to it, to put what you need over it, before washing your hands with the disinfectant you find in the kit. You put latex gloves on after, and then you fish wire and a surgical needle from the first aid kit that you carefully put down on the linen once you’ve torn the packages open.

As you were doing all of that, San took off the shirt, struggling a little as it meant he had to lift his right arm, which pulled at the skin of his ribs, where the cut clearly has started bleeding again. Though, if you’re honest to yourself, you’re pretty sure he’s been bleeding this whole time, even though it probably was just some fine rivulets.

Indeed, the cut isn’t all that deep, you remind yourself. Mostly because you don’t want to even think about the consequences of the blood loss. As long as he stays awake, you figure he’s fine – he would have lost consciousness a while ago if he was losing a lot of blood.

You remove the bandage you had carefully put in place earlier, wincing at the sight of the blood that’s seeped through it. San keeps his eyes close, lets you clean his skin again in peace, and you feel sick to your stomach as you realize you don’t have any anesthetics for the pain that stitching him up will cause. Indeed, the pocket in which your uncle usually leaves the lidocaine is empty, and you remember that he’s had to use it for your dad when he accidentally cut himself with a machete last summer.

“Huh,” you let out. You chuckle nervously. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

His eyes narrow, and he clenches his jaw. “Don’t worry about it.”

You worry at your bottom lip, holding his gaze as you gauge if he’s serious. When his gaze doesn’t falter, you offer him a curt nod, before getting the wire and needle ready under his watchful eyes.

You hand him some linen. “To bite on,” you explain as he just cocks an eyebrow quizzically. That makes his gaze widen a little as if he’s just now realizing how serious you were about it hurting, but he takes it nonetheless.

You think about the theory of how to stitch someone up. It was in your previous block – you watched hours of videos of it in an attempt to desensitize yourself to it. You don’t think it compares to the real thing, but at least you’re somehow confident of what you’re doing when you start.

San startles, groaning in pain, and you offer him a glare. “Don’t move, or it’ll be worse.”

A drop of sweat rolls down his temple, but he still nods. Even as you keep on stitching him, he remains as still as he physically can, though you don’t think he even notices how he’s trembling. Or maybe that’s you – you don’t even know.

Somehow, you make it through the whole thing. You think San might have passed out at some point, but he’s wide awake when you finish the knot to keep the stitches in place, looking up to meet his face.

He’s panting and tears of pain wet his waterline. He blinks them away as he takes the linen out of his mouth, dropping it on the table.

“Fuck,” he curses.

“Let me…” you trail off, mind set on getting something to at least help him cool off, because he’s clearly been heating up.

You grab a washcloth and a small bucket, and head outside to walk down to the lake. You fill the bucket halfway, and take a few seconds to observe the calm surrounding you, hoping that it can ease the nerves rolling inside your heart like dark clouds do on the horizon whenever a storm is coming. You feel it in your bones – you have a murderer in your uncle’s cabin.

You have to keep that in mind. To not let Choi San in like you did when you were a young impressionable teenager.

You sigh, closing your eyes to breathe in the fresh morning air. The sun is peaking over the horizon now, and you bask in its hesitant rays for all of twenty seconds before you convince yourself to go back in. You’ve got a patient to take care of, after all.

San hasn’t moved an inch while you were outside. The only indication that he hasn’t died on you is the groan he lets out as you put the wet washcloth on his forehead. You tap his cheek gently, as if to say, ‘suck it up, I’m just trying to take care of you’.

Which is exactly what you’re doing, isn’t it?

You watch him carefully for a few seconds before tapping his shoulder this time around.

“There’s a bed,” you remind him. “You’d be better passing out in a bed.”

He groans again, cracking an eye open. “I’ve just been repeatedly poked with a needle,” he drawls. “Give me a second.”

It makes you laugh. Because of the nerves, maybe. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you’re laughing, and San opens his second eye to look at you as if you’re crazy. And you laugh for longer than you should – you’re exhausted after all, especially considering you haven’t slept since yesterday morning. So far, adrenaline has been keeping you going, but you can tell you’re about to crash.

“Sorry,” you apologize once you calm down. “This has just been…”

“A lot,” San finishes for you. “I know.”

You nod once before glancing at the doorway to the bedroom. It has no door, as your uncle and your dad usually come here alone and they don’t mind sharing a bed. It makes you realize that you’ll have to share it with San, which you reckon you should have thought about before. Because there’s no way in hell you’ll share a bed with him, especially after he’s told you why he’s being hunted.

There’s always the option of going into town later today so you can get a sleeping bag and floor mat to sleep on. But you’re far too tired right now to even consider driving, so you motion to the bed once again.

“Stick to your side; I’ll stick to mine.”

He smirks though he’s extremely pale. A lot paler than he was before, and you swallow a sudden lump in your throat. Because what if he dies? What are you supposed to do with him if he dies?

“You’ll have to help me to get to the bed ‘cause I don’t think I can move,” he says once his smirk dies. He curses under his breath. “I’m so pathetic.”

You put your hand on his shoulder again, reassuringly, eyes holding his. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re hurt. Everyone is pathetic when they’re hurt.”

He gulps before nodding once. It takes everything in you not to offer him more comfort because you feel like the slope would tilt forwards far too much if you did. Instead, you help him to get up, wincing as he puts most of his weight on you, clutching his side with one hand. You’re infinitely aware of how his skin is sticky with sweat, but you ignore it as you slowly walk to the bedroom.

You can only hope the stitches will hold because you don’t think he’d be able to withstand another round of them.

You finally reach the bedroom and help San sit on the side of the bed. He sighs, eyes shut tightly, and he doesn’t move for a time. When he does, it’s to stiffly lie down on his side.

“You might want to sleep on your back,” you inform him. “I don’t want you rolling around and messing up the stitches.”

He glares at you, though he looks like he’s already half out of it. You hold his gaze until he gives in, turning on his back with a deep sigh. You arrange pillows around him to make sure he’s not moving, and by the time you’re done, his breathing has already evened out.

For a moment, you just watch him sleep. You see him in the field where young love blossomed like a trillion wildflowers. You can almost breathe his pollen again, can almost feel the softness of his skin under your fingertips.

But he’s not what he used to be. Back then, you felt like you had discovered something new. Love, infatuation, affection, and desire, all in the form of the man sleeping next to you. You’d used to kiss, dance and sing to a song only your souls knew, and now you don’t think you recognize him anymore.

As much as he is him, he’s also but just the ghost of what he was. He’s trouble, danger in the shape of innocence, and you recall his words from earlier. You recall the despair, the regret and sorrow that haunted him after he told you. You can’t let him get to your head.

You reckon sleep might help. Though you’re afraid he’s going to waste away in his sleep, so you set up an alarm every hour, before climbing on the other side of the bed. You don’t pull on the covers, mostly because the cabin is warm, and you can imagine it’s just going to get hotter as the sun goes up and the summer heat slowly sizzles into the countryside.

It’s a good thing you put an alarm on. Because when it rings an hour later, you don’t even remember falling asleep. You’re pretty sure the second your head touched the mattress, you were out to the land of dreams. You groan, mostly because you’ve got a slight headache, but you power through it to make sure San is still breathing.

When you see his chest moving up and down steadily, you let yourself fall back asleep.

This goes on for the whole morning, and you only force yourself to stay up when your phone shows that it’s passed noon. As you had suspected earlier, the cabin has gotten extremely warm, so you force yourself out of bed to open all the windows, and then you use the washcloth from earlier to gently wash San’s face of the sweat.

He doesn’t even flinch in his sleep, but he’s still breathing and for now, that’s all that matters.

You head back to the main room, grabbing a pack of chips from where you had left the food earlier, and then you move outside to sit by the lake. Mostly because you need to put distance between you and San, but also just because the childhood memories of this place have you in their hold, and they’ve decided to make you miss the times when you’d swim around with your cousins before both of them had moved out of town.

One day, it’s going to be you too. You already know where you’d go – on the other side of the country, as far away from here as possible. You just want to forget all about the place you grew up in, and you know that, in a few years, you will have forgotten.

Though you’re pretty sure a certain piercing gaze will haunt you forever, especially after the events of today.

When another hour passes, you head back inside, putting the empty bag of chips in the trash before you check up on San. He’s still asleep, but this time he doesn’t look as pale as he did earlier. You assume it’s going to take him a while before he wakes, so you head to the nearest town to grab more food. Mostly to busy yourself, but also just because you know San will need a place to hide for a lot longer than just the weekend. Might as well make sure you have enough for him to survive a couple of days. In town, you also stop to eat at a small café on a small terrasse in the shade of a few trees, and then you grab the food you think you might need at the grocery store.

It’s the middle of the afternoon when you get back, realizing that you forgot to buy a floor mat. As you spy San, who hasn’t moved an inch since he’s fallen asleep, you figure that sleeping next to him tonight should be fine.

As long as his presence in your vicinity doesn’t drag you down memory lane again.

You bought some meat in town, so you head to the little shack outside where the generator is hiding. There’s a gas canister right next to it – also full – and you busy yourself for the next twenty minutes trying to figure out how to get it started. When it finally rumbles to life, you head back inside to put the meat in the fridge, which has finally come to life.

When you hear a groan, you quickly jog to San’s side, fully expecting to find him awake. Surprisingly, he’s still asleep, and you stay next to him for a full minute, thinking he might groan again, though he remains entirely silent.

If it wasn’t for his chest moving up and down steadily, you’d believe him to be dead. But now that a few hours have passed, you’re pretty positive he’ll make it, though he’s probably going to sleep through the day and possibly through the next one too.

Which leaves you in the most peaceful atmosphere you’ve been in for a while, with the opportunity to study as you listen to the rush of wind in the leaves of the tall trees surrounding the cabin. You sit outside, this time near the fireplace, and you study until your stomach grumbles, indicating that it is time for you to cook.

You cook the meat you’ve bought on the grill outside, feeling thankful that your dad once showed you how to use it. You go back in to grab a bottle of water before you eat, and you’re bent in the fridge when you hear San moan again, and this time it sounds like he’s saying something.

You gently close the fridge, making your way to the bedroom. San hasn’t moved, but his features are creased in a frown, and sweat is rolling down his temples. You wet the washcloth, gently wipe his face, and you’re about to leave when he moans again.

It takes you far too long to realize he’s apologizing. What for, you can’t really tell. Though you remember his troubled eyes this morning, you remember his story, and your heart breaks in your chest.

He’s haunted. You think the ghost of the dead guy will probably haunt him for the rest of his life. And suddenly you’re struck thinking maybe, maybe if you hadn’t broken his heart all those years ago, you could have saved him from the gang.

Maybe you could have opened his eyes.

You still remember the break-up like it was yesterday. You remember the rain, him leaving without once looking back, but mostly you remember the words you had uttered. Ghosts of their own, that feel more real now that he’s come back into your life.

*****

“You’re going to get hurt!” you yelled. “You’ll get hurt, San. What are you thinking?”

He scoffed, shaking his head, and little droplets of water shot all around him. “I’ll be careful. We need the money if we ever want to make it out of this shit town.”

You blinked away tears, folding your arms on your chest as you tried to keep your heart from breaking. Though you reckoned it had broken when your parents had told you what they knew about San. When your father had mentioned Ateez, and you’d truly realized what it meant that he was part of a gang. San, your sweet, soft, and bubbly San, in a gang that had murdered someone just a few weeks ago.

“But that’s not a way to make money!” you screamed, hoping he’d understand. Hoping he’d hear the truth in your words, hoping he’d change his mind before it was too late. “Why don’t you get a part-time job, like me? Then we can go to college and get jobs in a nice city on the other side of the country!”

“It won’t work,” he drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to be out soon, not in a few years. I barely even have a roof over my head, Y/n…”

“Come live with me,” you choked out around the lump in your throat.

You both knew fully well that your parents would never let him come near you again.

“I can’t.”

You cried, hiding your face in your hands. You cried thinking of the field where you usually met, thinking about its beauty now fading into ugliness. You thought about the wildflowers, withered and dead as autumn had come. You thought about how you were convinced you knew what love was.

“What’s the point?” you asked then. “What’s the point of putting your life in danger? Life isn’t some sort of a game, Choi San. Worse, what if you have to hurt someone? Do you think you’ll be able to pull the trigger?”

He clenched his jaw, hard. “Do me a favour and stop asking questions.”

You closed your eyes, feeling sick to your stomach. Because it couldn’t be. Not San. Not your smiley San, who’d always weave dandelions crowns with you, as you’d pretend you were a queen and a king of that field you had found. An empty field, an abandoned farmland that was just yours and his to explore. That had been home to your first kiss, and all of those that had followed.

Now you wondered why he had always wanted to meet there in the first place. Was he trying to hide?

"If you love me, you’ll get out while you still can,” you said as your tears suddenly ended.

There was a weird sense of clarity in you, suddenly. You remembered the day you had fallen in love, the moment you had first kissed. You remembered the stars in the sky above, the meteors falling for the two of you. You remembered the music on the radio you had brought. Some Arctic Monkeys song about heartbreak, about moving on and failing to do so. As a joke, when it had ended, you had asked San, “Do you think love is a laserquest?”

His answer had been cryptic, mysterious, things that had made you believe he was the one. “Maybe. Maybe it is, and I’ve shot you in the back while you weren’t looking. Maybe I’m that annoying player that won’t leave you alone.”

“I’ll never find you annoying,” you had replied.

But today, watching the rain rolling down his face like tears, you realized that maybe, maybe you should have seen the warning behind his words. Because this betrayal, it came like he had shot you in the back – you didn’t think you’d be able to recover from it.

The past dwindled away as San spoke again, reminding you of the question you had just asked him. “It’s not a question of love, Y/n. I do love you. But it’s a question of survival.”

You laughed, coldly, and then you said, “You know what? You’re full of shit.”

“Alright then. Do me a favour and tell me to go away.”

“Go away.”

A long silence had lingered between you, voided of that summer warmth that had you falling in love. Like a piece was missing from the contract of you loving him, and him loving you. And you realized, maybe you had never really loved each other anyway.

He nodded once when you didn’t say anything else, before turning away. And you watched him walk away. You watched him thinking he was going to turn around and tell you this was just some twisted joke, the prank of the century. Only, he never turned around, and he disappeared behind the bend in the road, never to be seen again, cracking your heart open and splitting it in half.

*****

The sun sets, like an ending to a dream. You’ve always liked the end – you think if you could choose, you’d want to witness the end of the world. The nostalgia, the beauty of endings… it’s something you understand now that you didn’t understand when you were younger. Because you and San ending, it had led to you focusing on high school. It had allowed you to get in the good college in town, with a scholarship that covered most of your expenses before you made it to med school.

There’s beauty in knowing losing San has allowed you to live out your dreams.

There’s less beauty in knowing that San has been sleeping for almost thirty-four hours now. Last time you checked, he was still breathing, but you’re starting to be afraid that he just won’t wake up. It’s irrational, you know – after the blood loss it makes sense that he’d sleep for a long time.

But it leaves you with far too much time on your hands to think and revisit the past. You’ve been doing it all day – thinking about the fight with your parents that had led to your break-up with San, thinking about that damn rainy evening he had walked away without once looking back. Thinking of the field, of sunshine and star falls and the sweetness of a first kiss. Thinking that, then, you thought you knew what it was like to be in love.

You haven’t dated anyone serious since San. Hyunmin was a distraction for a while, but you never were into it. Not like you were into San. There’s a guy in your class though, that you’ve been chatting with for a couple of weeks. He’s sweet, innocent, and the perspective of a future seems less scary with him around. He’s mentioned he wants to move across the country once too, and since then you’ve started talking more, the similarity of your wishes drawing you closer.

All day today you’ve been feeling like you’re slowly drifting away though. Slowly getting entrapped in a web you’re not sure you’ll be able to walk away from.

You decide to swim, seeking the fresh clarity only cold water can bring to you. You don’t have a swimsuit with you, but since San is half-dead in bed you figure it doesn’t matter. So you strip naked, feet making squelching sounds in the mud by the lake side as you step in the water.

The sharp cold has you holding your breath, but you don’t slow down. You’ve never slowed down in life – when you make a decision, you bring it to completion. And you’ve decided to swim, so swim you will.

The warm summer evening breeze catches in your hair as you take another step forward, the water now lapping at your thighs. You dread the moment it’ll hit your core, knowing that that’s the worst part, but you breathe in deeply, moving forward. Because there’s no moving backwards now.

When the water hits, your eyes flutter shut, and you hold in the wince that threatens to escape the mask of calm your features hold. Soon enough, you get deep enough to swim, and the movements bring welcomed warmth to your limbs as you flop on your back, tits out of the water.

Your uncle’s cabin is the only cabin in a fifteen miles radius. You know you won’t be interrupted, and so you let the water cool you down. Calm you down, hold you in its fresh embrace. It undoes knots in your back that have formed from worrying about San, but also from worrying about college.

From worrying that you will never be enough. You think it’s a normal anxiety to have, something most people must feel as they go through the trials of college, not knowing what to expect on the other side. A nice career, perhaps, though the perspective of failure is there too, looming over the horizon.

You sigh, and your eyes flutter open as your legs move mindlessly under you, making sure to keep you afloat. You look up at the azury ceiling over your head, so far away as it slowly turns gold. Out of touch, out of grasp. You watch the fluffy white clouds that are lazily crossing the sky, turning fiery in the sunset, as if they have all the time in the universe. And you wish you were them, up above. With nothing to worry about.

Without a Choi San on the brink of death lying about twenty meters away from you. You sigh, and you turn in the water, with the purpose of swimming again. Though your gaze catches movement by the cabin, and your head snaps towards it to see none other than the supposedly Choi San, standing on the deck with a hand clutching his side.

You shriek, looking down at yourself. Most of you is hidden, but you don’t know how long he’s been there. Don’t know if he’s seen you naked as you looked up at the sky.

He doesn’t move, only watches you where you’re swimming.

“Can you please look away?” you say from the water, and he has the nerves to lean against the railing, eyes still boring into where you’re swimming. You think his gaze might be so hot the water will boil, and it startles you into action.

You start walking out of the water, pointing towards the door. “You shouldn’t be up, Choi San.”

“I feel fine,” he says as you take another step forward, and the water barely hides your tits anymore.

That makes him turn around, as he offers you a little bit of privacy. You’re quick to get out of the water and wrap yourself in the towel you brought outside, and then you collect your clothes to head back to the cabin. San dutifully keeps his gaze away until you’re climbing the three steps leading to the deck, and it’s then that his eyes trail to you again.

“Thank you for the water,” he says, offering you a tentative smile.

You left water by his bedside earlier today hoping it will coax him to wake up. You’re strangely surprised that it worked.

“You should go sit inside,” you scold him, only half-heartedly. Because seeing him up and about reassures you, somehow.

He cocks an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “The weather is beautiful, I’d rather sit outside.”

You roll your eyes, but you do let him walk down the stairs to sit by the fireplace while you go inside to take a quick shower and get dressed. You decide to make some food for him, though you know he shouldn’t eat too much right now, after not having eaten for a while. He has to start slowly, and you don’t even know if he’s hungry anyway.

You settle for preparing a cup of chicken noodle soup for him, so at least it isn’t too heavy on his stomach. You bring it to him outside, as he’s just calmly observing the lake.

“Thank you,” he says, voice small as he grabs the cup and the spoon.

You sit next to him, trying not to watch him eat too much. His hair is sticking to his forehead in some places, and you have the distinct thought that he’ll probably need to shower. At least there’s plenty of rain water in the bucket for the water pump.

“What have you been doing while I was out?” he asks.

You spare him a quick glance before losing your gaze in the rocks of the fireplace. “I’ve studied. Checked up on you. Not much honestly.”

He chuckles. “I’d argue that caring for someone is a lot.”

You glance at him, cheeks burning at the sight of his teasing smile. “Not really.”

He chuckles again, but doesn’t say anything more before eating another spoonful of soup. He’s almost done with the cup when he actually does speak, asking, “How long was I out?”

“A day and a half,” you answer. “I’m actually surprised you haven’t slept longer.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “I’m made of tough stuff.”

You snicker, but you don’t say anything, just focusing on where you’re kicking at the dirt. When he’s done with the cup, he puts it down on the ground next to him, before sitting back in the chair. He stretches out his legs in front of him, sighing deeply.

“I still feel out of it,” he admits, and you meet his gaze.

“You can sleep more,” you tell him. “I’d just like to check on the…”

You don’t even have to finish your sentence. He immediately turns so his side is to you, and you have to admit you’ve done a perfectly good job with the stitches.

“So?” he asks.

“All good.” You pat his shoulder. “You can sit comfortably again.”

He’s smiling when he does so, and his gaze wanders to the lake once again. “I’m sorry I…” he trails off, and he chuckles softly. “I’m sorry I interrupted your little swim earlier.”

You have the decency to flush furiously red, and you shrug your shoulders. “No worries, I wasn’t expecting you to be up so soon.”

You fall in a comfortable silence, surprisingly so. Rare stars dot the darkening sky up above, and all that can be heard for a moment is the flap of a bird’s wing as it moves from branches to branches in the trees by the water. The breeze picks up as you watch the little bird, and the leaves dance, loudly so. You’d think it’d be deafening in the silence between you and him, but it’s strangely reassuring.

As if, after all, you found your way back to the field. Only this time it’s completely different, as if decades have passed between you. At least, that’s how it feels like.

You notice San has dozed off in the chair next to you when you were about to speak to him again. To ask him how he’s truly been, in the years between then and now. Hoping to avoid mentioning what led to him coming to you, yesterday, a whole eternity ago.

You watch him, heart aching in your chest. Aching to reach out and brush his hair away from his forehead, aching to heal the cut on his cheek with a gentle swipe of your fingers. If only medicine was so simple…

It seems the peace of the early evening wasn’t going to stay around, because you notice dark clouds rolling in the distance, streaks of lightning cutting through them. Slowly inching closer, menacingly so, and you gently wake San up with your hand on his wrist.

He startles awake, hand shooting to his waist, finding nothing there. It startles you, and you both stare at each other for a moment until you realize what he was looking for.

His gun.

“San…” you let out and he runs his hand through his hair, eyes falling shut as he breathes in and out raggedly.

“Sorry.”

“San, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, refuses to let you see the vulnerability you glimpsed behind his piercing gaze. Refuses to acknowledge that he’s terrified, deadly so.

“Let’s go in,” you tell him, softly. Because you’re afraid you’ll spook him, when he’s clearly been living in fear long enough. “There’s a storm coming.”

He nods, carefully getting up without sparing you a glance. He heads inside, hand clutching his side again, while you pick up the chicken noodle soup cup before following him.

You’ve refilled the generator before swimming, so you know it’s been charging the batteries for a while now. You don’t fear ending up in the dark with San, and there’s also always the option of using the lamps and candles your uncle always leave here in case of an emergency.

The storm doesn’t roll in until a little later. You’ve forced San to put a shirt on – mostly so your eyes would stop betraying you, dropping to his toned body whenever he talked to you. You’re currently sitting on the couch, and as the rain starts, hammering against the window behind you, you pull your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms comfortably around them.

“How hard do the storms hit here?” he asks, eyes trailed to the world outside.

You follow his gaze, right as wind picks up to make the water hit the window even harder, creating a cacophony that forces you to speak louder for him to hear. “Pretty hard.”

He nods, and he glances once at you. “Fun.”

You smile, because you’ve always liked storms. Have always found them electrifying, energizing.

“Do you remember when we used to go to the field when it rained?” San asks, taking you by surprise.

Making your heart clench so hard in your chest you have to take a wobbly breath in. If he notices he doesn’t say.

“We were always in that field,” you remind him. “No matter the weather.”

It’s his turn to smile fondly. “It got so pretty with all the wildflowers. But you were afraid of the bees.”

“Bees are scary!” You laugh, and he echoes it with a soft chuckle. “You’re the one that almost pissed yourself when we saw the rat.”

That makes him laugh, and he winces in pain clutching his side. “Gosh, is it supposed to keep on hurting like this?”

It douses your enthusiasm and your smile falls. “Well, it was a solid cut.”

His eyes get lost in the void as he takes on a wistful expression. “I’m surprised I didn’t die.”

You gulp, watching his profile carefully. “It wasn’t deep enough for that…” you trail off, even though you spent most of yesterday and today being convinced he’d die. “At least they didn’t… stab you.”

“They would have if… Wooyoung didn’t shoot.”

You remain silent, not knowing what to reply to that. San interprets that as discomfort, and he quickly adds, “He didn’t shoot them. Just… in the air. It attracted the police.”

You remember the cars zooming past the diner a lifetime ago, and you nod your head. “I heard.”

He seems surprised, and his gaze finally finds yours again. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, a little awkwardly. “I hear a lot of shootings, in the diner.”

His eyes widen, mouth falling open cutely. “You do?”

You don’t know what he expected. The diner is right between Ateez and Bangtan territory, and as much as it is a safe space, it is also near enough to dangerous grounds, and you’ve heard plenty of shooting in your time working there.

“Always,” you admit. “It can get scary sometimes… but you also get used to it.”

He looks sad. Infinitely so, like a lost puppy. That’s when the first thunder hits, so sharp and sudden you startle. Not quite as much as San, who ducks, wincing in pain as he clutches his side.

“Shit,” he curses. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” you ask, in time with another thunderclap, though this time it’s more of a rumble.

You watch his chest as he breathes in and out quickly. “Just… fuck.”

Now, concern grows in you, and you gently put a hand on his shoulder. “San…”

He meets your gaze, and there’s so much white in his it makes you think of a terrified prey. And then it clicks: he thought it was a gunshot.

“Hey,” you quickly say, moving closer to him. You’re on the side of the stitches, so you still keep a safe distance between the two of you, but you grab his hand nonetheless. “You’re okay.”

“Fuck,” is all he’s able to say.

“I promise, no one’s going to find you here.”

He remains silent this time around, eyes still boring into yours. You take that as a cue to continue, because you don’t want him to panic. You want his thoughts here, with you, and not miles away in a city he should have escaped from years ago. You wish he had, knowing the atrocities that he would have avoided.

Would he have escaped with you, had you stayed just a little longer?

“I killed someone,” he says, and you balk at the silver lining his gaze. “I fucking killed him.”

You don’t know how to help. All you can think to do is cup his cheek, right as he starts breathing even faster. “Breathe with me, San.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes fall to your mouth. You make a good show of inhaling slowly, before exhaling even slower. It takes him a moment but he eventually follows your lead.

It breaks when there’s another sharp thunderclap, and he flinches, eyes shutting instinctively.

“Hey hey hey,” you say again, even more gentle, softer than before. You move even closer, and when a tear slips out of his closed eyes, you pull him into a hug, careful not to brush his side.

His head falls on your shoulder, and one of his arms wrap around your waist. A thunderclap later, he starts sobbing, fist balling the fabric of your shirt in his tight hold, and you let him do it. You let him hold onto you, hoping it’ll keep him here with you. Hoping it’ll keep him afloat during the storm that’s raging both outside and in his mind.

“It’s going to be okay,” you breathe, and you feel like you’re lying to him.

Because how can he ever be safe from the ghosts inside of his skull? The ghosts wandering the halls of him, tainting his soul with their presence?

“He’s never going to smile again,” San chokes out. “Everyone loved him. Even in Ateez… Jungkook was the best of us. The only one who had a shot at getting out of it.”

You don’t know how good he could have been, if he was a member of Bangtan. In your mind, you’d always seen Bangtan as the bad guys, mostly because they weren’t with San. Even when you had been struggling to evade that life, you’d still rooted for him.

It’s strange how you just realize that now, as you’re holding him while he breaks.

“You didn’t mean to kill him,” you remind San, still speaking with the calmest voice you can muster up. “You didn’t want to, San. You’re not a murderer.”

“I’m still a killer,” he says. He sounds angry, and you reckon he might be angry at himself. Might be consumed with his actions, dragged to hell before his time as his mind gets stuck replaying the events.

“Maybe,” you answer. “But,” you quickly add when he stiffens in your arms. “But you can spend the rest of your life making up for it. Repenting.”

He doesn’t respond right away, as he breaks some more, sobs rocking through him. You’ve never seen him like this, not even when you were younger and in love. It makes your gaze wet, yet you hold on strong for him. You keep your head held high, and you allow him to break in the safe haven that your arms represent.

Because to him, you’ve never been tainted. You’ve always been the ideal he was trying to pursue, albeit the wrong way.

“I don’t know how to repent,” he admits when he calms down. He turns his head, and his nose brushes along the skin of your neck, slightly tickling you. You ignore the feeling, especially as he adds, “Ateez… it’s all I’ve ever known.”

You run a hand on his back, soothingly. “It isn’t.”

Because there was you, too. There was the summer field and the twinkling stars and Artic Monkeys on the radio. There was the two of you, petal-soft kisses exchanged in the dead of night and in the brightness of day. There were rainy days, and then there was rain. There was him walking away, and you hate yourself then.

You wish you had stopped him that day, had kept him from going on to become what he’s become now. A person he clearly hates, someone that has a bounty on his head. Someone that doesn’t even believe they’re allowed redemption and you reckon you don’t even know if he is.

You only know that seeing him break is bending your will, the way the wind outside is bending the trees. All you can hope is that, like the tall trees, you won’t break.

*****

The storm calmed down sometime around midnight. San ended up falling asleep on the couch, as you’d reassuringly ran your hand through his hair, trying to keep him with you. Though you think he’s been slipping through your fingers, into his demons.

You’ll find a way to bring him back. You have to. Turns out it comes faster than you think, as the electricity runs out and you busy yourself with lighting some candles throughout the main room. When you’re done, you put a blanket over him, and you almost let out a startled scream as his eyes shot open.

“Hello,” you say, resting a hand on your heart to tame the wild beats.

You’re about to move away, but he grabs your hand, forcing you to sit next to him. You don’t really resist, though you think you probably should. You’re weak – weaker still when he murmurs your name.

“San,” you whisper in return, and you’re aware your voice carries too much longing. Longing for a past when life’s atrocities hadn’t changed either of you yet.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, and a tear rolls on his cheek.

You dry it, fingers lingering there. “It’s okay.”

“Angel…”

The nickname brings you back to laser quests and favours and warmth creeping up your stomach for the first time in your life.

“I’m no angel,” you breathe.

“You saved me.”

You hold his gaze. There’s something hiding behind his pupils. The need, to forget. You don’t think you have the ability to run his mind through amnesia, but still you brush his cheek again.

“You deserved saving.”

His eyes glaze once more, though this time no tears fall. “It’s hard to believe it.”

“Do you still believe love is a laser quest?” you ask him, out of the blue.

As if you’re a line straight of that Arctic Monkeys song you listened to the first time you kissed.

“Maybe,” he says, a parallel to that first time you had asked the question. “Maybe it is.”

You can’t resist. You lean down, and you press the gentlest kiss on his lips. His are dry, but the way he sighs with you against him is soft, for your heart and for your mind, and you kiss him again. He lets you lead, follows the dance of your lips, lets you run your hand through his sweaty hair.

Even if you shouldn’t. Even if you know everything you’re doing right now is a mistake, you still find yourself deepening the kiss, opening your lips to slip your tongue out, teasing his mouth. One of his hands finds your thigh, and he squeezes ever so slightly as his tongue finds yours, and you let out a breathy sound.

When you pull away, eyes fluttering open, you find San’s gaze. You think about the boy he was then, the girl you were then. You think about who you were, together. And when he says, “Please make me forget”, you lean again, capturing his mouth in a languid kiss.

For a reason unknown, the summer sky and falling stars pale in comparison to this kiss. Maybe because it holds longing, nostalgia. Hope that life would have turned out differently. For a moment, you picture what it would have been like, without Ateez. With you and him in the field, in your family house, in a car driving by the beach, windows down as the sun sets and you sing along to the radio, wind blowing in your hair.

You see a whole life there, with you and him marrying in the field, under the sun that had been the host of your first love. You imagine growing up by his side, attending college with him in the big city. You imagine how he would have become the owner of his own construction company, like his dad before him. You picture kids laughing, running around the house he would have built for you. You see Christmas light, late nights antics by the firelight.

You see it all, and you know you’ll never have any of it. But if you can have tonight, then you’ll grab it before it slips through your fingers. Before he walks away in the rain again, only to be a memory you cherish in the deepest corners of your heart.

“How?” you ask him when you pull away.

Mostly, you’re asking how to make him forget. But you’re also asking how it is that the feelings are still there, even stronger now, as if they’ve grown up with you, yet haven’t changed like you have. Like they are a constant of an ever-changing universe.

“Kiss me again,” he asks, begs, and you give in. You kiss him wildly, always making sure not to touch his side and the stitches.

You know sex would be a stupid idea, especially with the fresh stitches. But also because he’s barely had time to recover. But he doesn’t really give you a choice, pulling you on top of him until you’re straddling him.

You sit back on him for a second, eyes trailing to the spot where you know the stitches are. “This isn’t a good idea,” you whisper through the ragged breaths caused by the ministrations of his mouth on yours and of yours on his.

“I’m fine,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t believe him. But when he pulls you down again, large hand holding the nape of your neck firmly so you don’t escape, you want to believe him.

Want to believe the beauty of his lies, like you had when you were younger.

From where you’re perched, you can feel the start of his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly in the kiss, rolling your hips. His mouth falls open, and you capture his tongue, sucking on it once before you pull away, leaving hot kisses on his jaw.

“Sit on my face,” he says, and he sounds out of his mind. Crazed, a little like you too feel at the moment.

“What?”

“Can’t get hurt if you sit on my face, angel,” he explains, and then hisses when you suck a hickey on his neck.

You let him pull your shirt off, unclasping your bra yourself as you sit back on his lap. He cups your breasts, rolling your erect nipples between his thumbs and indexes. You moan again, grinding your hips into his, and he hisses once more.

“You want to taste me?” you ask, head throwing back as he pinches your nipples hard.

“I’d fuck you, but you’re the doctor. Can’t risk fucking up my stitches, huh?” he replies, voice low and husky.

Your core heats up, pussy clenching around nothing. This is a side of him you’ve never seen, though you spy desperation beneath it. Like he thinks he doesn’t have forever, when it comes to you.

He’s right. Because tomorrow, you’ll have to go back into town, into the hellscape you call home. What will be left of the two of you then?

So when he tugs at your pants, you give in and get up, taking off your pants and panties in one swift motion. You step out of them, blood heating up by the way he’s looking at you through half-lidded eyes, gaze burning on you.

You have half a thought that you could probably ride him instead of his face, but when you see his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips, making them glisten in the candlelight, you need to know what it’ll feel like against you.

So you straddle his face as he guides you down, large hands pushing on your thighs until your pussy is a hairsbreadth away from his lips. He blows on it, and your eyes shut with sensitivity. You clutch the cushion of the couch, hoping it’ll help steady you, but the moment his tongue flicks at your clit, you realize nothing will be able to steady you. Yet you still hold onto it, especially as he dives his tongue between your folds, lapping up your juice. He moans in contentment, before moving to your clit again. And his tongue is wicked down there, like it knows exactly what you like.

You grab a handful of his hair, grinding into his face. You’re pretty sure he’s chuckling down there, and then he unleashes himself. Sucking hard, alternating circling motions to teasing you with his teeth. You’d expect the latter to hurt, but the way he does it just makes you see stars, and your pussy clenches around nothing again.

San is deadly good with his mouth. Both with crafting lies and pulling moans out of you, and your thighs tighten against his face as he sucks particularly hard, before dipping his tongue inside of you. His nose brushes your clit, and then he forces you to properly sit on him.

The way his tongue moves inside of you, lapping up your juices while opening you up, has you on the brink of an orgasm in no time. Especially as he makes you grind again, holding you tight into place. When one of his hands moves from around your thigh to reach your clit, you cry out, head throwing back.

He’s quick to rub at your sensitive clit, and you grab one of your breasts, massaging it mindlessly before you pinch your nipple, hard, right in time with a skilled swipe of his tongue. Your orgasm meets you there, shaking through you as it explodes in a blinding flash of light. You moan, loudly, something that resembles his name, and he keeps you going, guides you through your high until you cringe with oversensitivity.

Only then does he let you climb off from his face. You stand on wobbly legs, before deciding to sit next to him, and you catch sight of the smirk on his lips. It makes you blush, right as you realize what you’ve just done.

When you realize what kind of sinful activity he’s dragged you in, this time around.

“Gosh,” is all you manage to say.

He chuckles, clearly proud with himself. “That felt good?”

You worry at your bottom lip, eyes going down to the tent in his pants. You want to pleasure him too, to take him in your mouth and make him feel good, but he stops you with a hand wrapped around your wrist.

“Don’t.”

You still and you meet his gaze with slightly-widened eyes. “Why not?”

His features turn somber, haunted, and the heat of the moment passes so quickly you think it might have been a figment of your imagination.

Were you really riding his face just a moment ago?

“Please just lay next to me,” he says, barely even a whisper.

You don’t know a lot of men that would choose cuddling over getting a blowjob, but if that is what he wants, then you’ll give it to him. You lay next to him, glad that the injured side is closer to the couch. That way, you can cuddle up to him, resting your head on his shoulder while he wraps an arm around you.

“Angel,” he murmurs after a time. “You’re a fucking angel. I think you’re my salvation.”

You highly doubt you hold this kind of power, but you don’t want to tell him. Have never been good at weaving beautiful lies for him to believe.

“We should stay here,” he continues. “Forever.”

And you wish you could. Wish reality didn’t exist, didn’t call for you to go back to your regular life like you’ve never been here with him. But you know tomorrow exists, and you’ll have to leave.

“We should have stayed in the field,” you choose to answer. “Under the shooting stars.”

“I wished for a lifetime with you, then,” he admits. “I wished I’d never have to let you go.”

You’d wished for a similar thing, but life is far too cruel to allow a world of first loves.

“Why did you…” you trail off. The question has haunted your sleepless nights for a long time after the break-up. Even years later, you’d still think about it sometimes, wondering if nostalgia would choke you up. “Why did you decide to join the gang?”

He tenses next to you. But you start tracing a mindless circle on his chest, through the shirt, and it distracts him enough for him to reply. “I thought I didn’t have a choice.”

“Did you?”

His voice holds the weight of the world when he says, “I did. And I made the wrong one.”

You want to cry, but you’re older now. You’re not the teenager who thought she was going to die from losing him anymore. You know what living without Choi San is like, and as much as it hurts, you know that it’s doable.

“You made the one you believed was right,” you say carefully. “But I do wish you had made a different one.”

He holds you a little tighter, as if that will make it so tomorrow never comes. “Me too.”

There’s an eternity of flickering candlelight on the ceiling, of the circles you trace on his chest and of your breathings forming a melody. Outside, the wind has died down, and the world is silent except from an occasional cricket braving the world after the storm.

“Where will you go, once you graduate?” he asks, taking you by surprise.

Because he knows. It’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

“As far away from here as I can.”

“I hope you find peace, wherever you go,” he whispers. “I hope you forget all about how we grew up in a hellhole.”

Do you feel bad for saying it? Maybe. But you can’t help saying it anyway. “I will, San.”

And like that rainy day years ago, you think you can see him walk away.

*****

Seven years later

The winter sun is strangely bright, up above. You’d think it will warm you up, but the cold is relentless, violent, and it sneaks into your coat as you walk out of the hospital. You’ve just finished a thirty-hour shift, and you can’t wait to be home.

To take a shower and forget that you’ve lost a patient today.

But you’ve saved another. A young man, with a stab wound in his ribs that should have killed him. But you saved him, stabilized his condition to the point you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Which is the only reason why you’re allowing yourself to leave now.

You’re never able to leave until you know your patients are okay. It’s been that way since your first patient, in a cabin in the woods you’ve done your best to forget.

You’d let San stay, after that weekend. He had given you the number of one of his friends, so you could get some clothes for him, and you’d gone back the next weekend. Bringing him the clothes, making love to him under the moonlight as if that would change the ending.

The following week, you had gone back to find the cabin empty. He’d left a note behind.

I hope I can find you again, wherever you go.

You kept the note. It’s in your bedside table, back at home, in the nice apartment you’ve been able to rent for yourself with all the money you’ve been making now. Enough to pay back student loans from med school, enough to reassure you that never again will you struggle.

You’ve never seen San again after. He hasn’t found you, and you haven’t searched for him. Have only looked up his name a couple of times, in the months following his disappearing, scared you’d find out that he was found dead in a ditch. But his name never came up, and you wondered if he had managed to escape, if he had managed to find a place where Bangtan couldn’t reach him.

You found peace, on your side of the country. Life is kinder here, though it still holds the same atrocities. You wonder if it’s the novelty of the city, or maybe if you’ve just grown old enough to be able to withstand the bad that the world throws your way. It’s hard to tell – you haven’t kept contact with anyone from back home, except Jae-on.

Jae-on, who’s moved with you when you’ve decided to come here, like he said he would. Jae-on, who asked you to marry him in late October, and you said yes. The ring sits heavy on your finger, and you mindlessly play with it.

In another world, you would already be married to Choi San. Sometimes, you catch glimpses of that world – a piercing gaze in the morning, a smile and a kiss to your temple. Talks about angels, children screaming in happiness. In another world, you’d be pregnant again, waiting patiently to add another piece of you and him to this world.

It’s fun to think about, sometimes, but you’ve been good at forgetting. Like you told him you would – most times, you’ve forgotten all about Choi San.

But today, you had a patient that reminded you of him. So you allow yourself to feel, you allow yourself to think about that note tucked in the bottom drawer of your bedside table, hidden under the thick socks you never use.

You allow yourself to think about the cabin in the woods, about the field where you would have gotten married had you been in that picturesque world you like to imagine. You think about laser quests and first kiss and rainy days and meteors. You think about summer, about wildflowers and him.

You’re so lost in thought you miss your stop home, and you begrudgingly get out at the next one. You’re tired, and your hands are shaking as you pull your phone out of your tote bag, wanting to text Jae-on that you’re going to be home late because you missed your stop. You walk to the other side of the tracks, sighing when you see a five-minutes wait for the next subway.

At least the sun is high in the sky, even though it is dreadfully cold. You shiver, putting your phone back in your tote bag so you can hide your hands in your sleeves again, hoping it’ll preserve them from the cold.

In your exhaustion, you forgot your gloves back at the hospital, you realize. It’s strange that you only realize now, and you reckon you really need to sleep, because your brain isn’t even working right anymore.

You sigh, glancing at the display showing the time. Still four minutes to wait. You think at this rhythm you might freeze in your spot before the next subway comes. You try to hide your face in the lapel of your coat, but a movement on the other platform attracts your gaze.

A man is helping an older woman climb down the stairs. She’s speaking loudly, which might be what attracted your gaze in the first place. You follow them as they walk down the stairs, and then when the man turns towards you, you meet his piercing gaze.

He smiles, and you realize that maybe, all those years ago, he was not spinning lies to you after all.

☆☆☆☆☆

Gosh yeahhh rereading it had me ralize that it is a lot sadder than I remembered it to be. At least we got an open ending ... :') What did we think? Should I write about other groups more often? Let me know what you think! All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate

Taglist:

@btsborahaee

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captain-joongz · 3 months

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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

jeong yunho

♤ the drill by @byuntrash101

big dick!yunho, kinda fluffy and sweet

kang yeosang

◇ let's play a game by @anyamaris

yeosang x reader x soobin (txt), friends to lovers, primal play

choi san

♧ howling to your moon by @essenteez

established relationship, smut

☆ oh he's good by @yoongiseesawmp3

part of church boy series, bad boy (?) san kinda

♤ pornstar!san by @orgverse

camboy/camgirl au, live stream sex, hinted ateez x reader

◇ incubus: coming of age by @byuntrash101

incubus!san, kinda slowburn

♧ moll by @last-words-ofashootingstar

1920s mafia, corrupt police officer!san, dark, yandere, manipulation

song mingi

☆ roommate by @essenteez

roommates to lovers, horny mingi

♤ a taste of desire by @solfiera

college au, brother's best friend!mingi

jeong wooyoung

◇ not on my watch by @remedyx

christmas time, getting together thanks to mistletoe, fluffy

♧ 5 weeks by @setsugekka

idol!wooyoung x stylist!reader, coworkers to lovers, woo is an annoying little shit (affectionate)

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 BTS, TxT, Stray Kids, Seventeen, NCT rec list

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melancholy-of-nadia · 10 months

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Distraction (m) | myg

title: Distraction pairing: yoongi x f. reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; Agust D Universe (AgustDverse?) specifically in the Haegeum Universe ; Gang Leader / Mafia AU summary: After a series of circumstances leads you to be the assistant/right-hand woman of Bangkok's local thief/gang leader Min Suga, you're diligent in fulfilling your role in helping him take down Detective (& Underground Mafia Boss) Agust D. What you didn't expect in this role, was to catch your own boss reading p*rngraphic material during his free time and finding out there are consequences to distracting him. warnings: dirty talk, hair pulling, slight riding, fingering, breast play, nipple sucking, slight body worship if you squint, COCKWARMING, orgasm denial kinda, she's being punished, There's two Yoongis and Thief ver. is Suga/Yoongi while the Mafia Boss is Agust D IM PUTTING A WARNING FOR THESE MEN ARE DANGEROUS note: this is my first time ever writing a bts fic AND smut in a fic. I've written fics 10 years ago for different fandoms and i never thought I'd be doing this again but I got too stuck on this idea that I needed to LET IT OUT. shout out to my beta reader @daegudrama for beta reading and being a great supporter. Idk if I'll ever expand on this fic but here it is. FEEDBACK & Comments are much appreciated !! total word count: 3.6k drop date: july 1st 2023, 12:00pm pst CROSS POSTED ON AO3 here (honeyjamjoon is my user on there) - -

You stood at the entrance of Suga's run-down, yet aesthetically-looking office in the heart of Bangkok’s Chinatown.

After an abundance of incidents, you begun working as his assistant and right-hand woman in his underground operations to take down Asia Pacific Police Detective Agust D, who moonlights as a mafia leader on the down low. A mafia leader who looks exactly like him. Someone you used to be acquainted with at some point.

As you pushed open the ornate wooden door slightly, you found Suga lying down on the sofa, engrossed in an erotic women's magazine. His face adorned with his signature mischievous smirk as he turned a few pages. Men, you thought to yourself while trying to prevent a scoff from coming out your lips.

"Yoongi," you called out, your voice cutting through the silence of the room. Since you two were closer compared to his other men, you called out to him by his real name often.

Startled, Yoongi quickly closed the magazine and tossed it aside, his expression shifting to one of mild annoyance. "Hey doll, can't you knock? I was in the middle of something." Doll, his endearing nickname for you always made you feel some type of way.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence as you crossed my arms. "Oh, I'm sorry, Boss. I didn't know reading Playboy magazines was part of your daily agenda." you commented sarcastically, rolling your eyes in the process.

Yoongi's cheeks flushed slightly, caught red-handed by his sharp-witted assistant. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "It's...research. Yeah, research on...current trends."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his unusually flustered response. You sauntered closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, Boss, if you're done 'researching,' perhaps we can focus on more pressing matters?"

Yoongi let out a deep sigh, realizing he had been caught in his moment of leisure. "You're right, doll. Let's get down to business.” He moved from his position and straightened up his posture, all business-mode Suga once again. “What's the latest update on Agust?"

As you provided a detailed report on Agust D’s actions, you couldn't help but notice a twinkle of amusement in Yoongi's eyes. He had always been a man of few words, but his gaze held a silent appreciation for your wit and fearlessness in this line of work. Since meeting Yoongi, your professional relationship with him had always been one of mutual respect and trust, despite the dark world you both inhabited.

"You've done well, doll," Yoongi finally acknowledged at the end of your report, his voice laced with admiration. "I appreciate your dedication in doing this. This isn’t easy work, especially with so many eyes and ears working for Agust."

Your heart swelled with pride, knowing that your efforts were recognized by your boss, your leader. However, you know you can’t be feeling a certain type of way over his innocent comments. You took a step closer, your voice lowering to a whisper. "Boss, may I remind you that there are eyes and ears on you too? It's crucial to maintain a certain level of decorum and professionalism."

Yoongi's lips curled into a sly side smile, his gaze locking with yours. "You're absolutely right. We should be more careful, especially when it comes to our private activities."

Your eyes widened in realization, understanding the underlying meaning in Yoongi's words. He can’t be trying to insinuate something, right? Being the brat you are, you decided to play along with his statement . A playful grin spread across your face as you sat on the opposite side of the sofa, crossing your arms once again.

"Well, Boss, if you're looking for some 'private activities,' you could always start by hiring a proper assistant to keep you entertained."

Yoongi's eyebrows shot up, surprised by your audacity. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned back on the sofa. "Is that so? And who would you recommend for the position?"

You pretended to ponder for a moment, "Perhaps someone who knows your every move, can anticipate your needs, and can effortlessly keep you on your toes…”

“Someone like… you?" Yoongi smirked as he leaned closer, his voice filled with mischief. Your cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and shock that he played this far into your game. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll have to interview you for the position."

Damn, he got you cornered. Was this a dream, you thought to yourself. Usually when you’d have playful banter with Yoongi, he’d edge you on with his words and then immediately move onto business. But right now you’re left speechless.

“Cat got your tongue?” He chuckled. Funny words coming from the same man who looked and acted like a cat himself at times.

“N-No..just.. dumbfounded.” You stumbled on your nervous response before giggling, “You got me good, Yoongi.” And this is where the game ended, or so you thought.

Yoongi locked eyes with you as he reached out and gently grasped your trembling hand. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, causing your breath to hitch. He tugged your hand gently, coaxing you to move closer to him.

"Doll," he said softly, his tone laced with a mix of authority and tenderness. "There's no need to get so shy around me all of a sudden."

Feeling a mixture of panic and excitement, you allowed Yoongi to guide you closer until you stood right in front of him. In a swift yet gentle motion, Yoongi pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddled him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you found yourself nestled against him, his arms wrapped protectively around your waist.

Yoongi's voice, now filled with a soothing warmth, resonated in your ear. "You may act bratty and shy, doll, but I can see through your facade. I know you're into this” He used one hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “And I'm more than happy to oblige."

Your eyes widened, breath catching in your throat at his bold words. Yet, you couldn't deny the exhilarating truth behind them. A mix of embarrassment and desire coursed through your veins as you looked into Yoongi's eyes, your own filled with a mix of uncertainty and longing. You’ve been waiting for a moment like this for so long, but it felt silly to even believe it could happen one day. Let alone on a day where you catch Yoongi looking at porn. Sounds too good to be true.

In that moment, Yoongi tightened his hold on you and gently lifted you up a little. He glanced at you wholly, taking in the sight before him. He had always thought you were beautiful since the first day you encountered him in the night market while he was being chased by Agust D’s men. He too, didn’t imagine he’d have you to himself, but somehow the sexual frustration of not having time to pleasure himself pushed a button in him to try to make a move.

He continued his movements by sliding his hands above your waist, approaching the peaks of your breasts. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine, and a blush crept across your cheeks. He looked at you to see if you were okay with moving further, to which you locked eyes with him and nodded your confirmation.

He began fondling your breasts slowly, tracing patterns of desire along your trembling flesh. His large hands on you felt so good it elicited soft gasps of pleasure from your lips. But you craved more. You wanted to feel him closer, and it seemed that he felt the same. He moved his hands to unbutton your sleeveless button front shirt from the top to bottom and then removed the garment completely.

Under the shirt revealed a white floral lace bra with a cute pink ribbon in the center. "You know, doll," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, "Your bra is surprisingly cute." The sudden comment from Yoongi made your cheeks flush even more with a mix of embarrassment and pride. “It contrasts your workaholic demeanor. It’s nice to see a new side to you.”

Flushed and with a playful glint in your eyes, you mustered the courage to break free from your momentary shyness. With a teasing smile, you looked at Yoongi and whispered, “Shut up and just keep going,”

To which he smirked up at you and did just as you commanded. He went ahead and removed your bra, exposing your breasts to the slightly colder room temperature causing your nipples to pebble slowly. Yoongi groaned, squeezing your breasts together, and sucked a nipple between his lips.

Mesmerizing sounds left your mouth when he flicked your nipple with his tongue and gently bit down. His tongue swirled around your sensitive areola, teasing it to a stiff peak as he cupped and massaged your other breast with one hand. Holding yourself steady with your fingers weaved through his pretty, long dark hair, you leaned back and arched your chest in toward his face.

You craved more besides these touches to your delicate breasts, but fearing changes in your ‘boss and right-hand man’ relationship with Yoongi had you hesitating further. You moved your hands to the top of his shoulders to push him away from your chest. “Maybe we shouldn’t keep going, Yoongi.” You looked at him, before deciding to look away and continue speaking, “We’ve been focused on taking down Agust D, and if we do this… it might get in the way of our goals.”

Yoongi let out a deep chuckle, “You know goals are one thing, but you think I haven’t noticed the way your body language radiates when you’re around me.”

Your eyes widened, “W-What do you mean?” You weren’t being that obvious about these underlying work crush feelings, have you?

“The way you carry yourself when we tease each other? When you sway your ass in your little skirts to get me riled up?” He lifted a brow up inquisitively, hands drawing circles on your thighs to carry his point home. “I know you too well to know you want this too.”

You scoffed, “Hah? Yoongi, I think all the porn mags and hentai mangas you’ve read during your free time has gotten to your head.” You cupped his face with your small palms (in comparison to his large hands) and looked at him intently. “Maybe it’s time to ease up on that, sir.”

“I’m serious, doll.” He grabbed your hands away from his face and stared harshly, “I'd rather have you in my arms, feeling your warmth against me, than flipping through those Playboy magazines during my free time."

Literally, no words could release from your lips. You’re just awestruck that this carefree man who threw witty and sarcastic remarks on a daily basis could have conjured such a confession to you. You found it endearing in a way, knowing his exterior is just a facade and inside lies a compassionate soul named Min Yoongi.

At this moment, you decided to surrender, allowing yourself to be consumed by the passion growing between the two of you. Embraced in the untamed fire that blazed in Yoongi's eyes. “Then, keep going. Waiting to see how you’ll keep me entertained.”

Quickly, Yoongi's lips descended upon yours, the kiss ignited an unknown sensation inside of you. The taste of anticipation lingered in the air as your mouths melded together in a fervent fight. His lips, soft yet demanding, explored every contour of yours, coaxing forth sighs of pleasure that escaped each others’ entwined breaths.

Feeling a bit assertive, you gently bit his lips as a signal for him to allow your tongue to intertwined with his, to which he smiled and let you in. Both your movements synchronized, a blend of dominance and tenderness. However, which each stroke of his tongue, he claimed your mouth, marking you as his own in a surge of possessiveness that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

As your bodies pressed closer, the intensity and eagerness to have him inside you grew. You once again let your fingers find solace in the soft strands of Yoongi's hair, tugging a bit which he responded to with a groan. Breaths mingling with the heady mix of desire that filled the room. Your hips meet Yoongi’s hard cock, visibly straining against his demin jeans, as you begin lightly grinding against him, needing to relieve yourself of this feeling blooming in your abdomen.

However, unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had other plans in mind. He suddenly held down your thighs to prevent you from moving further. You whine at him, frustrated.

“Doll, I’m not gonna fully give you what you want right now.” The mischievous glint in his gaze betrayed his desire for retribution. He saw an opportunity to playfully punish you for catching him indulging in the guilty pleasure of his magazine. “Since you interrupted me earlier, I’m only going to let you sit on my cock as punishment. No riding.”

“Are you serious right now–” You paused, Yoongi lifting an inquisitive brow up in response. If you kept arguing with him, his stubborn self will deprive you of everything at this moment, his desires be damned. The thing you didn’t need right now was for him to command you to watch him jerk off or leave the room and go find someone else to fulfill his needs. “...Fine, Boss. Your wish is…my command.” You sighed, gripping his shoulders.

“Condom?”

“No, it’s okay. I take birth control.” He eyed you intently. “NOT for what you think. I take it to regulate my cycle.” You responded, annoyed while he chuckled. Not like you had the time to be fucking people left and right in this high stakes job you had. You take your role very seriously, mind him.

He lifted you so he’s able to lift his own hips up to pull his pants down. He pulled his dick out and you stared at how it sprung up against his stomach, almost to full hardness already. It’s so thick and fat, you thought to yourself. You had imagined how he’d look underneath his clothes, but your thoughts never compared to the [reality of his] pale pink dick with small drops of precum at the top of the head. Yoongi took note of your glances and exhaled harshly. He slid his hands up your thighs to the hem of your skirt and pulled it to where your pink striped panties came into his sight.

“You’re seriously so cute, you know that?” You mumbled a shut up as your cheeks reddened from his continued compliments. He pushed your panties to the side, placing two fingers teasingly at your entrance, collecting the wetness that you already displayed. "Do you need to be prepped more? Or can you take my cock without it?" He locked eyes with you as he slipped his two fingers easily in, quickly causing your walls to tighten around his digits.

“I-It’s fine, Yoongi,” You moaned his name quietly. You knew you were wet enough from the previous motions that you could do without it. “Just put your dick inside me already so we can call it a day.." He raised his eyebrows at your commanding attitude. "P-Please..”

Chuckling, he pulled his fingers out and grabbed your hips again. He took his throbbing dick in his hand and lined it up to your entrance. He sunk you down, slowly taking him in inch by inch, the thickness stretched you out more than you expected. You moaned out as quietly as you could, still struggling to fit all of him inside you. Yoongi kept a hand on your hips to guide you down, while the other caressed your back in reassurance.

"Keep going, love." Love? A new nickname? "You’re doing great." He praised, while trying his best to hold in beautiful sounds of his own.

With his encouraging words, you took a deep breath and moved down until your pussy had swallowed him whole, his head right against your cervix. "Just right…you did it," Yoongi cooed. He cupped your cheeks and made you look at him. "How does this feel?"

You’re starting to lose composure already, "I-It feels g-good…" you stammered, dragging out the last word while letting your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"Great, but..” He stretched out to grab the D-Grayman vol 22 manga lying around on the table “Don’t you dare move. I’m gonna read."

“I can’t believe you… you sick, sick man.” His laughter rolled through him, which involuntarily created a ripple of pleasure building within your cunt, a warmth growing again and spreading through your every nerves. Besides the fact that his warm cock was snug within you, filling you more completely than a dildo of yours could ever, you couldn't recall another moment where you’ve felt so content. While at first you were scared of crossing a line in your relationship, you can’t deny this feels just right.

He wrapped his right around your waist, while using his left to hold his book and flip the pages. Perks of having big hands, you wonder what else they could do. You laid your head on his right shoulder, eyes slowly squeezing shut. Maybe you should take a nap.

However, while Yoongi seemed to be nonchalant and relaxed, he was struggling a lot more than you to not say fuck this and fuck you roughly in a cowgirl position. Because just as you were relaxing, suddenly his cock fucking twitched. You gasped, your cunt clenching involuntarily and wrapping tighter around his length. A shiver shot up your spine as you instinctively pushed back on him, taking him even deeper into you from a higher angle.

“Yoongi, I swear..”

“Sorry. That was on me, doll.” He went back to reading before adding on a few minutes later, “I’m tempted to fuck you, but I’ll save it for another time. If I give in now, I’ll probably want to fuck you everywhere and anywhere we go. Want to teach you a lesson.”

“Yoongi!” Your eyes widened and you smacked his back. He chuckled lowly. Pisces men really are lowkey sex freaks. You don’t know what you’d do if this man asks you if he can tie you up with ropes or vice versa. Let’s hope he’s just into vanilla shit for the sake of your sanity,

For the rest of the time, he stayed true to his word and remained resilient. At some point, you drifted off to dreamland, feeling so comfortable and cozy sitting on his dick. You faintly felt a kiss on your temple, though you’re not sure if you dreamed it, or if Yoongi actually did it. You didn’t bother thinking too much about it now.

The next thing you know, you woke up later that afternoon, laying down on the sofa with a blanket covering you. You glanced around to find Yoongi, but he was nowhere in sight. You checked your phone on the table and saw text messages from 35 minutes ago

Yoongi: Hey doll, got a call from joon saying he found the drug operation Agust D is hiding above that one good noodle shop in chinatown. I had to go with him and some of the guys ready to bust it down. I’ll be sure to to get you a bowl of noodles when I’m done.

Yoongi: Extra beef and very spicy, right?

God, you’re actually gonna fall in love with this man. He really does pay attention to the little details about you more than you realized.

You text back knowing he’s probably not going to be back for a bit longer.

Y/N: Yes pls! Don’t forget to bring some chopsticks.

Yoongi: 👍

Not long after, before the sun sunk underneath the horizon, he arrived back to the office holding a bag of take-out food from Asian Beef Noodle shop. “Sorry to keep you waiting. We got everything taken care of.”

Your eyes lit up with admiration as you sat up on the couch, your lips curling into a grateful smile. "Great job, boss."

Yoongi's gaze softened as he placed the tray of noodles on the coffee table in front of you. He took a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. "I appreciate your support, doll. So, I brought these noodles as a small peace offering."

"You're forgiven, I suppose,” You chuckled, voice filled with soft warmth. “Noodles are easily the best way to my heart."

Your playful comment sent a spark of anticipation through Yoongi. He grinned, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Well, I’ll make it up to you later, for being so good. Look forward to tonight," he whispered, his voice laced with a sultry tone.

Your cheeks flushed at the promise in his words, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of desire and excitement. “You’re making me embarrassed,” you sighed, replying further with a sultry voice with anticipation. “But, you better not disappoint. I’ll leave your side!” You joked, both of you laughing at the silliness of this conversation

Despite the fluttering emotions from earlier reawakening from his words, you two continued to share a comfortable silence, the aroma of the noodles filling the air. With a newfound sense of closeness, you two dug into the delicious meal, savoring the flavors and basking in the afterglow of their earlier passion. It was a moment of shared contentment, where the chaos of both your lives momentarily faded away, leaving only the warmth of connection and comfort of each other's presence.

#yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #min yoongi #suga x reader #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #haegeum #daechwita #agust d universe #yoongi smut #bts smut #agust d

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jessikahathaway · 6 months

Text

Lose Your Head - PJM (M)

Written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween Collab for @sailoryooons

A/N: Hali!!! I hope you enjoy this fic! It has been my absolute pleasure to write it for you <3 Happy Haliween!!

The collage was made by yours truly.

Special thanks to my bestie Ryn @queenofthedamnit for betaing this fic for me so I could post in time!

Title: Lose Your Head

Pairing: Park Jimin x F!Reader

Summary: As a constable’s assistant you have several duties to him and the police force. Not only as his assistant, but as his dear friend. However, when an ominous summoning sends you and Jimin both to the town of Sleepy Hollow, you fear there might be more at play than either of you understand. And feelings that you’d hope to bury for life bubble to the surface...

Genre/AU: Movie!AU, Thriller, SleepyHollow!AU, Romance, Smut

Rating: 21+

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gender Inequality (Due to the time period), Mild Gore (descriptions of blood and decapitations), EDIT: Minor character deaths, Smut Warnings: Virgin!Reader, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), handjob (m!receiving), mild dirty talk.

Words: 19.4k

“Constable Park Jimin!” A page boy yelled from the street. Jimin turned his head from his work and watched as the boy came running in with a sheet of paper. “Sir! A telegram from Sergeant Kim Namjoon from New York City!”

Jimin walked over and smiled kindly at the boy. “Thank you Martin,” he handed a few coins over to him and patted his head.

“Martin!” Your voice called from the desk. “Come here,” you said.

Jimin smiled and watched as Martin ran to your side. “Yes miss!”

You handed over a few pieces of bread that you’d made and a square of cheese as a treat. “These ones didn’t turn out as good as I was hoping, so you take them and share them with your friends, okay?” You said, waggling a finger in teasing jest. You both knew Martin wouldn’t dare take it all for himself. That’s what made him such a good leader of the small but mighty group of page boys for Buffalo and the surrounding areas.

“Yes miss! Thank you miss,” he smiled, taking the bag and waving to you and Jimin from the door before taking off down the road to deliver his next message.

“You spoil him,” Jimin murmured, coming up behind you. You jumped at his proximity for a moment but relaxed quickly. Jimin’s presence has always calmed you.

You two had been friends for years now. Ever since he brought you in off the streets in his youth, you’d been friends.

Now, was friendship the only thing that had developed between the two of you in your almost twenty years together? No... Well, at least not for you. Jimin had grown to be so kind and handsome, if not a little mischievous and devilish all the same, making life incredibly joyous but difficult for you.You didn’t want to make things awkward, and your friendship was the most valuable thing you had. No monetary possession, or romantic affliction, would sway that for you.

With a deep sigh you turned and Jimin was right behind you and his eyes widened at your quick movements. Your faces were close and you could feel the startled breath he let out fan across your face as he stepped back.

“He’s a good kid,” you said with a pointed look.

Jimin smiled and nodded in his agreement. “I trust you,” he said, as he always did. Because you two trusted each other with everything. Jimin was a wealthy constable and came from a family of police officers and other military officials. However, he was an orphan, his father passing away shortly after his birth and his mother dying at the tender age of five. He’d been given his inheritance and a staff at his family’s home and the rest was history. The staff raised the young boy, seeing as how none of his other extended family wanted to take him in.

So when on a walk in the winter of his tenth year in this world, he found you. Only a year or two younger than him, but orphaned as well-except there was no inheritance or family to save you. You’d been on the streets, and unfortunately, it looked like you might die there.

You were sick and shivering outside the tailors shop Jimin frequented for his school uniforms. Jimin looked to his attendant and asked if they had enough tea to share with you. The attendant hadn’t wanted to take you along, but his young master was in charge and honestly, he couldn’t stand to walk past another sick child on the road.

Over the years you’d asked Jimin what made him stop that day, what made him choose you. And his reply was always the same. “I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew that I wanted to help you.”

You looked down and saw the telegram Martin had brought in. “What does it say?” you asked.

Jimin smiled softly, “I don’t know, I haven't read it yet, nosy,” he teased.

You pouted at his teasing and swatted away the hand that tried to pinch your puffy cheeks. “He said, Sergeant, what would a Sergeant be contacting you for all the way out here?”

It was at this time you saw Jimin’s face darken a bit. “I have a feeling they’re dealing with a similar issue we were a year ago, also, my coroner training can be rather useful in certain situations,” he stated.

Your stomach dropped. A year ago, you were chasing a serial killer. You and Jimin both had to scour the morgues, the crime scenes themselves, anywhere and everywhere this person could’ve been. You’d been so worried because Jimin had started receiving threats. It seemed like you were working double time to stay ahead of the serial killer to prevent more murders, not only for the people but for Jimin as well. Although it would make sense. Jimin is an educated man and the chief of the local police force has deferred to Jimin’s expertise several times over. You shouldn’t be surprised that someone else is looking to speak with him as well, and you had your own skill set that would be useful in certain situations.

Jimin got out his letter opener and examined the telegram. You waited patiently, not, for him to fill you in.

His features darkened even more as he set the telegram down for you to see as well.

Dear Mr. Constable,

It has come to my attention that there has been a string of murders out in a small town in southern New York. It has baffled the local police enforcement as well as some of my best men. I believe you and your assistant will be better suited to help the people of Sleepy Hollow. Attached are train tickets to come to the city to get a full debriefing for you and your assistant both.

Please don’t delay in this matter, as there is much more at work than I think anyone truly understands.

Signed: Sgt. Kim Namjoon, NYPD.

“What do we do?” you asked, worry and unease filling your chest.

“We're going to New York City,” Jimin said softly. “He wouldn’t issue a summons like this without being in desperate need. The NYPD already doesn’t like us, I’m sure he’s not exactly thrilled to be calling on us regardless. But if we can lend him our expertise then the very least we can do is go and hear him out.”

Your temper flared at the mention of their dislike towards Jimin and yourself. “Just because we caught their killer doesn’t give them the right to be rude or unkind to us,” you said.

Jimin grabbed your wrist and pulled you in closely. “People don’t like to be made fools of either, Y/N, please try to behave yourself when we go? I don’t want them putting a mark on your back too,” he asked.

You sighed deeply, knowing it wasn’t going to be good picking a fight with the NYPD, even if you thought that they were being far too negligent in their own investigations. Jimin was right when he said they wouldn’t call without being in need. You nodded, letting the anger dissolve at least for now.

“Go pack your things sweets, I’ll shut down the shop,” he said with a squeeze to your hand, letting go and heading towards the front. Ah, that nickname. He’d started calling you sweets when you were little. Even as a young girl you’d loved sweets, candies and pastries. So the name had stuck. Even now it brought heat to your face as you walked up the steps to your living quarters and did as previously instructed. You and Jimin usually packed light for these things so you just went about your usual methods.

When you were rummaging through Jimin’s drawers for some socks you noticed a letter from a family friend listing off potential wives. Your throat tightened. Jimin hadn’t mentioned his search for a wife starting, or one even being a thought in his mind. No doubt people were being nosy and talking about things they had no knowledge of-

“Y/N, what have I told you about snooping?” Jimin sighed, leaning against the wall of his room. Your back straightened comically and Jimin couldn’t help the laughter that peeled out of him.

You had always been such a terrible snoop, Jimin thought it was more curiosity than anything dangerous. And oftentimes you stumbled upon things by happenstance. You turned with a guilty expression and handed the papers to Jimin. When his eyes found what you’d discovered his face hardened a bit.

“People love sticking their noses in my business,” he said, voice tight. He looked at you then, placing his hand on your head. You stared into his eyes and there was something he wanted to say. You could tell, his eyes were screaming unspoken words to you-but there was a ring at the doorbell and you knew Jimin ordered a carriage for you both to head to the train station. The moment dissolved as he tossed the letter in the fireplace and you watched as he grabbed the rest of your luggage without a word and headed out the door.

You bit your lip and sighed deeply. Lately, these moments with Jimin had been frequent. These-feelings... Your feelings for him. They were becoming harder and harder to control. Especially when... when other women got involved.

You knew Jimin was going to take a wife. You’ve known for years it wouldn’t be you. And yet? To be confronted with it so blatantly and for him to hide it? You and Jimin might have more secrets between you than you believed, and part of that hurt worse than the idea of another woman coming into the picture.

With quick steps you headed towards the door, grabbing your coat and hat. These thoughts would have to be put in the back of your mind right now. There was something going on and the NYPD was going to have to start explaining themselves.

With that you shut and locked the door, heading down the steps towards the carriage. Jimin was waiting for you patiently and took your coat and helped you into the buggy without a word, but his hand squeezed yours when he sat down. With a knock you were off, but Jimin kept his hand in yours for a while longer. You just let him hold your hand, because truthfully-you needed it too.

The next morning you rolled into New York City and as always, you are astounded by the immensity of the city. Buffalo is decently sized, but nothing on the level of the Big City itself. Jimin had gotten you and him to the NYPD building with minute difficulty, taking your arm in his as he escorted you and himself up the steps to the offices.

The secretary there noticed Jimin’s presence immediately and called for Sergeant Namjoon.

Jimin and you both stood in the waiting room patiently, when he appeared in the space before you.

Sergeant Namjoon has always been a formidable individual. His intensity and severe intellect had him in the higher rankings of the NYPD shortly after his transfer. He was nice enough, but wasted little words on niceties and flattery.

“Constable Park, and your assistant. Thank you for coming here on such short notice,” he said. “Please, my office is this way-I’ll brief you on the situation there.”

Just as you were about to follow Jimin and Sergeant Namjoon, the secretary stopped you. “Sorry miss, you’ll have to stay behind,” she said. “This is a conversation for the men I’m afraid.”

You were ready to argue when Jimin took your wrist. “She is my assistant, she aids me in my investigations-I would rather her come with me so I don’t have to explain everything a second time.”

You looked at the secretary with a smug gaze as she let you pass. Jimin poked your rib and made you wince.

“Don’t look so satisfied you little sprite,” he said softly.

“Sorry,” you said, the tone of your voice revealing you were everything but apologetic. Jimin tried to bite back his smile but it was hard when you were such a shit sometimes. He loved your mischievousness almost as much as your tenderness. But unfortunately, now was not the time for your antics and he really had to focus on this summons for the both of you.

Namjoon led you into his office and shut the door, looking at you both with a deep expression that had you perplexed. What was weighing so heavily on his mind that he reached out to Jimin and you specifically? As far as your last investigation with the NYPD, ah... you thought they’d wanted you two out of their sights.

This must be bad...

The Sergeant took a deep breath before leveling his gaze with Jimin then you. “I didn’t want to summon either of you-let me make that perfectly clear. But my superiors and I agreed that we don’t have the skill set to deal with what is happening in Sleepy Hollow.”

Jimin’s head tilted. “Sleepy Hollow?”

Namjoon nodded. “An isolated town towards Hollow’s Creek in the southern part of the state.”

Your face twisted in confusion. “How did the NYPD get involved in something that is happening way outside your area of operation?”

As much as Jimin wanted to correct your bluntness with the Sergeant of the NYPD, he couldn’t help his own curiosity. And Jimin wasn’t going to extend any extra courtesies, especially with Sergeant Namjoon.

Namjoon looked at you and sighed. “The police in the area requested more professional assistance. So I sent in a few men, and we have more questions than answers at this point.”

“What can I provide that the NYPD doesn’t have access to?” Jimin asked, raising a brow. “Forgive me for asking in such a blunt manner but I’m merely confused.”

You had a feeling you knew what this was about, Jimin no doubt did as well. But Jimin could be rather cruel at times-he wanted Namjoon to admit the weakness in his men and the NYPD. He’d been correct when he said people don’t like to be made fools of.

Jimin is a prime example of his statement.

He was used to being underestimated, he was used to his work being made into a mockery. But the frightening thing about Jimin was his patience. He could wait an infinite amount of time if it was something he really wanted.

Namjoon set his jaw and looked at Jimin with stormy eyes. “My men are baffled with what is happening at Sleepy Hollow. People are being hunted down and losing their heads. Quite literally.”

Your stomach turned at the sound of things. But you swallowed and continued to listen to the briefing. Jimin took notice of your upset but was quick to place his hand on your back to encourage you to sit down. The last time either of you had dealt with something on this scale it took a toll on you.

“Who are our suspects?” Jimin asked.

“We have none.”

Jimin’s brows raised. “No suspects? No one in the town has the prospects or motivations? What about alibis?”

Namjoon slammed his hands on his table, causing a few things to fall and you to jump at his outburst. Jimin, however, was unaffected. His eyes were set on the man in front of him. “I don’t know. We have no leads, no nothing other than a list of my men turning up dead or missing. Too many people have died and we have gotten nothing as a result. I need people of your... expertise.”

He meant the deck.

Your deck.

It was known in a few places that you dabbled in the occult and macabre. Jimin didn’t like to mention it often because he felt it could discredit the genuine work you both do. But you and your tarot cards had been together since the streets, although you’d gotten a few new decks in your time with Jimin. You’d do readings, originally it started as a scam-trying to get money from people so you could eat but eventually, you learned the craft. You managed to look into the art of divination and had found your intuition and the work of the cards had yet to steer you wrong.

When Jimin had discovered them, he was furious with you for working with the deck and the occult. But overtime, when Jimin saw your work with the cards prove its worth over and over again-he finally relented. He only asked that you not do any readings pertaining to him unless it had to do with a case.

His past and his future weren’t for prying in. If you had any questions you could ask. This request was more than fair, so you abided by it. That didn’t mean you weren’t curious.

When you and Jimin had worked with the NYPD the last time, Namjoon had discovered your secret. Originally he wanted you and Jimin off the case, but thankfully your cards had led you and the NYPD right to the killer.

But they had made it fairly clear from then on they would want as little to do with you and Jimin as humanly possible. Whatever is happening at Sleepy Hollow, it was nothing good.

“You made it fairly clear to us that we weren’t going to be aiding you in any investigations moving forward-” Jimin began when Namjoon cut him off.

“Regular investigations. This-This case... She has insight into the occult that no one working for the police department does. I need you both on this case, I can’t lose anymore men blindly,” Namjoon stated. “Something evil is at work in Sleepy Hollow. Truly evil.”

Jimin’s face hardened. “Then we aren’t going, I’m not risking our lives for people that don’t appreciate what she and I can do together.”

You stood then, placing your hands on Jimin’s arm. “We should go.”

Both men looked at you in shock. “Y/N-”

“The people in Sleepy Hollow need help, and if what Sergeant Namjoon is saying is true then we need to get there sooner rather than later. The longer things like this are left unchecked the harder it is for them to return to normal.”

Jimin looked into your eyes and if you weren’t accustomed to his deep and searching gaze you would turn hot at the action. But you mirrored his expression. Eyes passionate and burning like they always were. You had a strong moral compass and Jimin knew you wanted to help these people if you could.

You wanted to pay back what he’d done for you all those years ago. You want to help those who cannot help themselves and that is one of the several things Jimin admires about you. You easily could’ve lived your days out as his friend-he’d even planned on helping you get a husband at one point but you’d quickly told him you weren’t interested in marrying.

“Who wants someone that can tell if our relationship is going to be happy or miserable? Someone who can ‘see the future’. Or who will know what our child is before the doctor? People don’t like the occult or those associated with it.”

Jimin remembers how sad he felt that day. How lonely your eyes looked. But you were stronger than anyone he’d ever met.

So when your passionate gaze pleaded with his now-he relented.

“Sergeant Namjoon, I would like a full debriefing file for me and Y/N. We will head to Sleepy Hollow by the week’s end?”

The Sergeant nodded. “Yes. I will have everything prepared and sent to your accommodations.”

“Very well then, come along sweets, you said you wanted to visit a bakery while we were here in the City,” Jimin said, wrapping your arm around his as he gave a polite, but stiff, nod to Namjoon before leading you out the door.

“Yes! I want to try a New York cheesecake,” you said with joy, looking at Jimin with a smile.

One he tried to return. But it did not reach his eyes.

It was the night before you were to travel to Sleepy Hollow. The train left early in the morning, but you couldn’t help but want to meditate on your deck for a while before you departed.

With the window open and the moonlight streaming into the room you sat on the floor with your deck sitting in your lap. You inhaled deeply and just let the energy and light of the moon fill you. Sitting in the still and darkness of night had always brought you a serenity you couldn’t quite understand to this day.

It just felt right to sit amongst the stars and feel the energy of the world and people around you working together. But then the energy shifted and you turned your head with a smile. “You know you can’t sneak around with me.”

“Doesn’t stop me from trying,” Jimin said with a smile, walking towards you. He handed you your dressing gown to cover your nightdress and you wrapped it around yourself.

“What do you need?”

Jimin’s face faltered for a moment. “I can’t just come sit with you?”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “Not when you look like that, come sit and tell me what’s bothering you.”

Jimin moved with you to the bed and sat with you. You crossed your legs and set the deck back in its container until you packed them in the morning. Jimin’s eyes were locked on the cards and you raised a brow.

Your friend sighed deeply and rested his head in your lap. You weren’t surprised by the action, Jimin was very physically affectionate, even if it could be frowned upon by others. You two were unmarried and merely friends. This level of intimacy between the two of you could be deemed inappropriate. But you and Jimin had never played by societal norms, why start now?

“I’m worried. Once we arrive the killer will very likely add us to their roster,” he said, head resting on your thigh. You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled.

“Occupational hazard.”

He grabbed your hand and sat up quickly. You jolted at the sudden motion and Jimin’s face was very close to yours. “I can’t allow anything to happen to you.”

“What makes you think something is going to happen to us?” You asked, brushing some of his hair away from his face. Jimin put your hands together in your lap, looking at them with an unreadable expression.

“The last time we used your cards in an investigation you almost died. They almost killed you.”

You were hoping he wouldn’t worry about that. But of course, Jimin has a tender heart and doesn’t want anything to happen to those he cares about. With a gentle squeeze to his hands you shook your head.

“I didn’t listen to the cards correctly, that’s my fault Jimin. It wasn’t intentional, accidents happen-”

“They can’t happen, Y/N, I don’t want you to use them unless specifically related to the case,” he said.

You scoffed. “Jimin, honestly,” you took your hands away from his and you could tell he was upset. “What’s got you all worked up about the cards?”

“They’re dangerous-”

“Jimin, my cards are an extension of me,” you explained. “They are only dangerous if I am using them for improper means. Which I’m not. They are only as dangerous as I make them.”

“My words stand. I don’t want you using them unless they are being used for the case. That’s final.” He said firmly.

You gaped at him. “What the hell is the matter with you? Jimin, if I don’t use the cards then my readings could be less accurate. That’s more dangerous than me meditating with them.”

Jimin stood and walked to the door. “Those damn things have brought us nothing but trouble when you use them.”

The pain from his words ripped right through your chest. “We’ve caught killers because of that deck!”

“I’ve almost lost you because of that fucking deck!” He said, chest heaving.

You two haven’t fought like this in years. Probably since the time Jimin found them in your room the very first time.

That’s when you finally saw it.

The fear in his eyes. The fear that was wrapping around him and surrounding his heart. He was hesitant to use the cards again after you led yourself right into a killer’s path. You’d just about been taken when Jimin and the NYPD showed up and stopped the killer in his tracks.

“Jimin...”

“I can’t lose you, Y/N, it would break me. I’d have nothing,” he said, holding your face. When he said things like this it made your heart ache. You wished he would say these things to you under different circumstances.

“You won’t lose me, Jimin. I promise. We’ll be careful. I’ll keep the cards discreet alright? We’ll pretend I don’t even have them, only you and I will know,” you said, holding his wrists.

Jimin breathed in deeply. Resting his forehead on yours. Your heart stammered in your chest as he closed in and brought you in for a tight embrace. His one arm wrapped around your shoulders as the other pulled you in by your lower back, molding your fronts together. “Please... please be careful. This isn’t a normal case, the NYPD is even frightened of whatever we are about to embark on. I don’t know how dangerous this is. Everything in me is saying we shouldn’t tamper with this.” His words were muffled by your skin.

His hot breath was trailing over your flesh and making your mind race. But you swallowed and answered as calmly as you could.

“We will do this as we have done everything in our lives... together,” you promised, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him back.

You two stayed like that for a while until you were too tired to remain awake any longer. Jimin departed with one final hug and went back to his room.

After his warmth was gone the chill of the night settled in again. You found yourself wishing he’d stayed. Even as you fell asleep, you wished for his frame next to yours.

You stood at the ticket window with Jimin as he gathered your train passes. He tucked them in his pocket and gathered your things along with his on the cart. You headed towards the train with his arm in yours and when your luggage was taken by a member of the staff Jimin helped you up into the train.

Your cabin was private, your personal things being placed above you as the stewardess came around and asked if you’d like anything to eat or drink.

The trip to Sleepy Hollow was a long one, making you wonder more and more why the NYPD even got involved. Normally they wouldn’t have the jurisdiction to work outside of the city let alone damn near out of the state. They claimed the townspeople asked for help, but what was so bad that they couldn’t just go to the nearest city’s police?

“Did you read the briefing packet?” Jimin asked, looking out the window.

You yawned and shook your head. “No, I was planning to read it on the way there.”

Jimin smiled then. “You were huh? You’ve always slept on trains, what made you think this was going to be different?” he nudged your foot with his.

With a pout you pulled the paperwork out of your bag and started looking over it.

That’s when you saw it.

The photos.

The quality is never good but you clearly saw the bodies. They were grotesque and you felt your stomach turn at the sight but you knew you needed to see more if you were going to understand.

Jimin was quiet, resting his eyes as you moved through the packet with curiosity.

Five victims from the town thus far. All deaths have been ruled as decapitations. The heads have yet to be recovered.

Victim’s occupations and ages all vary.

23 - Butcher’s Son

61 - Town Treasurer

19 - Stable Hand

45 - Seamstress

33 - Town Crier

Along with six members of the New York Police Department - three of which have yet to be recovered at the time of this briefing.

All of this information was pertinent but somehow, it felt like there was something very big missing from all of it.

“Jimin? Did you see any suspects? I know Namjoon mentioned they didn’t have anything solid, but I didn’t anticipate they had none whatsoever...”

A deep sigh came from your friend. “No, I didn’t. That’s one of the first things we need to assess when we arrive. Who are our possible suspects and how were they able to remain undetected for so long?”

You nodded. “Where are we staying?” you asked.

“The local innkeep as said we are more than welcome to stay if we are helping them with the case. He’s got a room set up for us.” Jimin stated.

“A room?” you raised a brow.

“The inn only has so many rooms Y/N, is sharing with me really so terrible?” he teased.

“I suppose not, we did it a lot when we were younger,” you smiled at the memories.

Jimin chuckled. “Things were a lot simpler then huh?” He looked at you and you wished you could know what he was thinking at that moment. Jimin could be so expressive, but only when he wanted to be. In a flash he could hide his true emotions and thoughts behind a mask of ambiguity. Even being his friend as long as you had didn’t always help.

“They were,” you said with a soft tone.

The train whistle blew and you knew that you were coming up on your next stop. With a yawn you placed the packet down. If you agonized over it even more you weren’t going to have any breakthroughs. So you rested against the wall of the train and the seat, letting your head and neck grow heavy as sleep took you.

You and Jimin got off the train in the nearest city and had to travel in a carriage the rest of the way. It was cramped, and your luggage hung precariously off the back of the warped wooden exterior but you kept your mouth shut.

The woods around the town made your skin prickle with nerves. Jimin seemed to sense your unease and placed his hand on your shoulder. “It’s alright, sweets...”

When you were younger you’d gotten lost in the woods. Jimin and you had been playing hide and seek in the woods near his family’s summer home. It was dark when Jimin and his nanny found you. Curled up in a tree trunk crying. Ever since then, the woods terrified you. You swallowed thickly and looked at Jimin with a weak smile.

He brushed some of your hair away from your face and patted your cheek. “Steady, Y/N, we’re coming into town.”

You watched as you emerged from the woods into a small clearing. The town was surrounded by the woods and the houses all seemed old and decrepit. The people watched as the carriage approached. It pulled towards the stables and a group of people came around to greet you and Jimin both.

The door opened and Jimin helped you out.

“Welcome, Constable Park and your... wife?” A man with graying hair and soft blue eyes looked between you and Jimin.

Jimin shook his head. “No, this is Y/N, she is my assistant and helps me with my cases.”

A young woman towards the back of the group had immediately taken notice of Jimin and you fought the urge to hold him tighter.

“Apologies, I am the mayor-Douglas Hart,” he introduced himself, shaking Jimin’s hand and giving yours a kind squeeze. “This is my daughter, Zalia Hart,” he said, bringing the young woman to the front.

She curtsied to Jimin and gave him a bright smile. “Hello Constable.”

You could see Jimin’s eyes examining her and you felt a lump form in your throat.

“Zalia has been helping me during this entire process, since my late wife, her mother, passed away she’s been in my care, you see. I am eternally grateful for her help and she has agreed to cooperate fully with you and your investigation here,” the Mr. Hart explained.

“I’m happy to help our people Papa, don’t worry,” she said, expression soft as she looked at her father.

Jimin nodded. “We are grateful to any and all help you can offer us. Our first priority is seeing all the evidence that has been collected and I want to see all of the bodies,” he stated.

“Can we get settled first?” you asked, raising a brow at him.

Jimin’s eyes locked on yours and he nodded. “Yes, let’s get our things inside and then we can start looking around a bit more.”

Mr. Hart and Zalia both nodded. “Please, get settled, Zalia will come and collect you a bit later,” the mayor said.

You and Jimin headed towards the inn where the keeper gave you a polite nod. “Hello constable,” he greeted.

“How did you know I was the constable?” Jimin asked.

“We don’t exactly get a lot of new faces around town. Well, except for recently. Unfortunate the thing that’s bringing people to our home is so horrific,” he said, face not matching his words.

You took note of him immediately.

“Well, let me introduce myself properly,” Jimin said. “I am Constable Park Jimin and this is my assistant Y/N,” he said. You gave the innkeep a smile, one he didn’t return.

“A pleasure. I’m Jeremy Weaver, my wife is Adelaide Weaver, she’s out currently but if you need anything during your stay let her or myself know. Please, let me show you to your room,” he said, walking out from behind the counter to lead them up the steps. “Watch your feet, these steps are a little warped,” he stated.

You and Jimin climbed the steps and soon a few rooms came into view. There was another set of stairs that you assumed lead to the attic but when the innkeep started heading up them you tilted your head.

Jimin also paused at the change in direction and Jeremy took notice. “Our regular rooms are all filled up right now, but we have a bigger room in the attic that can house you both more... comfortably.”

He continued up the stairs and you and Jimin followed him.

“I apologize for the confusion but there’s only one bed, we were under the impression your assistant was... well, we’ll get another set of linens up here and see if the old cot is still salvageable,” he stated.

Jimin and you looked around. The room wasn’t massive, but it would be enough for you and him for the time being.

“Meals are served at eight, noon and five respectively. Your room and board has already been paid for so you are welcome to eat downstairs or you can take your meals up here. Just let Adelaide know. I’ll go down and start helping them get your luggage up here. If you need anything let me know,” he said, heading out of the room and.

You sighed and set your bag on the bed and looked at Jimin. “He’s a little off, don’t you think?” you asked.

“I think we’ve been traveling for almost an entire day, and I am exhausted,” he said, sitting heavily on the bed and rubbing his face. You moved next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jimin has never traveled well, the whole experience has always been rather stressful for him.

“Do you want me to do the initial work?” you offered, squeezing his shoulder.

“No, I’ll be fine, I'm just... Can we do a reading tonight? For the case?” Jimin asked.

You raised a brow. His outburst about the cards last night made you hesitant to even mention a reading today. “What do you want the cards to reveal to you?” you asked instead, sitting down next to him.

“I want to narrow our field when it comes to our suspects. Could the cards bring it down to three?” He questioned.

“I don’t know if I have enough information on the town and the energy here yet... I could possibly get five. But three this soon isn’t likely,” you said. It was odd for him to request the cards so quickly.

He nodded thoughtfully before standing up. A knock came to the door and Jeremy had returned with a stable hand as well as your luggage. Though there was no cot.

“We weren’t able to find that old cot, we can put some blankets on the floor for someone,” he stated.

Jimin sighed, his expression weary. “That’ll be fine, Mr. Weaver, my assistant and I will be departing for the time being,” he stated. “Come along, Y/N, we’ve got some preliminary investigating to do.”

You stood, heading to him as you both excused yourselves from Jeremy and the stable hand. The pair of you made it down the steps and out into the open air once more when Zalia’s kind face made an appearance.

“Hello Constable! My father had me wait for you and your assistant to escort you both to the cemetery. We’ve already buried some of the deceased, but Mrs. Rellian and Gregor have yet to have their funerals. My father said you would want to see them,” she said.

“Yes, thank you Miss Hart-”

“Zalia, please,” she said with a beautiful smile.

Jimin usually didn’t get very personal during your cases. He never called people by their first names to avoid attachment-

“Zalia,” he corrected. “Please, lead the way.”

You wanted to hide the sour expression on your face, but Jimin quickly picked up on your lack of subtlety. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

With a sniff you walked forwards. “Nothing, we’ve got work to do,” you said, hiking up your skirts a bit as you stalked after the radiant young woman. She’d done nothing wrong and yet you couldn’t help the fire that lit in your chest at the expression she wore. Eyes glimmering when she looked at Jimin. And he’d said her name. He never said anyone’s names! It was too personal!

With a deep sigh, Jimin followed after you. You were unpredictable sometimes. Jimin usually enjoyed your spontaneity, but right now it was irritating him more than anything. You were correct you both had work to do, but you never worked well if you were upset. It clouded your judgment. And Jimin didn’t have time for you to throw a fit when you’d only just arrived today.

He managed to match your pace as you followed after Zalia.

“Y/N, are you really not going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, voice low.

You gave him a warning glance. “There’s nothing to discuss,” you urged.

Jimin didn’t look convinced but you approached a small graveyard just inside the treeline. You reached back for Jimin unconsciously and he was there, even if you two would spat here and there-it didn’t matter. At the end of the day he had your back and you had his.

His hand squeezed yours and he led you towards the small hut just beside the graveyard they were no doubt using for a morgue and preparation area for the deceased. Zalia stood outside and Mr. Hart was waiting in the doorway speaking with someone who was still inside the hut.

Jimin sighed as he handed you a cloth to cover your nose and mouth with to ease the worst of the smell. Even from here the sweet and sour stench of death hung heavy in the air. As you approached a tall but skinny man stood just inside the hut with an apron and gloves on.

“Constable, Miss Y/N,” Mr. Hart greeted. “This is Doctor Stewart, he’s been our town’s physician for years. He even delivered Zalia,” he said, eyes showing a tenderness towards the young woman who smiled at him.

She seemed chipper as ever.

“Doctor,” Jimin greeted. “I have coroner's training, and my assistant has a keen eye for observation. Would you be able to show us these last two individuals that have yet to be buried? Zalia informed us there was a man and a woman.”

Doctor Stewart nodded. “Yes, Gregor and Lucinda. Gregor was our town crier and worked with the stable hands as well. Lucinda was a seamstress and sold her wares in markets in a few towns over... She’d just gotten back. Her daughter is devastated...”

“Lucinda was my late wife's friend...” Mr. Hart sighed deeply. “I hope they’re taking tea together somewhere better...” Zalia squeezed her father’s arm.

Jimin nodded his sympathies as he looked back at Doctor Stewart. “May we examine the bodies?”

Doctor Stewart looked at you briefly before nodding. “Of course, however I must warn you that the sight is hardly appropriate for a lady,” he warned.

“I’m prepared to see whatever lies ahead, Doctor,” you said with an even tone. “I’ve experienced this before and I can assure you this won’t be my last.”

The doctor merely moved aside and let you and Jimin enter the small space. You were struck by the intensity of the smell first. It was horrific and even Jimin stiffened at the odor. But the worse fact was the sight of their bodies laying on the tables. He’d already done the work of covering them with sheets but there was a very clear issue.

Their heads were missing.

And not just from their bodies but from the scene entirely.

“Where are the heads?” Jimin asked and Doctor Stewart and Mr. Hart both got grim looks on their faces.

Mr. Hart spoke first. “We’ve yet to recover any of the heads that have been taken.”

“Taken?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion on your features.

“H-He takes them, when he kills them he takes the heads with him...”

Zalia’s quiet voice made your heart break. She was petrified of whatever she had running through her head. The vacant look in her eyes told you that much.

“Who?” Jimin asked.

“The horseman,” she whispered. “He takes the heads when he kills them and-!”

“Zalia, enough,” Mr. Hart said. “That is an old horror story told to scare kids-you are a young lady, this rambling about a horseman isn’t becoming.”

She quieted herself with a pout on her face, but you knew she believed it. She believed it was a horseman stealing these people’s heads. It was nothing but a nightmare told to frighten children but you couldn’t help but for the idea gave you pause. You’d seen things in this world you couldn’t quite explain. Just as you read cards that few understood. You wanted to speak to Zalia more about this horseman, even if it turned out to be nothing but a children’s horror story.

“Doctor, can you reveal the bodies to us please?” Jimin asked. Doctor Stewart’s face turned into a grimace as he looked to Mr. Hart who was quick to wrap Zalia up in his arms before he did as instructed.

You held your breath and the sheets were removed. Jimin squeezed your hand as you looked upon the deceased. “Oh God...”

Their heads were cut clean off. Bodies hardly touched other than the odd bruise and scratch. Doctor Stewart had already done their examinations and handed over the report to Jimin.

“They were healthy, Gregor had a slight cough but nothing that wasn’t manageable. Their deaths have been ruled as decapitations. My assistant, Yoongi, wrote up all of my notes and some of his own as well. He traveled to the city to work with Sergeant Namjoon with our case, but he should be back within the week.”

Jimin nodded. You walked closer to the bodies and looked over them. You mapped their skin and noted any irregularities. Doctor Stewart seemed distressed at your lack of care being so near death, but you’d been around plenty in your lifetime. You doubt it would stop now. Jimin watched your figure walking around, he needed to be attuned to you at this moment. And he was making his own mental notes as well. No doubt to be discussed at a later time.

You went to adjust the arm when you felt a shock go through your entire frame. A dark forest surrounded in fog and mist befell your view. The sound of a horse stomping through the earthy soil... Towards you... A steed black as night with vibrant red eyes that seemed to glow in the evening air.

It’s cold. The blade felt like ice as it ripped through-

“Y/N!” Jimin called frantically as he caught you before you hit the ground. He was stunned at the fact you’d collapsed. You’d never done that before during an investigation. Except when...

Jimin’s blood ran cold... You’d seen something again.

It was rare it happened but there were times that you’d see visions. You’d seen things about the cases. How people died. How they spent their last moments burned into your mind.

“Y/N,” he breathed softly, brushing your hair away from your face as you lay limp in his arms.

“Here, a cool cloth for her,” the doctor offered. “On the back of her neck.”

Jimin placed it on your skin and massaged the muscles underneath gently. “Come on, Y/N,” he murmured, resting his head on yours. He hated waiting, he was worried and he needed you to open your eyes and look at him. His heart squeezed painfully, he hoped whatever you were seeing you wouldn’t be too frightened...

You started to rouse a few moments later. You could still feel the ice cold blade slicing through your flesh. Frantically you sat up, Jimin was quick to pull you back. “Easy, Y/N, rest a moment, deep breaths.”

Your heart was hammering against your ribs as you tried desperately to follow his instructions. Seeing what you did and reliving the last moments of these people’s lives was horrifying to say the least. With shaky hands you took the water from Doctor Stewart and sipped slowly. Jimin helped you up the rest of the way and led you outside so you could get some fresh air away from the bodies and death.

The sight from your vision was causing chills to run down your spine. Prickles of fear and anxiety rushed over your skin. You were far away from the small group of people as you sat down near the treeline.

“What happened, Y/N?” Jimin asked, standing beside you.

“They were being chased. Through the forest...” you began. “They were so frightened Jimin, and no one came for them.” The thought petrified you and brought slight tears to your eyes. He sighed heavily before he sat down next to you. His hand found yours and he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“Do you want to return home? Say the word and we can drop this case, Y/N... I don’t care about the NYPD-”

“No-No Jimin it isn’t that,” you said softly. “I don’t want to give up, we’ve only just arrived.”

“We need to be careful, Y/N, there’s a murderer loose in this village and we need to figure out who they are and bring them to justice before anything happens to more people,” he said.

“I’ll do the reading tonight,” you murmured. “We’ll need the information to go further, there’s not enough here to give us any definitives. The cards can guide us.”

Jimin nodded. “Of course, I’m with you...”

“And I’m with you.”

You were scrubbing yourself off in a bath. The warm water soothed the aches and stiffness from traveling all day. A knock came to the door. Mrs. Weaver came in with more hot water and you gave her an appreciative smile.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice called from the other side of your bathing screen.

“Yes Jimin, you can sit,” you said. Mrs. Weaver raised a brow at the two of you before heading out of the bathing room entirely, leaving you and Jimin alone.

“What’s wrong Jimin?” You asked, sitting back in the water.

“I read through some of Doctor Stewart’s assistant’s notes, Yoongi. He’s quite thorough, which is good for us. He noticed the pattern of the decapitations are either from the side or from the back, meaning your vision was correct. These people are running away from their attacker.”

You nodded. “It makes sense, I’d run if someone on a horse was chasing me as well... Did you get any more information on this horseman myth Zalia was speaking about?”

Jimin got quieter then. “I interviewed her personally,” he mentioned. “And the story is disturbing to say the least.”

Him interviewing the buxom young woman made your skin feel hot with jealousy... But you breathed in deeply and sank further into the warm water. “Tell me.”

“The headless horseman is a restless spirit. Whether he is an old soldier or mercenary not many know anymore. Zalia explained that the horseman is looking for his head. When he was buried, whoever did it-a witch in some tellings, his fellow soldiers in others, left him without his head-knowing he would rise again. And whomever has his head controls the spirit of the horseman. And she believes that is who the culprit of the murders are.”

“And what do you believe, Jimin?” You asked.

He was quiet for a bit. “I’m not sure Y/N, this entire case is a ball of different mysteries all wrapped up into one. I’m not sure who or what to believe.”

“Trust me?” you breathed.

He was quick to respond this time. “With my life.”

“Hand me the robe over there?” You asked, standing up from the bath and wrapping yourself up in a towel. Jimin’s hand appeared from the other side of the screen, passing you your robe so you could get dressed. You took it and wrapped yourself up in the warm fabric. You walked out with wet hair and Jimin felt his breath catch in his throat. The robe was shorter, leaving your legs more exposed than usual.

Jimin knew you didn’t mind him seeing you like this, but usually he wasn’t so-affected. He’d been your friend for so many years and had noticed your beauty as you’d grown older but… but this was something else entirely.

You grabbed your nightgown and moved towards the changing area, but not before Jimin caught a glimpse of your thigh and swiftly turned his back to give you more privacy. What was the matter with him? You were his best friend, not someone to ogle when he was a little riled up... But he couldn’t help but think of your beauty. Not just your physical attractiveness, but your heart too...

“Jimin?” You asked, walking out in your nightgown and pulling your dressing gown back on. For now, these thoughts would be put to the back of his mind, there were far more important things he needed to focus on. The shapely state of your legs wasn’t one of them. Unfortunately.

“Come on, Y/N, we should probably head to bed,” he said, his voice calm and soothing to your ears. You nodded, following him out of the bathing room and up the steps. When you finally made it to the attic you found yourself more exhausted than you originally thought. Your head swam, eager for sleep. But you and Jimin both knew that you still had work to do.

When he shut the door to your room you both noticed that there was a thick assortment of blankets and pillows on the floor. No doubt Mrs. Weaver was up here to help with that. She was kind enough, if not a little quiet.

You moved to your luggage and found your cards tucked away in the subtle compartment that you’d personally stitched into it. The box felt solid and comfortable in your hands. Opening it you pulled your deck out and moved towards the small table that sat right underneath the window next to the fireplace. Jimin moved to sit with you, collecting the notebook he wrote in during your readings. When you both were settled, you started shuffling.

“What would you like to ask first?”

Jimin thought for a moment. “What kind of evil are we dealing with?”

You shuffled the cards until you felt the need to stop. When you turned the card over your blood ran cold.

“Upright Devil...” You murmured.

Jimin stiffened in his seat and you looked at him with concerned features. But he wrote the card and its position down. “Usually your deck isn’t so literal.”

“Ask direct questions, get direct answers,” you warned.

“How soon before we discover the culprit behind these murders?”

You shuffled again, turning over the card and placing it on the table. “Upright Ace of Wands. Wands burn quickly-we will know the answer within days...”

“Are we in danger?” Jimin asked aloud. You shuffled the deck, laying down the next card.When you turned it over a frown curled across your features. The card was blank.

“This isn’t good... Someone is trying to tamper with my reading...” You murmured softly. You went to touch your deck when heat flared out from them. In shock you dropped them to the ground, watching as smoke and ash started curling up into the air from the deck. Your heart broke at the sight of your beloved cards burning... Instinctually you went to try and save them if you could. But, it was far too late. Whomever cursed your deck had succeeded. Your cards were gone.

Tears burned in your eyes. Jimin approached with shock written across his face. “W-What on Earth was that?” He asked.

“Someone knows Jimin. Someone knows exactly what I’m capable of, and I think that is the very person we came here to locate,” you murmured.

Jimin felt his throat tighten at the information. If someone knew that meant they were already ten steps ahead of you and Jimin both. You understood now why Namjoon had sent you and Jimin here.

There truly was something supernatural going on, and you and Jimin very well might be the only people able to stop it.

The darkness of the night felt suffocating. Black surrounded the edges of your vision. The smell of sulfur and ash stung your nose as you tried not to choke on the rotten stench. A high pitched snort cut through the night and you turned to find him. Large frame, leather armor strapped down with a long burgundy cape billowing out behind him. No head sat atop his body... His horse stood tall, black as obsidian and lit by the piercing light of the moon peeking through the clouds. The horse pawed at the Earth, bright red eyes staring you down. The smell of the damp soil filled your nose and you realized you were alone... Jimin was nowhere to be seen. Your heart thudded in your chest as your palms started to sweat. The deep, ice cold fear trickled down your spine as you took notice of the large broadsword that was attached to the figure’s side. No doubt that weapon could cut your head off with ease, slicing through your neck like butter.

You couldn’t help your fight or flight-so you ran, taking off into the forest without ceremony. Your feet took off faster than your mind, but the horseman gave chase shortly thereafter. The steed carried his master quickly and effectively through the underbrush of the woods. You ducked and turned and jumped, trying desperately to get away from whomever this was. Whatever it was. Your lungs ached and the sound of the horse was only getting closer. Dread clung to your heart like a wet blanket.

You were going to die out here.

Young trees and pricking briars stung your flesh as you tried to move through the forest quickly and in a sporadic manner. If you could just get to the clearing for the village. Perhaps you could get to Jimin and-

Just as you managed to turn the corner, the horseman caught you by the scruff of your hair, yanking you back as you tumbled to the ground in a heap. The horseman hauled your head up, brandishing his blade and started bringing it down. With what you were certain to be your last breaths you screamed for the one person you could think of.

“JIMIN!”

Warm hands caressed your face.

“Y/N! Hey, hey easy,” his sweet voice called.

Your eyes flew open, Jimin’s concerned face coming into your view. Tears welled up in your eyes, moving quickly you wrapped your arms around his neck. He brought you in close, rubbing your back as you trembled in his hold.

“Y/N… what happened?” Jimin asked-shocked by your outburst. He’d been sleeping by the fireplace before you started crying out in your slumber. “Sweets, deep breaths...” he cooed. Your body was shaking hard at the fear and how real that fucking nightmare felt. Were you reliving what happened to someone else? Or... Or were you fortelling something? Was that your future if you stayed on the current path you were on?

“I’m scared,” you whispered. “It was so real, Minie,” you said, the simple childhood nickname you’d given him that only appeared when you wanted something or you were truly frightened.

Jimin scooped you up and sat down with you curled up in his lap. He pet your hair and rested against you, letting your hand splay across his chest to feel the rhythmic beating of his heart. “I’m here, you’re safe with me, Y/N-I promise,” he said, voice that soothing vanilla timbre that had always been sweet and warm.

When you finally could look him in the eyes he gave you a gentle smile. Wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

Jimin was frightened for you, but panicking would only worsen this situation. When you could talk you would, and he’d help you like he always does. Something dark was here, and it was already showing him and you how powerful it was. Jimin could feel your hiccups and cries softening when you leaned back to look at him.

Your eyes were bright with tears in the night, sparkling from the light of the stars and moon outside the window. You were so... beautiful.

Jimin hadn’t really noticed before. A sweet face with mischievous brows that would wrinkle when you were up to no good. Cheeks that he would pinch and poke when you were mad at him for whatever reason. A cute nose that would always run during the springtime. Lips that looked soft and begging for a kiss-

Jimin inhaled deeply, trying to control his thoughts. You were frightened and this was not the time to observe your beauty. “You’re alright, Y/N,” he said, bringing you back into his embrace. “Don’t be frightened...”

You wrapped around him again, arms winding across his neck and shoulders. Your head settled on his collarbone as you both watched the fire. It was small and would no doubt be out by morning, but just resting against his frame was calming your racing mind. All you could think about was him. His strong arms and lithe frame curling into you, his warm palms running over your back and hip as he held you close.

He spoke his next words into your hair. “What happened sweets, what did you see?” he said, voice soft and breathy. Your grip on his shoulders tightened and he squeezed your hip. “I’m here, nothing will hurt you while I’m here so please Y/N,” he said. “Tell me what you saw?”

“The horseman,” you whimpered. “It chased me through the forest and when it caught me I...”

“Okay,” Jimin murmured when your voice turned teary once more. “No more, don’t think about it anymore tonight, just relax.”

You sniffled early into the morning, Jimin rocking back and forth slowly as the sun started to rise. Finally, as the fire turned to embers then to coals you fell asleep and Jimin didn’t have it in him to move. So he pulled you under the covers with him, letting you curl up against him as you shared your warmth.

As he started to lull into slumber he swore he saw something move from underneath the door, as if... as if someone was watching the pair of you. Jimin couldn’t think much longer on it as sleep pulled him under into the black abyss of warmth.

The next four days passed rather uneventfully. No one had ever witnessed the horseman taking a life. So there were no witnesses to interview.

You and Jimin tried to gather as much information as you could. Speaking with the townspeople and trying to understand what had happened and why the village has been thrown into such dark times when the place seemed quite quiet and uneventful prior.

The only thing you and Jimin discovered was the death of the current Mayor’s wife had come as a shock to the small community, and Zalia had been grieving for months on end. She’d only just recently started coming outside and being herself once more.

However, the young woman had started giving you a headache. She had been following you and Jimin around like a little lovesick puppy and it was making you nauseous. You didn’t think she was a bad kid, but honestly? The whole doe eyed bit wasn’t exactly innocuous.

She’d been trying to get Jimin alone and you were rather powerless to stop her. Jimin hadn’t exactly stopped her, and he didn’t seem to find anything wrong with her following you both around for the time being.

If you didn’t know him any better you’d think he was starting to become smitten with the little minx. The rage that boiled in your belly festered over the few days, causing you to snap and be rude to Jimin at random points.

You didn’t like being mean to him, you didn’t like snapping. But the obliviousness of him and the forward attitude of the little sprite had you irritated and wanting nothing more than to scrub yourself clean. Especially after the long day you and Jimin had today. She’d watched him and you work your asses off and hadn’t offered her assistance once, just ogling Jimin while his muscles strained to finish the task.

At the end of the evening you’d gone to the bathing room. You and Jimin had exhumed the other bodies today with Doctor Stewart and Min Yoongi and it had been a shit load of digging and you just wanted to bathe.

Jimin had taken the brunt of your sour attitude today and he was exhausted. But he knew once you’d bathed you’d feel better. He sat outside the bathing room when Zalia approached, a sweet smile on her face.

“Hello Constable!” she said, voice soft and pleasant.

“Hi Zalia,” he nodded. “How are you this evening? Did you get dinner from your father?”

Zalia’s face remained neutral as she placed her hands behind her back and leaned forward. “I’ve been looking for you...”

“Me?” Jimin asked.

She nodded, locks of chocolate brown hair falling in loose curls over her shoulders. “Yes, but Miss Y/N is always around so I can’t ever speak with you alone...”

“Well anything related to our case I have to share with Y/N anyways so-”

Zalia moved closer, her chest starting to level with Jimin’s face. “And if it doesn’t have to do with your case?”

Jimin coughed, turning his head uncomfortably. “Zalia, I’ve had a long day and I’d wish to simply bathe and go to sleep. What can I do for you?”

“Kiss me,” she whispered, leaning in to capture his lips. Jimin was so stunned he didn’t even move until the door opened and you stood there in your bathing robe. He pulled back quickly but the look on your face said it all. You’d seen. And you were furious.

“What the fuck...?” you breathed.

Zalia got a faux look of innocence on her face. “Miss Y/N! I didn’t know you were in there.”

You scoffed aloud, disbelief and hurt crossing your features. You had no right to be hurt, because it had just been made painfully clear to you that you and Jimin will never be anything more than friends. Without a glance in his direction you shoved past Zalia and headed towards the steps with fury in your wake.

Jimin sighed and went to follow you when Zalia grabbed his wrist. “Don’t, she’s so mean to you Constable. I’m kind and sweet and I’d make a great wife-”

“You are not kind,” he said, turning to look at her. “You are a spoiled and vindictive young child. I am not interested in taking a wife like that. Go to your father, we don’t require any more help from you.”

With that Jimin wrenched his wrist from her tight grip and headed up the steps after you. When Jimin finally made it to the top you had shut the door and locked it. He sighed heavily as he rested his head against the door. “Sweets... let me in please?” he asked, voice thick from running up the steps so fast.

“Go away Jimin.”

“I can’t, you know I can’t until you tell me what’s wrong,” he said, sitting down and leaning against the door.

You sat on the other side of the door, big tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried not to cry like an adolescent. But you couldn’t help the well of emotions that opened up when you saw the man you’ve adored for almost twenty years at this point... kissing someone else.

You know Jimin isn’t innocent in the way of women. He went to college and was away for some months and there was a difference when he came back. He was always your Jimin but, for a time it felt different. You assumed he’d had sex and kissed people. But you didn’t think about it often, it hurt too much. And now to have seen it? Right in front of you?

Your little heart shattered.

“It’s nothing,” you said, sniffling and rubbing your eyes.

“If you’re crying it’s not nothing,” he said through the door. “Let me in, Y/N...”

“No,” you said. “Go away, leave me alone.”

Jimin sighed through his nose and rubbed his temple. “Y/N, don’t act like a child, tell me now. What’s all this about?”

“You’re so stupid,” you said with an incredulous laugh. “No woman wants to see the man they love kissing someone else,” you said weakly.

Jimin could hardly believe what you said. “Y/N... don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not,” you sniffled. “Why would I lie about it now? I thought I was fairly obvious this time.”

His brain could hardly fathom what he was hearing. You? Love him? It was no secret you adored Jimin but for it to be in this manner? His mind was reeling. He needed to see you. “Open the door,” he said firmly.

“Just go away for the love of-”

“I love you too.”

You froze. Standing then to take hold of the handle to the door. You didn’t know if you could open it or not honestly. With the way your knees were trembling at his words you couldn’t be certain you wouldn’t fall. Call it melodramatic but to finally have the man you’ve loved for over a decade say he loves you.

With those thoughts in your head you whipped the door open to find a very stunned Jimin on the other side. “You better not be lying to me, Park Jimin.”

Jimin seemed almost insulted as you had been earlier. “I’m not lying-mm!”

You couldn’t wait any longer. You pulled him down by the collar of his shirt and brought your lips together. Jimin wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in closer. He melded his mouth to yours and walked you backwards into your room. He kicked the door shut with his foot and brought his hands to your face as he pulled away.

You tried to kiss him again but Jimin held you in place. “How long?”

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“How long have you been in love with me?” he asked, brushing your hair back, lips heading for your neck.

“Since we were children,” you breathed, arms winding across his shoulders and upper back.

Jimin placed gentle kisses along your neck and throat, hands wandering to your lower back. You mewled softly at his proximity and tenderness, but pulled back just a bit.

“Tell me what happened with Zalia,” you said, pupils blown wide while you panted.

“She said she was looking for me, I asked what I could do for her but then she kissed me and you opened the door. I swear that’s what happened, Y/N,” he said, eyes pleading.

You sighed and nodded, believing him. Zalia was a child, no doubt she was just trying to get to you by doing this. “I believe you.”

He smiled at you then, kissing you with a firmer pressure than last time. “Will you allow me some liberties tonight?”

You raised a brow at him. “Depends on what kind of liberties you’re asking for.”

Jimin rolled his eyes but you knew it was in jest. “Let me kiss you,” he said, nosing at your pulsepoint while his hands wandered a bit. “Tell me if you don’t like something?” he said, eyes now locked with yours. “You must tell me... I just want to please you.”

Your eyes widened at his blatant suggestion but you nodded anyway. “Yes, all of me is yours,” you said, turning to kiss him once more.

Jimin’s hands found your ass, squeezing it firmly, making you gasp at the rough handling. He took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth deftly. His kiss was eager yet patient, cradling your head before he moved away for a brief moment. “I must wash myself... would you like to help me?” Jimin asked.

You could feel the heat in your face, desperate that Jimin wouldn’t mention your coy attitude. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

He smiled, leading you towards the vanity that the washing basin was set in. Jimin sat you down in the chair as he approached with purpose. His hands were on his waist coat quickly, undoing the fastenings as he removed his shirts. When his chest was bare you felt your heart start to race. He stood right in front of you, his sleek physique and lithe frame sending your mind into a tailspin.

Jimin took the cloth and water basin and used the cool water to start washing his chest. “Help me?” he asked, bringing your hand to the washcloth. You did as he asked, stunned at what was happening but too aroused to stop. He’d said he loved you. You believed him, because the look in his eyes as he stared at you now was so intense. He wasn’t hiding anything anymore. The care and love for you was prominent in his eyes and it made your heart squeeze as he moved closer to kiss you as you washed his chest with the cool water. Jimin moaned when you ran the chilled cloth over his nipple, the feeling going straight to his groin.

“Jimin...” you breathed against his lips as he trailed your hand with his over his stomach and daring a swipe beneath the band of his trousers. You gasped when Jimin tossed the cloth away and brought you into his embrace once more. Your bare hand made contact with his chest and he shivered at the touch. His skin was warm and heated to the touch, and he smelled of cinnamon and vanilla. And something else that was just distinctly Jimin. “I thought you needed help bathing?”

His husky chuckled filled the room. “I’ll bathe later, right now I need to touch you... I need you to touch me... You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, capturing your earlobe in his lips as he gently wrapped around you in a way that was so familiar yet new. “Do you trust me?” he asked, looking into your eyes then.

His were deep and dark and full of warmth and lust. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Always,” you murmured as you brought your lips together again, winding your fingers into his long dark hair. He groaned when you tugged eagerly.

“Hold on to me,” he said. When you tightened your arms around his neck Jimin picked you up, his hands settling on your ass as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He laid you back on the bed, looking at you with all the stars in the night sky encased in his gaze.

“Touch me,” you whispered, reaching for him.

“You’re certain?” he said, voice soft and kind.

“Yes, I’m positive. Please,” you said.

Jimin didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands slipped beneath your dressing gown to make contact with your bare legs. The feeling of your soft skin had Jimin swallowing thickly. To finally have you here, in bed with him and to want him there. His heart was hammering in his chest. He peeled the dressing gown open and was shocked to see your completely bare body beneath him. His eyes found yours quickly and you gave him a sheepish smile.

“Fuck...” he groaned, leaning down to capture your lips in a brief kiss. He then moved to your jaw as he intertwined your fingers together. He sighed against your collarbone and brought one of his hands to your chest, palms warming your breasts as he trailed his lips further to join his hand.

“Minie...” you breathed softly. “Please, more...”

Your wish was his command, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it gingerly. His hand massaged your other breast and you writhed beneath him with sweet whimpers falling from your puffy lips. Jimin smirked against your chest, if you were whining this much already he couldn’t wait to touch your sweet center.

It was overwhelming and passionate and everything you were hoping it was going to be. This moment with him made your heart race in your ribs as you felt his hands trailing lower. “Still okay?” Jimin asked, looking at you.

“Yes, I’m okay-keep going,” you whispered. Jimin nodded, his hand finally making it’s way to your core while his mouth stayed on your chest for a while longer. His fingers gently cupped your sex and it sent shivers of bliss down your spine.

“You’re so wet...” he murmured, blowing cool air on the heated skin of your breast. Jimin licked his lips before shuffling down the bed to get a better look at you. His mind was still reeling at the fact he had you like this. But the longer he looked the more shy you became, hands trying to cover yourself when he placed a tender kiss on your thigh. You squeaked in shock but otherwise watched with big eyes. He adjusted you so your knees hooked on either of his shoulders as he kneeled between your legs.

Your heart was in your throat. Was he really going to do this? Were you really going to do this? There was no doubt in your mind you wanted him, but there was also no return from this course. You knew you’d never get his lips out of your mind just from kissing. What would you do when you discovered how alluring his mouth can be?

“May I?” He asked, features pleading and earnest. “I want to please you...”

With a tentative nod you gave your consent. “Yes...”

Jimin wasted no more time, capturing your lower lips in a hot kiss. You choked out a moan, head falling back as piercing bliss flooded your veins. It was almost overwhelming to have such a sensation. The pleasure curling down your spine and pulsing through you with every rapid beat of your heart.

“A-Ahh~” You cried, voice whiny and soft as Jimin gave heady licks to your center as he gripped your thighs. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you tried to keep yourself from humping his face like a mad woman. But you’d never had pleasure such as this. Your own fingers and pillows had never been this sharp and precise with your arousal and Jimin was determined to make you cream his face.

“Yes, fuck you taste so good,” he said, moving back for a moment to lick his lips and look into your eyes. Your vision was glassy, eyes lidded and chest heaving from pleasure. Jimin felt his arousal in his trousers, tight and uncomfortable as he tried to adjust himself. You watched with morbid curiosity as his cock inflated.

You’d read dirty books before, listened in on other conversations from women your age about their husbands. But to experience it, to experience him was something else entirely. Jimin leaned back in for another lick to your center. The feeling was still as arousing as before, if not more so as he eagerly worked you up towards an orgasm.

“J-Jimin!” You whined, voice pitched as your center leaked more and more arousal because of him. Jimin licked it up, placing his puffy lips on your clit and sucking it into his sinful mouth as he introduced a finger into your core. You winced briefly as his fingers were bigger than yours but you quickly relaxed into the new sensation.

“Yes sweets, that’s a good girl, cum for me,” he breathed. He gently curled his digit inside of you, touching a spot inside that had you writhing for more. His lips formed a soft smile as he pushed one more finger into your entrance.

“Ah!” you cried, feeling the sensations tumble through you with no warning. You came harshly, Jimin’s sweet yet devilish mouth and tender touches had your body overwhelmed with pleasure. “J-Jimin...”

He licked his lips as he pulled back when your tummy twitched with sensitivity. His cock was throbbing in his pants but he wasn’t going to go any further without your permission. “I should stop... If I don’t stop I will take you before I even properly ask you to be mine...”

You looked at him with wide eyes as he caressed your face in his palm. His expression hadn’t changed. His lust was strong but the love and adoration he had for you was finally revealed and he wouldn’t hide it now. There was no point. He was wholly yours, and you were his. This is what you always knew to be true in your heart, but now? Now you were naked and in the warmth of your bed you found yourself melting against him.

“What about you?” you asked, looking down at his bulge and Jimin chuckled softly.

“I’m fine sweets, really-”

“Jimin,” you said softly, hand splaying across his chest as he looked into your eyes. “I want more of you. C-Can I have all of you?”

His face turned flushed, your bold statement disarming him for a moment. “Are you certain this is what you want? I don’t want to do something like this without you being sure-”

“Jimin,” you said again, hands cradling his face. “All of me belongs to you, my heart, my soul, every inch and every sour mood-it’s all yours, as long as you’re mine too.”

The heat in his belly was way too hot, burning him up from the inside out. Liquid fire coursed through his veins as he laid himself over you again, your naked frame curling around his partially clothed one.

Jimin couldn’t hold off, he kissed you with fervor, his lips and hands hardly able to stay in one spot of your body. “Fuck, I’m so hard baby,” he whispered hot against your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing his jaw as you felt him running his thumb through your lower lips.

“M-Minie,” you mewled, back arching as he dipped his thumb inside your still soaking wall. “F-Feels good, want you,” you begged.

He smirked. “Yes baby, anything you want,” he said while thrusting his thick digit inside you a few times. You writhed underneath his ministrations, feeling the heat and dark pleasure swirling in your gut again.

“More...” you said, reaching forward to grope his bulge gingerly.

Jimin rutted forwards a bit, licking his lips as he looked down at you. The passionate gaze in his eyes caused shocks of electricity to spark through you. He took your lips in another kiss as he dipped both of your hands beneath the band of his trousers.

“Touch me here, gently like this,” he said, spitting in your palm before curling your fist in his palm around his cock. He moaned erotically as your skin touched his, pressure and warmth filling his stomach with butterflies.

“Wow... you’re so hard,” you murmured, shocked by the new sensations of being with him. You’d never felt anything like this. His cock was thick and heavy in your palm, a subtle pulse going through your body as you watched Jimin’s face. His brows pinched like it hurt, but his mouth was hanging open slightly as you started to pump him. He shivered at the action, his hand doing less and less as you took over the action.

Jimin tugged his pants down and off of his frame, only letting you relinquish him for a moment before his hand was guiding you by the wrist back to his aching dick. “M-More,” he moaned, mirroring your desperate pleas early. Unlike the demonic tease that was Park Jimin, you were merciful as you let your hand cover his length again. You brought your hand to the top of his length before swiping your thumb over his tip, making a sweet whine come from his throat.

You smiled at him as he started thrusting into your fist, the momentum of his hips causing you to rock with the motion.

“Is it good, Minie?” you asked, biting your lip while giving him a nervous expression.

“Yes sweets,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “It’s very good, feels nice to have you touch me...”

“Jimin,” you said, looking into his eyes. “Will... will you put it in now?” you asked.

His eyes widened a touch before filling with lust. “Yes, spread your legs,” he said, moving back a touch. You felt the heat spreading through your cheeks as you did as instructed, spreading your legs to allow him between them. Jimin was patient, his hands rubbing along your legs as he held you by the back of your knees. His lips trailed along your shins, licking and sucking bites into your flesh as he made his way up your frame. The amount of preparation he was giving you made your mind reel. Every part of you would be kissed and mapped out by the end of this night if he kept it up.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you waited. You didn’t know what to expect. You’d read dirty books before and had your fair share of heated nights in your bed alone but, to have someone else’s hands and lips on you... The sensations were ten fold now and you couldn’t help but tremble in anticipation.

You jumped when he rubbed his cock on your wet lower lips. “Easy, Y/N, deep breathe for me,” he said, spitting in his palm to rub on his length. You did as he said, gripping the sheets as you waited for him to finally be inside of you.

Finally, finally he sunk in slowly. You whimpered at the foreign feeling, but Jimin leaned down to kiss you as he found your clit to ease any pain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he pushed the rest inside of you.

“Jimin!” you cried, the stinging pain of his entry slowly dulling as time went on. A full feeling filling the base of your belly.

“Shhh baby, it’s okay,” he sang softly, kissing you again.

Your heart eased as the sensations became more and more familiar, the fullness turning from aching pain to an odd form of pleasure.

It was nothing you’d ever felt before. “Okay,” you encouraged, hips wiggling in need. “It’s okay now,” you said, voice soft in the night.

Jimin nodded, giving a few tentative thrusts that took your breath away. “Fuck... so tight, so wet baby,” he breathed, his voice strained.

“Oh... Jimin,” you said, head tilting back into the sheets as you began the sinful dance of lust and desire.

Jimin’s hips moved fluidly against yours. Your fingers dug into his upper back, the pleasure wholly overwhelming but not in a bad way. You felt so hot, your skin was burning up as his hands caressed different parts of you. His hands on your ass as he pounded you harshly against the bed, your nails carving hot marks into his skin. But all he could do was smile as you cried out for him.

“Yeah baby, take me,” he purred, voice sin itself in your ears, setting you aflame in the darkness of the night. His cock was relentless inside of you, hitting all the spots you didn’t know you were so desperate for him.

“P-Please, keep going,” you begged, voice pitched and breathy in his ear. Jimin felt his stomach clench in bliss at your fucked out tone.

“Turn over,” he told you, pulling from your soaking pussy with a soft hiss.

You nodded eagerly, turning over as Jimin handed you a pillow to rest on. His hands smoothed over your ass before leading his weeping cock back to your center with ease. Once you were comfortable and his cock was nestled deep inside your sweet cunt he started his rhythm up again.

“M-Minie!” You called, gripping the sheets between your fingers desperately as you tried to hold on to the last inch of your sanity.

Jimin smirked at your pretty face shoved into the sheets as he pounded your eager core with his thick cock. “Feels good baby?” he asked, tone dark but sweet.

“Yes! Feels so good inside me,” you whined out. The bliss and desire swirled in your belly, an orgasm no doubt coming soon.

“You’re getting tighter,” Jimin groaned. “Fuck, fuck are you gonna cum?” he huffed, looking down at you with a lust driven gaze.

You nodded quickly, feeling the cord tightening within you.

“Then you better be a good girl and cum for me sweets,” Jimin purred, resting his chest on your back as he wrapped one arm around your lower stomach and brought his fingers to your aching clit.

You pushed your hips back against his and mewled loudly as Jimin felt your orgasm fall over you. Your body tensed and relaxed quickly, causing you to shudder in bliss as your cunt sucked him harder, then fluttered over his throbbing cock.

“Give it to me baby, that’s a good girl sweets,” he cooed, kissing your jaw as he slowed his thrusts down to ease the sensitivity you’d feel in a moment.

“M-Minie...” you hiccuped, eyes teary from the sensations.

Jimin smiled at your sweet face, kissing your head tenderly. “Too much? Need me to stop?” He asked, hips slowing to a stop.

“No-you too, want you to cum too,” you flushed, features bashful but still needy.

Jimin didn’t need more motivation, his hips picking back up into a slower but deeper rhythm, his cock brushed against that one spot. It had you seeing stars and your body jolted in slight sensitivity. But he didn’t stop, and you keened honeyed moans at him, your sweet sounds filling his ears and causing his cock to harden even further inside of you.

“Fuck you feel so good,” he growled out, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “I-I’m close, where do you want it?” he asked, breaths coming in pants as the pleasure swirled and filled his belly.

“Doesn’t matter Minie, I’m yours,” you cried, cunt clenching tight once more.

“Yes baby, and I’m yours,” he moaned, biting down on your shoulder as he felt himself let go. You gasped at the feeling, not quite enough to bring you to the cusp again, but the whines and grunts from Jimin made you throb all the same.

Without a word Jimin pulled out to turn you over and brought his lips to your swollen and sensitive core once more. You squeaked out in shock but quickly found yourself melting against his soft and hot mouth.

“Oh Jimin, please,” you moaned.

“One more baby, give me one more,” he said, introducing his fingers into your dripping center. His and your climaxes smeared against your thighs as they trembled from the overstimulation.

“J-Jimin!” you cried, the pleasured cord snapping within you for the third and final time. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you tried to keep your breathing even. Jimin crawled over top of you, a smile on his glistening lips.

“You’re so beautiful Y/N,” he said, wiping his mouth before leaning down to kiss you. “Fuck I love you...”

“Jimin... I love you too,” you breathed against his lips.

“Rest here sweets, I’ll get you something to clean up with,” he said, standing and heading towards the linen closet in the corner. You laid there and stared at the ceiling, mind racing with the night's events, your body still in the blissful afterglow of three orgasms with the man you love.

When he returned he did with a cool cloth and sweet lips laid across tender areas of skin. He insisted on cleaning you, chuckling with you as you snuggled under the sheets once you were both clean again.

Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and the warm blankets as you both stared at the night outside the window. You felt small and safe in his embrace, the night and his body coddling you as you started to lull into a slumber.

You both smiled as you fell asleep, hanging onto the other tightly-as neither of you could’ve anticipated what the morning would bring.

Jimin and you awoke to banging on the attic door.

“Constable! Miss Y/N! Wake up! Mayor Hart is here to speak with you both, Zalia’s gone missing,” Mrs. Weaver called through the wooden door.

You and Jimin jolted awake as you both looked bashful at the other when you discovered your states of undress, and memories of the night before swirled in both of your heads.

Jimin called out first. “Yes, Mrs. Weaver, Y/N and I will be down promptly.”

The pair of you got out of bed, but not before a sweet kiss from Jimin. “We will talk about us soon, yes?” he asked, holding your face in his palms.

“Yes,” you said, accepting another kiss before getting out of bed and heading towards your changing screen. You noticed Jimin watching your frame walking away and you couldn’t help but feel the flutter in your chest.

You and Jimin dressed quickly, throwing your clothes on in record time, ensuring you both looked presentable before heading towards the steps.

When you got downstairs Mayor Hart stood there with a grim expression. “Constable, Miss Y/N,” he said. “Please help me, my Zalia has gone missing.”

You shared a worried glance with Jimin before looking at the distressed Mayor.

“Where was she last seen?” You asked.

“She ran off into the woods,” Mr. Weaver said. “Last night, she took off into the woods after speaking with the good constable here,” he said with a sneer.

Mayor Hart looked between the innkeeper and Jimin with confusion. “What do you mean? What happened? Why would she run off, Constable?”

“We had a disagreement,” you said. Mr. Weaver scoffed but you pressed on. “But I thought she would’ve gone home, not to the woods.”

“We need to find her,” Mr. Hart exclaimed. “With a mad killer on the loose anything could happen to her!”

“We’ll start a search party,” Jimin said. “Anyone able bodied will go,” he stated firmly.

“I’ll gather Yoongi and Dr. Stewart. Weaver we’ll need horses,” he added.

The innkeeper nodded, heading towards the stables without a word. Mr. Hart took off towards the doctor’s home, leaving you and Jimin alone once more.

A twisting sensation started in your stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong…

You wrapped your hand around Jimin’s and squeezed, making him look at you with concern.

“What is it?” He asked, voice pitched with worry.

“Something is wrong, Jimin, I can feel it. Something is off,” you whispered, as if the ground beneath you could hear your troubled thoughts if you spoke them too loudly. Your heart was racing, palms turning sweaty at the fear coursing through you. Your eyes rapidly covered the village, and yet there was nothing out of place.

But you could feel it. Almost as if it were a palpable object you could hold. The icy grip of fear coiled in your belly, causing you to grip Jimin’s hand tighter.

“Sweets,” he said softly, turning so he was the only thing in your line of sight. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?” You were going to start panicking if you kept it up. Your breathing was accelerated like you’d been jogging, he was worried you’d work yourself into a panic attack if you kept going.

“You can’t feel that?” you asked, dread thick and heavy like a wet blanket over your shoulders.

“No baby, I don’t,” he said, sympathy crossing his features.

“Here, a horse,” Mr. Weaver said, leading one steed over to you and Jimin, already saddled up and ready to go. “Shouldn’t be a problem for you to share, hm?” he asked, raising a brow.

Jimin shifted in discomfort before taking the lead from the innkeep. With that he took the horse and helped you up before climbing up himself. You in front and him holding the reigns in the back.

Once you and Jimin were settling on the horse you headed towards the edge of the forest where Mr. Hart and now Dr. Stewart plus Min Yoongi.

“Constable, Miss Y/N,” he greeted, raising a hand to you both. Jimin had taken a liking to Yoongi over the day spent exhuming the other victims.

Well, he had taken a liking to pestering him more accurately.

“Hello Yoongi,” Jimin said. “Are you joining the search party?”

He shook his head. “No, I have to do some more examinations for Doctor Stewart. But, if you’re still looking by the time I’m done I will join, Mr. Weaver said he had an extra horse or two.”

Jimin nodded. There were a few more of the local farmers and some villagers that had offered up their assistance. People were going to go in packs of two or three, some on foot others on their own horses. A few people even had dogs they were going to use to hopefully locate the young woman.

Mayor Hart made it to the front of the small crowd and spoke loudly. “We’ll start out by Hollow’s Creek and move our way back towards the village. She could be anywhere, and so could the killer that’s been terrorizing our home. Stick together, do not lose your partner! Make sure you’re back before sundown. Be safe everyone, thank you for helping me locate my daughter,” he said, the pain in his eyes real.

You and Jimin followed Mayor Hart first, heading in after him as the rest of the people knew the layout of the land a little better.

The further into the forest you got, the more and more uneasy you felt. There was something wrong about these woods, there was something wrong about the trees and how they shifted in the wind. You could tell when things were shifted out of balance, energies had a funny way of hiccuping in normal day to day life. How do you explain when you’re having an ‘off-day’, hm?

But here in this forest, the energy, the veil between life and death itself seemed... skewed. Things were running in the corner of your eyes, making you think you’d seen Zalia. After the third or fourth time, Jimin sighed and forced your horse to a stop.

“Y/N, do I need to take you back to the Inn?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t want you out here alone,” you said, your hand gripping his. “Please...”

Jimin sighed, and nodded. “I’m sorry, it’s been a few hours and yet we have nothing to show for it.”

That’s when you noticed, Mayor Hart had gotten away from the two of you.

“Jimin... where...?” You asked, voice wavering with concern.

He shook his head, looking around in confusion. “But he was just... we... saw him,” he murmured.

“Constable! Miss Y/N! We need to go!”

You and Jimin both turned to see Doctor Stewart heading up towards you on his horse. He was panting and flushed, the horse clearly agitated.

“Doctor Stewart,” you breathed, relief filling you.

“Hurry before-gah!”

You both gasped in shock and fear as he fell from his horse, his head rolling off to the side. His horse bolted, taking off into the forest. However, behind Doctor Stewart’s body was the Horseman...

He was just as he appeared in your dream. His broadsword was large and glistening with fresh blood. It was dripping off the tempered steel in thick rivers of crimson, falling to the ground in heavy drops. The horse was large and dark, a sleek black coat covering it. Deep burgundy eyes gazed at you, as if they were looking directly into your soul. Even as tall as the Horseman and his steed were, you knew he should be taller still. But there was nothing above his shoulders. His neck was cauterized and dark, thick chunks of skin and muscles wrapped around to form the stump his head should sit atop of. And yet, there was nothing there.

He moved forward, collecting Doctor Stewart’s head.

He takes the head as he searches for his...

“Jimin...” you breathed. “We have to go, we have to go right now, go!”

He didn’t wait any longer, snapping the reins and sending you and the horse hurtling forward through the forest.

You heard the Horseman’s steed paw at the ground a few times before the galloping began. You and Jimin had a head start, but the long strides of the other horse would catch you quickly. There was nothing you could do, and if that damned thing caught up to you it would kill you and Jimin just as quickly as it had Doctor Stewart.

Your horse bolted through the forest, seemingly to know the way back home. However, you were quickly overtaken. Your horse fell after a shot from the Horseman took out one of its legs. You and Jimin fell off the buckling horse, rolling into the dirt and leaves of the damp forest floor.

The wind was knocked out of you as you fell hard on your side, Jimin was pitched to the opposite side of you, his hand on his head that was now bleeding.

The Horseman was circling the two of you. You crawled towards him, reaching him to check his head. “Minie,” you whispered, holding his head as his eyes seemed to go in and out of focus. “Look at me, hey,” you said, voice weak and frightened.

“Run baby,” he begged, you could tell he was working on not passing out. “He’ll take me first, run.”

“I’m not leaving you, ever,” you said. “If he takes you then he’ll take me too.”

“No...”

The sound of the steed got closer. You wrapped your arms around him and waited, ready to feel the ice of the steel cut your flesh all over again when-

“Halt.”

The Horseman stopped. The steed was steady, if not disgruntled that the hunt had been, apparently, called off. You and Jimin looked at each other before looking towards the voice.

There stood Mr. Weaver, on a horse with a cloaked figure behind him. “The mistress doesn’t want to lose the Constable,” he said with a firm tone.

You and Jimin both shared worried glances before Mr. Weaver and the cloaked figure got down from the horse.

Zalia’s head of curly brunette hair cascaded down her shoulders as the emerald green cloak fell around her body. You were stunned.

“You...”

Zalia smirked softly. “Didn’t think I was capable of it huh? Well, I showed you,” she said with a little proud lift of her head. “This is what real magic is, nothing like those foolish cards you were tampering with.”

Your heart ached at the mention of your cards.

“So you’re the one who destroyed them...”

“Well I couldn’t have you reveal me too soon now could I? My fun was merely just beginning. But now that I’ve got your full attention,” Zalia said with a swing in her hips as she approached. “I’m going to have fun ripping you apart.”

“Your father is-”

SMACK.

Your head was turned fully to the side as Zalia’s strike stung across your cheek. “Don’t mention that fucking worthless man. He’s hardly a father to me. He merely married my mother, and then forced me to watch her die when I had the power to bring her back... I still do.”

Jimin watched in horror as the Horseman stood idly by, as if awaiting his next orders.

“You summoned this?” he asked, looking at her for confirmation.

“You’d be surprised what women can do constable, even with just a little magic,” she said, snapping her fingers and Mr. Weaver’s eyes glimmered green.

“He’s... What?” Jimin asked.

“And you too,” she murmured, snapping her fingers again and suddenly-Jimin was moving to stand.

“Jimin-what are you-ack!” Jimin had stood up, hauling you to your feet as well, but instead of holding you close, his arms locked around your neck.

“Keep her there constable, I’m going to have some fun,” she sneered.

You tried to wiggle out of Jimin’s hold but it was no use. He was solid against you, and you had a feeling whatever Zalia did to him, it wasn’t something to be so easily broken.

“Now, Miss Y/N,” she said, stalking back towards Mr. Weaver. “I’m going to take the man you love and make him mine. I’m going to have him wring your pretty little neck and then when he realizes what he’s done, I’ll have the horseman chase him through the forest. Then his lovely head will become the final piece of my puzzle.”

You swallowed the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. “Why Zalia, for what reason are you doing this?”

“Because I can,” she whispered spitefully. “You must know it too, Miss Y/N. The looks men give us. They think we’re so fragile and pitiful. They think we must be protected, that we have no power. That useless Mayor let my mother die. But I’m going to set it right, with enough head’s the Horseman will grant me power unlike anything I’ve ever known before,” she chuckled. “And when that happens I will bring my mother back.”

“What are you talking about, what is the Horseman going to do? He’s a servant to you isn’t he?”

Zalia merely laughed. “You think that’s all he is? He is a powerful being beyond your comprehension. He has magic of his own, and once that is unleashed, we will be unstoppable.”

You couldn’t fathom how far this young woman had fallen. She was deranged. So upset and hurt over the loss of her mother she’d gone on a killing spree, summoning a demonic creature of the night to do her bidding. You did feel for her, losing a parent isn’t easy, but to turn to this?

“How did you even do this?” You found yourself asking.

“I found his head,” she said with a smirk. “Finders keepers as the saying goes.”

“You truly think there won’t be any repercussions for this?”

Zalia shook her head as she giggled. “There hasn’t been any yet.”

“Perhaps not,” you sighed. “I’m sorry baby,” you whispered, jamming your elbow into Jimin’s lower stomach quickly. He coughed in surprise and immediately let go to hold himself as he doubled over.

Mr. Weaver was moving towards you quickly but you managed to dodge his fumbling attacks. You were gunning for Zalia when a sharp pain spread across your scalp. Someone grabbed your hair. You turned your gaze and saw the Horseman’s hand stretched out and grasping onto your head.

Zalia laughed harder. “You’re such a pathetic whelp, thinking that old trick would be enough to fool me.”

With a firm tug the Horseman had you on your knees. You looked at Jimin who was recovering from your blow, his eyes were still that sickly color of green. If only you could get to him somehow. Snap him out of this stupor.

“However, Miss Y/N, I find you’re more trouble than you’re worth. This has all gotten rather boring for me. I still have a mayor to find and kill... Horseman,” she said. The grip on your scalp tightened. “Her head is yours.”

You desperately tried to get away, but it was no use. The hold on you was much tighter than Jimin’s and as you looked to the side you saw him standing there, expression blank.

“I love you,” you breathed. “I’ve always loved you and I always will.”

You couldn’t help the tears now.

At least you’d gotten to show him how much you truly love him. Last night seemed like such a distant memory now but as you stared into his eyes you thought for a moment the green flickered.

“Touching,” Zalia said with a monotone voice. “Horseman, hurry up.”

“Please don’t look, I don’t want you to see this,” you begged.

You saw a tear rolling down Jimin’s face as he seemed to try desperately to move. To get to you, but his body was frozen in its spot as he was forced to watch the woman he loved be beheaded. The green flickered again.

The sword was high in the air, it was about to come down and slice through your neck. You kept your eyes open, trained on Jimin until the last second when you heard the steel weapon whistling through the air. But before you could feel the sharp blade of death, you were tackled out of the way.

Mayor Hart was panting heavily on top of you. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. He stood quickly, helping you to your feet when he bellowed loudly. “Zalia Marie Hart what in God’s name have you done?!”

The shock of the moment knocked her concentration, freeing Jimin from her grasp, but not Mr. Weaver. Jimin’s eyes cleared and the tears appeared when he saw you standing there. He jogged over to you and quickly wrapped you up in his arms.

“Fuck... Fuck Y/N,” he said, pulling you in and cradling your head.

“I’ve only shown you a fraction of what I can do, and when I bring my mother back-”

“Zalia please,” Mr. Hart begged, voice strained with anguish. “Enough of this, come home darling... I miss your mother with every breath, I don’t want to lose you too.”

The young woman scoffed. “I’m not your daughter,” she growled, face growing more and more twisted and angry.

The older man looked like he’d been stabbed. The pain was evident on his face. “I may not be your birth father, but I raised you! I took care of you, I-I treated you as my own.”

“And I hate you for it,” she sneered.

Mr. Hart was gutted. “I stand by what I did, your mother would’ve never wanted you to turn into this.”

Zalia’s face turned dark, fury and spite filled her gaze. “You will pay for what you’ve done to me and my mother.”

“I cared for you! Both of you!”

“You let her die! I could’ve saved her, I still can... Once he has enough heads, he’ll give me some of his power. I will be unstoppable, I could bring back my mother. Your wife!”

Mayor Hart shook his head. “No sweet girl, no one should come back from the dead like that. Imagine what she would say, how many have you ordered to be killed?”

“I’m adding you to the tally, Horseman,” Zalia said. “Kill Douglas Hart.”

The Horseman locked onto her father. The horse pawed at the ground. Mayor Hart jumped onto his horse and took off through the forest at breakneck speed. The Horseman gave chase shortly after.

Jimin saw his opportunity.

With the Horseman distracted, he could move. With a frightening amount of strength, Jimin tackled Mr. Weaver. He wrestled him to the ground and started swinging. If he could get him subdued to a point where he wasn’t an issue, then taking down Zalia wouldn’t be as difficult.

You weren’t one to sit idly by either, so when you saw Jimin haul the older man to the ground you decided to take a similar course of action with the bitch herself.

“Zalia,” you growled. Her eyes widened in shock at her own shortcoming. With the speed of a viper you took her down. You had her pinned to the ground shortly after, but she wasn’t giving up without a fight. She grabbed your hair and pulled, causing you to yelp in pain but you slapped her across the face to get her to let go. You currently had the upper hand, sitting on her waist as you pummeled her.

After a few moments of fighting you heard the Horseman’s steed come to a halt.

Mayor Hart was dead.

You had to figure out how to get the damned thing to stop.

His head.

She said she had his head. Did she have it on her? Or was it hidden somewhere that you’d have to find-

In the burrows of her cloak you found it, attached to a chain was a small-shrunken head. You wanted to gag at the sight of it, but you grabbed it from the chain. Zalia was livid, thrashing around like a child so much that she flung you from her body, sending the head flying through the air.

“Weaver! The head!” Zalia cried.

Mr. Weaver struggled against Jimin for a moment longer, before finally breaking free. Jimin scrambled after him, grabbing his ankle and slowing him down for a moment. But he was crafty, kicking him in the shoulder he’d fallen on. Jimin cried out, his shoulder no doubt on fire as the man tried to kick his way free.

You stood up and tried to run for it when the sound of hooves stopped you in your tracks.

You saw the Horseman, barreling towards you with a speed you hadn’t anticipated. Jimin yelled for you to move, Zalia was scrambling to find the head when everything stopped.

With a shaky hand you held out the head to the Horseman.

He was very still, the horse hardly making any movements.

You were panting hard, nose bleeding as you tried to stay on your feet. You wanted to go home, you missed Martin and the page boys, you missed the bakery sweets down the road from your house and most of all? You missed the quiet mornings with Jimin as you both sipped on your coffees.

You wanted more mornings like that.

The creature reached forward, taking the head from you in its grasp.

“What have you done!” Zalia screamed. “My mother! You bitch I’ll kill you!”

Just as you were about to ready yourself to fight again the Horseman’s steed whinnied and stood on its hind legs. Jimin grabbed your arm and tugged you close to him once more as Mr. Weaver fell to the ground in a heap. The Horseman moved quickly, collecting Mr. Weaver and throwing him on the back of the horse.

Zalia started to run, racing through the woods as fast as her feet could carry her. But unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done now. The Horseman gained on her quickly, grabbing her by the scruff of her hair. As she started to scream, the Horseman grabbed her and put her on the front of the horse. You were worried he’d turn back around, come for you and Jimin next but it never happened.

The Horseman took off into the woods.

And that was the last you ever saw of him or Zalia and Mr. Weaver.

You turned to Jimin, who looked a little worse for wear, but he smiled at you all the same as he brought you in for a tight hug. “Fuck... I thought we were done for, but of course you came through. You always do...”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Jimin,” you said, eyes sparkling as the sun started to fade in the sky. He caressed your cheek and placed a sweet kiss on your head.

“Come on, if we hurry we can find that horse and head back to town before it gets too dark.”

Jimin held out his hand and you took it, intertwining your fingers as you walked into the twilight, hopeful of what the morning would bring.

You sipped your coffee at the dining room table with your cards laid out in front of you. When you’d returned home from Sleepy Hollow one of the first things Jimin gifted you was a new set of tarot cards. You smiled as the Empress showed herself to you as well as the High Priestess. Both significators for you, life was good.

“My love!” Jimin called from downstairs, heading towards the steps and taking them two at a time.

“Yes Minie? What is it?” You asked, heading towards the door.

“Look at today’s headline,” he huffed, walking through the door with a paper in hand.

“Did you give Martin the-”

“Yes darling, but look!”

You smiled softly before doing as he asked and looking at the paper.

Sergeant Kim Namjoon Promoted to Captain after Sleepy Hollow Debacle.

Your lips pursed at the mention of the Sergeant now turned Captain. “Why do I care if he’s promoted or not? He didn’t even thank us! We almost lost our lives and-”

“Look closer baby,” Jimin said.

You did look closer and you couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that peeled from you at the sight. There in the font was a quote.

Without the help of Constable Park Jimin and his incredible assistant Miss Y/N, the NYPD would’ve been helpless in this case. My thanks go to them for their tireless efforts to help the people of Sleepy Hollow when the NYPD could not.

“How on Earth did you get him to say that!?” You cried, laughter and joy pouring from you.

“I wasn’t particularly happy that he sent us there either my darling, and I have a few connections to the newspapers. Jungkook owed me a favor, and got a small edit to the quote added in.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes, but smiled all the same. Jimin was just as petty as you, if not more so. “Well that certainly made my morning,” you said.

“I had a feeling it would make you laugh,” Jimin said, coming closer to place a small kiss on your lips. He noticed your cards on the table and looked back at you. “Anything good happening here?”

“Always,” you said, pulling back in for another kiss. Jimin brought you into his embrace and started walking you back towards your room. You squeaked in surprise but let him lead you regardless. “What about breakfast?”

“It can wait, I cannot,” he said with another deep kiss.

He had a small box in his pocket and a very important question he wanted to ask you more than he wanted breakfast anyways.

#52hertz #bangtanwhq #bangtan sorciere #BTS #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jimin #bangtan #Park Jimin #park jimin smut #Sleepy Hollow #Sleepy Hollow AU #jessika hathaway

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staytinyville · 6 months

Text

Stay Alive (21)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None

A/N BETA READ @seoul9711 YALL. My bad for missing an update! I'm visiting family this week so it's been an occupied time for me. However because I've been starting to want to write a lot of other things, I might start changing the updates. Nothing too large. I think I'm going to do Monday's and Thursday updates.

Your day started with you taking care of Namjoon like normal. You had taken to making sure the man had his skin moisturized and taken care of. By the looks of it, it seemed to have been a while since the last time new wounds had formed over his skin which brought you some kind of relief.

As you lightly skimmed over his healing wounds, you sighed. “Joon, you said the company uses your abilities to make the medicine.” You spoke up. “I'm assuming yours has to do with your skin.” You told him.

“My dragon scales are some of the most powerful things known in my world.” Namjoon began. “Much like Yoongi's blood, it can heal just about anything if mixed correctly with other medicinal ingredients.” He looked down, sighing to himself. “HYBE uses them for burn ointment.”

Your hand fell from his back, a sharp gasp falling from your lips. “This is abuse Namjoon!” You cried out. “It's inhumane.”

“Everyone knows that Little one.” He turned around, moving you to stand between his legs. “But we haven't found a way out yet.” He softly told you.

“Then I'll go to the police.” You shook your head, sniffling as your nose began to get stuffed. Your fingers moved up to his shoulders, lightly touching his skin.

“That involves gathering evidence.” Namjoon told you. “That's too dangerous.”

He pulled you into his arms, hugging you to his chest. You fell over into his lap, pressing your cheek to his chest. “Just please, leave it to us and we'll figure it out.”

“I want to help you, Joon.” You softly pouted.

“I know you do.” Namjoon placed his head atop yours, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. You could feel him start to warm up, causing you to shift closer to the warmth. “And that means more to me than you'll ever know.”

As his body brought a soothing feeling down your spine, you began to think about the others and what they must suffer from. You weren’t in charge of them to know the kind of tests they had to go through; Jungkook was the only one you knew about.

You knew he had to spit into a cup, causing dry mouth for him often. It wasn’t as extreme as Namjoon but you knew it was still bothersome to have dry mouth.

“The tests Jungkook has to do.” You pulled back to look at Namjoon. “What do they use his saliva for?”

Namjoon hummed, moving along his bed with you in his lap. He made himself comfortable along the pillows. You moved around for a bit, finding the perfect place to lay back. You had settled for turning around in his lap, back to his chest.

“Jungkook is a werewolf, as you know.” He started. “His saliva has healing properties for superficial injuries. It can heal any kind of penetrative wound over the skin. They make another cream with it.” He told you.

“And the others?” You asked quietly, pulling your knees closer.

Namjoon felt your emotions change into something akin to depression. So he wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you closer to him. You suddenly smelled the most soothing aroma ever. It calmed you down immediately, almost like lavender would. It didn’t take away from your worry but you felt relaxed.

“Jin is an elf, which means he has a long life span. They take his DNA for patients with disabilities caused by old age.” Namjoon explained.

“What do they take?” You asked.

“His blood.” You purse your lips, dropping your shoulders.

“Jimin has this water resistant substance on his body, it makes him aware of his surroundings in water. They take it off him for medication having to do with water in the lung: Bronchitis, pneumonia, the flu.” The man continued. “ Yoongi, has venom that mixes with blood to cause some kind of reaction.”

You remembered Twilight when Namjoon talked about venom. “Is that what is used to turn people into vampires?” You asked.

“Yes.” Namjoon chuckled at your question. “They create blood related medicines with it.”

The boys were all kinds of magical creatures that you read about in books. They had their own powers and abilities. While you really wanted to learn all about them, you knew you wouldn’t be able to with them trapped in this hell.

You sighed to yourself, thinking about how you applied to this job. You should have taken notice of all the red flags. The fact that you didn’t know what they focused on was probably the biggest one. And yet here you still were–blinded by wanting a job to keep you afloat.

You knew if you hadn’t taken the chance you wouldn’t have met the boys. And they would probably still be stuck here for another 10 years. You were going to try your best at taking them out; they deserved so much more.

“What about Taehyung and Hobi?” You turned to look at him.

“Taehyung has this ability where he can manipulate his magical energy. They extract it from him in order to create the medicine, it's like an activator.”

Your first thought was if Taehyung was the only faerie having to struggle with that. You remembered how he had burst into Yoongi’s room talking about how he exploded his energy and gave himself the gash. You knew you had seen it.

“Are there more faeries here?” You asked.

“I think there's one more. Her name is Hanni, she's just a child.” Namjoon sighed.

You knew Namjoon cared about more than just the seven boys. He was the first patient to be kidnapped. So he knew much more than anyone else. Seeing all those other people be brought in, must have been painful for him.

“Hobi is a different case. He's more of a just-in-case type deal. His magic has the ability to put anyone to sleep as well as hypnotize and cast spells. He can also heal people.” Namjoon continued.

“Can all of you just heal people?” You snorted.

“Hobi's healing is a lot more helpful than ours. I mean, I have to rip my skin off and Yoongi has to give blood. It's easier for him.” He shrugged.

“I understand.” You nodded. “Hobi and Taehyung seem like very powerful people.”

“They were one of the first creatures to ever be created. So they tend to have the most magical energy.” Namjoon explained. “Behind dragons.” He added a teasing smile on his face.

“Are you bragging?” You laughed.

“No, in my word.” Namjoon looked offended. “Dragons are the oldest living creatures in my entire world.”

“Sounds believable.” You giggled, leaning further against his chest.

There was a silence that made you comfortable. You could feel Namjoon’s chest rising and falling with each breath he took. If the scent you had smelled earlier hadn’t already relaxed you, Namjoon’s breathing would have. His fingers were splayed out on your tummy, his thumb rubbing against you.

He froze for a few seconds before going back to paying you attention. “I'll see you later, Kook wants attention.” He patted your thigh, making you move off him.

You looked at him skeptically, turning on your knees. “How do you know?”

“Magic.” He grinned. “I'll tell you later.”

He walked you to his door, giving you a pat on the head as you walked out. You giggled, setting into the hallway without looking. As your body passed Namjoon’s door, you quickly bumped into someone making you look up.

“I'm sorry.” You told them man.

“It's alright.” He gave you a smile that made you uneasy. “You're the new nurse.”

“Yes.” You told him, looking down to the floor.

“Jungkook's.” He looked up at the door you had walked out of. “And Namjoon's, I see.”

“Yes. Excuse me, I should be going now.” You quickly said, wanting to get away from the man.

“Of course.” He told you. “Have a nice day.” He waved you off as you fast walked to Jungkook’s room.

With how disturbed you were feeling, Namjoon was quick to step out into the hall. His eyebrows pinched together in anger when they landed on Kyong staring at you. When Jungkook’s door opened and you had disappeared, Kyong turned to the man.

“Hello, Namjoon. How are you today?” Kyong asked the man.

“What do you want Kyong?” He asked, turning his nose up.

“Just visiting.” He shrugged. “Haven't been in such a long time.” He placed his hands into his pockets, looking back down the hall. “Do be careful with that nurse.” He hummed. “She seems to be hiding something.”

Namjoon almost growled at the look Kyong gave him. He didn’t need to be a mind reader to know that Kyong was suspicious of you. However he didn’t want the man to know that you were special to them.

“Wouldn't want anything to happen to her.”

Series Masterlist

@h3arteyes4mingi , @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh , @rinkud, @rln-byg , @singukieee , @hoshi-is-ult-bbg , @ldysmfrst , @k-p0p-4ever , @shadowyjellyfishfest , @forestsquirrel , @juju-227592 , @alienchickenpoop , @dreamerwasfound , @afangirl91 , @psiphidragon , @puppyminnnie , @girl-nahh , @shyloh-the-cornsnake , @oemmi2005 , @ollyoxenfrees , @whynotlarene , @beeltsumu , @cryingpages , @milopenne , @belikejk , @bts-4-life-ot7 , @woozixo, @serveruslovebot ,

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keen-li · 4 months

Text

BTS FIC NAVIGATION .

NAMJOON

~none yet~

SEOKJIN

~none yet~

YOONGI

~none yet~

HOSEOK

~none yet~

JIMIN

~none yet~

TAEHYUNG

HOUSE OF CARDS

-> 01

JUNGKOOK

SERIES

▪︎what you need:

Synopsis: everybody needs, but how do you define need? Do you even know what you need.

Genre: best friends au, angst, fluff, smut, slow burn.

Jungkook x reader. [Active series]

▪︎CLAWED : convict jk x investigator/ police officer fem reader

-> 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | [ON HOLD]

▪︎RENEGADE : junkie-ish jungkook x fem reader | pregnancy au

-> 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | completed

▪︎MARMALADE : fuckboy jk x college student fem reader

-> 00 | 01 | [ON HOLD]

Synopsis: "I won't tell your brother as long as we keep fucking"

Drabble series: FROZEN MARMALADE:Xmas special |

NEW YEAR,NEW MARMALADE;new year special.

▪︎ONLY ONE : psychiatrist jk x fem mental patient reader

-> 01 | 02 | 03 | [ON HOLD]

ONESHOTS

▪︎cookies

->military au

▪︎"oppa"

-> a little public indecency, a little honesty and a little person.

#fanfic #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon fanfic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #jhope fanfic #jimin fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic

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goldensugarywaffles · 2 years

Text

Curiosity Killed the Cat (6)

Waffle’s Note: Hello everyone I’m back. Sorry for the long wait, this summer had been really hard on me. I had some family members pass away and couldn’t bring myself to write. This chapter is short (consider it an intermission chapter) but I hope you’ll forgive me for that. Chapter 7 is in the works and will be much longer than this one. Have a good day <3

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, stalking, language, allusions to death/violence, objectification.

Taglist: @tito-the-mermaid @juju-227592 @hangsang-jh @thedarkwinterrose @zahraaelamira

Inspired by @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue (Check out her phenomenal work)

When you woke up the pounding in your head was so bad you thought your head would split open. You groaned, leaning forward to rest your head in your hands until you hit something cool and solid. Reeling back, you opened your eyes, your hazy vision becoming clear. When your vision finally focused, your heart stopped. You were surrounded by dolls, hundreds of them. Each one sealed in a pristine glass case. It was like nothing had changed, except this time, you were inside a case of your own. Frantically, you search for your gun or any tool to help you escape. You curse when you come up short. The fucker had changed your clothes. Getting closer to the glass, you stare at your reflection in horror. You looked like a barbie doll. You were donning a sparkly pink ballgown with pink heels to match, your hair was styled perfectly, and even your makeup was done with extreme detail. The only thing ruining the perfect illusion was the heavy chains attached to your ankles, strategically hidden by the dress.

Taking deep breaths, you steel yourself. The last thing you needed was a panic attack. You yank on the chains as hard as possible, grunting at the force. Over and over, you pull with as much force as possible. “You and I both know that won’t work,” you whip your head around at the sound of a familiar voice. Glaring at the figure hiding in the darkness, you seethe, "Shut up. Once I get out of here, I’ll pummel you with my bare hands." The figure chuckles, “After everything we’ve been through? I thought our relationship was stronger than that Y/n.” Finally recognizing the voice, a wave of nausea rushes through you, “Haeun?” Your supposed friend steps out of the shadows, an unreadable expression on her face. If it wasn't for her shaking hands, you'd almost think she was proud of what she'd done.

Out of everyone you knew, Haeun was the last person you expected to betray you. You and Haeun’s relationship went deep and was far more complex than outsiders realized. She was your partner in crime, the only person you trusted, and worst of all, your best friend. You and Haeun only had each other for years, and while you knew that you both had issues you needed to work through at times, you never expected this. Besides Soohyun, Haeun was the only one to know about your kidnapper and the trauma that came with it. She had spent many nights holding you tight and whispering reassurances in your ear as you sobbed, shaken from the nightmares that plagued you. You glare at her, the hurt on your face clear as day, “How could you?”

Haeun looks away as if seeing you in the glass pains her despite being the one who put you there. "Y/n, I would never betray you without reason. You believe me, right? I would never want to hurt you." Slamming your fists on the glass, you scream, "Bullshit!” She stutters, not used to hearing you shout. While you have always been ruthless, shouting was never your style, preferring to always keep a level head. “Y/n please-" you slam your fists against the glass again, not allowing her to defend herself. She had no right to try and justify her actions. You're packaged up like a mint condition collectible doll and it's her fault.

Before you could tear into Haeun, you were cut off by a new set of heavy footsteps. "Doll where are your manners? My sweet little sister went through a lot of trouble to bring you back to me. You should be grateful.” Your blood went cold at the sound of his voice. It was different from your nightmares, yet eerily familiar. It was deeper now and much calmer than before. Back then, you could practically hear the insanity dripping off his every word. Haeun freezes up, fear taking hold of her body. "Donghyun, I didn’t mean to-," he cuts her off with a soft shushing sound, patting her head endearingly. Donghyun? You had heard that name before. According to the files you read on the task force, he was Hoseok’s partner. You scoff in disgust; the police force clearly hires any nutjob that could fire a gun.

Donghyun circles the case slowly, humming in approval at your current state. Pressing his palm to the glass, you barely restrain your flinch. Looking at the doll he lost so long ago, his face morphs into a sickening grin. “Oh doll, how I've missed you. It's been so long since I've had the opportunity to see you up close. I tried to keep an eye on you when I became a detective, but that stupid task force kept you from me. I had to depend on little Haeunie to keep you safe.” You don’t respond, merely giving the man a blank stare. He chuckles, pleased at how fast his favorite toy is learning. “I’ll be back at dinner time. Until then, Haeunie can explain the rules to you.” Donghyun places a kiss against the case, his dry lips staining the glass. You recoil as if he burned you, but if the action bothered him he doesn't show it as he stalks out of the room.

The room is dead silent save for Haeun’s soft breaths. Clearly, she feared her brother just as much as you did, but you had no empathy. She wasn't the one in a box. With a shaky breath, Haeun begins talking, probably explaining the “rules” to you as Donghyun had instructed. You weren't listening; you did not plan on being trapped for long. You were sure your subordinates were scrambling to find you; if they weren't, your boys were probably already on their way. Wait. When did they become my boys? You shake your head to help clear your thoughts. You could unpack all those emotions later. For now, escaping should be the only thing on your mind, and you need a plan in case no one can find you.

“He loves you Y/n. This is his sick, twisted, and demented way of showing it, but I promise you he loves you. More than anything in this world,” Haeun’s words drag you back to the present. You regard her with a look of indifference, “Tell Donghyun to get in line. I have several admirers at the moment, and he'll have to wait his turn." Haeun frowns but chooses not to argue with you. While she knew what she did was wrong, Haeun would do it again if she had to. Donghyun was a mess without you. He wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, and cried daily. She refused to sit by and watch her brother waste away. He'd be dead if Haeun didn't promise to bring you back. With a huff, Haeun turns to leave, making it to the doorway before your voice stops her.

“Are your favorite flowers still poppies?”

Hauen pauses at the random question. “Yes?”

You give her a bright smile, one that’s so genuine it scares her, “I’ll make sure to put plenty on your grave.”

Haeun doesn’t answer, closing the door behind her and locking you in.

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accio-victuuri · 8 hours

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April CPNs round-up! ❤️💛💚

• BJYX shows up in station sisters team building photos/videos. proving that the pairing is still very much relevant and loved 🫶🏼

• allegedly spending some time together 4/2 and 4/3 when yibo went to shanghai

• cql and xz gets mentioned in a livestream for WoF

• wyb with a beaded bracelet that seems to be a clue that he spent time with GG ; more on the initial thoughts about the bracelet and why give an obsidian one

•zsww fake rumor of their meet up

•their love for watching old cctv spring festival gala sketches

• 4/8, in the FPU douyin update, he continues on with the dog theme ☺️ he really is a puppy! gouzaizai!

• not really a cpn/candy but their name side by side for the alleged registration list for Magnolia Award. i’m just so proud and as a cpf, it feels good seeing them succeed. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

• 4/8 cpns : fan used for camping that xz uses, the number 38 and us clowning about concerts

• some are comparing this interaction between wyb and hjy in FPU bts with how he is with GG. saying when he is hurt, he goes all out and shows it to GG but with others he won’t say anything. i agree that this thing is true both for GG/WYB, meaning they only show “weakness” to each other 🥺🥺🥺

* throwback post : fake rumor story during cql shoot of someone that works closely with yibo

• this side by side photo, they look alike in this profile!

• 4/16/24 zsww rumor

• the rumor that wyb visited LOZ shoot and my thoughts on it ; i know i cannot stop people from “enjoying” this material and what it potentially implies but i personally cannot condone the type of behavior that disrespects them. especially xz who has been v frustrated with the leaks happening in his project. and just to dispel the rumors, this is who people are saying is supposedly yibo ⬇️⬇️⬇️

🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

no shade to this guy. he was just a victim of people’s overzealous tendencies. this is not the first time cpfs have done this, in OOL and OnO we’ve had questionable video evidences too which is most likely not who we think it is. please stop. it’s not just the leaks. we have to protect them. we know they visit each other, let’s just bridge the clues with what they give us. we cpn that they visit the ST or probably even follow certain cpf accounts, there is just no universe that they will see this kind of conversations related to leaked photos and videos and be happy about it.

• DESCENDANTS OF THE SUN AU 😭😭😭😭 idk man. military/police wyb and doctor xz pairing is really top notch!

• 4/19 xiao zhan weibo post for the 6th solar term - Guyu ( Grain Rain ) and all the clowning: one / two

• 4/20 zsww rumor ; hinting at them working on a project where one will direct and the other will act

• WYB’s GQ hat could be a custom made one from Tod’s????

• A new explanation about the mystery driver and comparing it to the mask WYB uses

• There has been some conversation because of WYB’s bazaar shoot with his FPU co star/team and that it’s no longer just XZ that he has done that with. Well i have to say that no matter what people say, the bazaar one with XZ is different. just the production value and theme of it — was more romantic and WYB was totally expressive. plus don’t forget that the shoot for that was where xz called him Venus. it will always be special, cause it’s just the 2 of them. there is no use comparing, i bet you, xz will have a joint cover or spread for LOCH with the female lead. it is part of marketing.

• yibo and his rainbow necklace 🌈

• I will add this here cause i don’t think it needs a separate post with how galaxy brain it is. it’s about certain photos uploaded by YBO being 2.3 MB in size. 23 love zhan. whether this is intentional or something special. who knows. it just came up again this month because the bear photo is with the same file size. 🤷🏻‍♀️

other instances are outlined by this account on weibo :

February 3, 2:30 pm (Picture 1) // May 11 (Picture 3) // June 1st, Children’s Day, “Children are in love” (Picture 5) // August 5th, birthday composition (Picture 7)// November 22 (Picture 9)

• 4/29 zsww fake rumor

• GUCCI wall 2.0 is close to Lacoste big screen ad! oh the possibilities!

• 4/29 candies to enjoy ( includes: their promos not overlapping, jiayou parallel, double standards and the bead bracelet discussion again )

See you all next month! ✌🏼💛

<<< previous month

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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fabseg-reader · 4 months

Text

This is a Lilanette/Cerisette wip.

I planify this draft for the @mlbfemslashfebruary event. I will color that in next weeks.

In this draft, Lila/Cerise and Marinette play rock music together. Lila/Cerise plays electric guitar and Marinette plays keyboard. And they make an illegal concert. In this AU, the Supreme from the Re-Verse has forbidden the music. The latter's logo gets vandalized.

About their fashion styles, I am based on Heavy Metal. The two girls remind me of JEM, A Star Is Born, Lady Gaga and some Rock Bands (Europe, The Who, Guns N'Roses, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Nirvana, Twisted Sister).

Lila/Cerise's hair is a wig with a sky-blue dye. Marinette is just Emonette-Shadybug.

Marinette is the Ladybug and Cerise is the new Hesperia for this concept.

In this AU, there is a band called Kitty Resistance (the Kitty Section counterpart). The two girls collaborate with this band.

Bonus (Cerise breaks her guitar):

Bonus/The Cerisette playlist be like:

Extended list:

AC/DC - Highway To Hell

Guns N'Roses - You Could Be Mine

Evanescence - Bring Me To Life

Zedd ft. Ariana Grande - Break Free

Bon Jovi - It's My Life

Linkin Park - Numb

Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall

Bella Ciao

Motley Crue - Kickstart My Heart

Queen - I Want It All; The Show Must Go On; I Want To Break Free

The Police - So Lonely; Every Breath You Take

Coldplay - A Sky Full Of Stars; My Universe (ft. BTS)

Van Halen - Panama

Kiss - I was Made For Loving You

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kingofbodyrolls · 8 months

Text

Coming Home (m) | PJM | Part one

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

Summary: When your best friend, Park Jimin, who you’ve had a crush on since forever, suggests you stay at his house to heal and find yourself again after a series of traumatizing events had haunted you for years, you don’t hesitate to accept. Within those walls, a safe haven is woven, where wounds can heal and memories find release. As he nurtures your shattered spirit, an unexpected intimacy unfurls, leaving the fragile barrier between friendship and deeper emotions in question - can you keep your feelings hidden?

Pairing: Jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)

Other characters: Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, OC (female, she is the therapist) and another OC (male, he is the perp). Also readers parents and mention of Jimin's.

AUs: Best friends to lovers!au, detective!jimin Genres/themes: thriller/dark, yandere vibes, slice of life, healing after trauma, angst, smut and fluff.

Rating: mature/explicit/R18

Word count: 20K

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: Mention of past abuse and sexual assault (r*pe), trauma, stalking, trust issues, insecurities, thriller vibes, angst, fluff, slice of life, healing after trauma (including therapy sessions), blood (only in the beginning), BIG feelings, protective Jimin, previous character death (a parent), Jimin being soft and loving, self defense.

Disclaimer about warnings: I know nothing about sexual or physical abuse (I only know psychological because I experienced that, not in a sexual context though). This story is fiction, I do not mean to say that this is how one would go through their emotions or handle this situation. This is a delicate and fragile subject, so proceed with caution. I also know nothing about police work or the work in emergency/hospitals.

Also, I don’t own BTS or know how they would act in a similar situation. This story is purely fiction, a fragment of my imagination. They just inspire me so much 💜

Cross posted to AO3!

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings

Rain pelts down relentlessly, each drop a sharp reminder of the danger chasing you.

The downpour blurs the line between raindrops and tears as they cascade down your face.

Clothes cling to your skin, suffocating, strangling.

Keep moving, keep running, the mantra plays on a loop in your mind.

With each pounding heartbeat, the echo of footsteps grows louder. The adrenaline coursing through your veins drowns out the sound of the rain, but the fear in your heart is deafening.

Each breath is a desperate gasp, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth and the promise of danger lurking in the shadows.

Every second counts, and the darkness seems to conspire against your escape, threatening to swallow you whole. Amidst the chaos, doubt gnaws at your resolve.

Why did things have to turn out this way?

Could you have done something differently?

But you push those thoughts away; now is not the time for self-doubt.

The world around you blurs, but your heart beats like a war drum, urging you to escape the nightmare chasing your every step. Clenching your fits, you find a sliver of strength and determination within yourself, vowing to fight until the very end.

Your tears mix with the rain, blurring your vision again, but you can’t afford to stop. The pain in your chest isn’t just from exhaustion; it’s the weight of a thousand regrets and shattered dreams.

Memories flash before your eyes like lightning strikes, and you wonder if you’ll ever get a normal life again. But amidst the turmoil, one thought anchors you: survival.

The empty streets seem to stretch endlessly, dim streetlights casting flickering shadows that dance around you. An eerie feeling tightens in your chest - what if he had followed you?

Exhaustion gnaws at your limbs as you continue to run, legs turning to jelly beneath you. In the distance, a familiar fence and yard comes into view, you feel a twinge of hope surrounding your heart.

You quicken your pace, stumbling forward, almost there.

The front door is within reach, and relief wash over you.

You slam your body against the door, desperate for refuge. Pain sears through your shoulder, but you hardly notice.

Knocking feverishly, you hope someone, anyone, will answer in this dark hour. But the silence that follows only heightens the fear bubbling within you.

The wind whispers, carrying with it haunting whispers that seem to echo your own terror.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

His eyes snap open, frustration already creeping into his mind. What in the world is going on outside this time?

Those blasted drunk teenagers just never seem to learn, do they? Groaning, he begrudgingly leaves the comfort of his bed, fatigue tugging at every step he takes down the hall to the front door.

Should he open it and scold them?

Or maybe he should just yell from inside?

“Go home and sleep it off!” he yells, clenching his jaw with irritation.

Just as he turns to retreat to his bed, the knocking grows louder and more insistent. He can’t ignore it any longer, and what’s worse, he hears someone crying amidst the chaos. Mortified by the possibility that someone might be hurt, he gives in and opens the door.

What greets him, he had not expected at all.

You.

As the door swings open, your heart leaps with relief, and tears of joy blur your vision.

There he is, Jimin, your best friend of countless years, his dark brown eyes locking into yours.

Without a second thought, you rush inside, seeking refuge in the familiar space of his home.

Your back collides with the nearest wall, and you bury your face in your hands, overcome with emotions you’ve been holding back for too long. Jimin is taken aback by your sudden appearance, his mind racing to process what just happened, as he runs a hand through his dark locks.

It takes a moment for him to register that it’s in fact you, his dearest friend, standing before him after a long period of time. He can’t help but look you up and down, trying to find words that seem to escape him in this moment of surprise and bewilderment.

His eyes widen, mouth agape, as he struggles to comprehend the sight before him.

“Close and lock the door, dammit!” your voice trembles, the fear palpable in every syllable. Shivering uncontrollably, you stand on the threshold of his home, vulnerable and on edge.

Jimin snaps out of his stupor and hurriedly complies, shutting the door in a swift motion. He watches you, torn between terror and warmth reflected in his eyes. Seeing you in such distress, his heart aches, but he knows not how to ease your pain.

You stand here, trembling and panting, a state he’s never witnessed before. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a comforting embrace, but your body remains unresponsive, numb to the touch.

“What in the world happened to you?!” Jimin’s eyes widen in shock as he tightly grips your arms, searching for answers in your tear-filled eyes. You can’t meet his gaze and instead fidget with your fingers, the burden of your secret weighing heavy on your heart.

With a sudden realization, Jimin’s eyes dart downward, and he gasps as he sees your bare and bloodied feet.

“OMG! You are bleeding! Did you run here barefoot? What happened?” he urgently asks, his mind racing with concern.

He rushes into the kitchen, his voice a mix of worry and instructions to stay put. You can’t find the words to explain, so you merely nod as he returns with bandages and a glass of water.

The sound of your sobbing fills the room as Jimin carefully tends to your injured feet, his hands gentle and comforting. He’s always been there for you, a pillar of support, and in this moment, you’re reminded of why he’s your best friend.

The glass of water he hands you feels like salvation, a small act of kindness that speaks volumes about the bond you share.

As the silence envelopes the room, you take a deep breath, unsure of how to articulate the series of events that led you here.

Jimin sits besides you, his presence a source of solace, and you feel a flicker of courage to share your pain. You know that you can trust him, that he’ll listen without judgment, and that thought alone is enough to make you feel a little less alone.

“We need to get you to a doctor,” Jimin begins to say, but you immediately shake your head, chanting ‘no’ repeatedly, your heart pounding in your chest. An uneasiness settles in Jimin’s expression, his concern growing with every passing second.

“You have been missing for five fucking years!” Jimin’s voice raises, a mix of frustration and desperation evident in his tone. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and implores you to slow down and relax.

The gravity of his words sinks in, and your whole world comes to a halt.

Five years? It couldn’t have been more than a few months, you think in disbelief.

You lock eyes with him, and the floodgates of your emotions burst open. What started as sobs turns into pained screams and gut-wrenching cries. Your whole body vibrates with anguish, and in that moment, you find comfort in Jimin’s embrace.

Being in his arms feels like coming home, and you instantly feel safe, your body beginning to relax under his touch.

“I have to call the police, Y/N, and you know that,” Jimin says with a heavy heart. Deep down, you know he’s right, but the thought of facing what happened to you is terrifying.

You nod, trying to hold back the tears that fall from your red, swollen eyes, the realization of your missing years cruising you from all sides.

Jimin leads you into the kitchen, gesturing for you to take a seat on a worn stool beside the counter.

As you sit down, your eyes wander around the room, landing on familiar photos adorning the walls. Some feature Jimin, his family, and others of you both together, capturing moments of laughter and joy. A bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you remember the warmth of those times.

Jimin’s presence beside you is both comforting and heartbreaking. The burden of the past five years hangs heavily in the air, unspoken but palpable.

Despite the reunion, a sense of distance lingers between you, as if the chasm of time has carved an unbridgeable gap.

“Y/N, I have to make the call now,” he says softly, his voice laced with concern.

“I promise I’ll find you some new clothes and finish taking care of your feet afterward” his words are reassuring, but you can’t help the unease gnawing at your heart.

The prospect of facing the consequences of your disappearance looms before you, and you can’t help but wonder how much has changed in your absence. You glance at the photos once more, your smile now tinged with melancholy. The memories they hold are precious, reminders of the bond you share with Jimin, but they also serve as a reminder of the time you can never get back.

As Jimin steps away to make the call, you find solace in the familiarity of the kitchen, a place that once felt like a second home. The creaking of the floorboards and the faint scent of a home cooked meal bring a sense of nostalgia, but the gravity of the present is too heavy to ignore.

Uncertainty lingers like a shadow, and you wonder how your life will unfold from this point on.

Still sobbing, you watch as Jimin rushes around the house, his voice firm and commanding as he makes the urgent phone call.

“It’s Y/N! You have to come now. Yes! Y/N! Get your asses down here. Get all of them!”

The gravity of the situation settles heavily in the room, leaving you both anxious. Jimin returns with a first aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. He kneels before you, gently inspecting your injured feet again. The pain is excruciating, and you instinctively pull away, hissing at the contact.

“It hurts” you cry out, tears streaming down your cheeks.

His worried gaze meets yours, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain.

“I bet it does… Where have you been?… I have so many questions,” he says, gesturing with his hands. As you place your feet back in his hands, he notices the depth of the cuts, and his concern deepens.

He realizes that you must have endured a long and harrowing journey to get such severe injuries. You find it hard to answer his questions; there’s so much to say, yet the words fail to form, you feel a mix of guilt, fear, and relief at being found, but the overwhelming weight of the past five years makes it difficult to find the right words.

So you remain silent, unable to provide the answers he seeks. Jimin accepts your silence for now, recognizing that the wounds go far beyond the physical cuts.

He gently tends to your injuries with gauze and the bandages from earlier, his touch a mixture of tenderness and sorrow.

The unspoken questions hang in the air, leaving both of you grappling with the uncertainty of the future. You both forget the prospect of a new change of the clothes he promised as time tickles by.

About ten minutes later, a sharp knocking at the door sends a shiver down your spine, and you freeze in place. Jimin offers reassurance, but the anxiety hangs heavy in the air as he walks to open the door.

In come a group of uniformed police officers, and trailing behind them, you spot medics from the ambulance.

The realization that your disappearance is something serious only adds to the anxiety gnawing at your heart.

One of the officers stands out from the rest, with mint hair that catches your attention. He exchanges greetings with Jimin, referring to him as ‘Detective Park’, and you deduce that they must work together.

It dawns on you that Jimin has achieved his childhood dream of becoming a detective. It pulls at your heart strings, proudness filling your heart.

The man with mint hair approaches you, introducing himself as Detective Min Yoongi. His calm and composed demeanor sets you at ease momentarily. “Hey Y/N, is it alright if I ask you some questions?” he says, his voice smooth and unwavering.

As the atmosphere fills with tension and unspoken questions, you brace yourself for what lies ahead.

The presence of the police and the sudden arrival of the whole police squad hint at the gravity of the situation, leaving everybody in the room on edge.

The minutes tick by, and the gravity of your disappearance and the uncertainty of the future loom large.

“Dammit Min! Let us take care of her first before you make her re-play what happened to her!” An unfamiliar voice shouts, the paramedic’s frustration evident in the sharp tone.

You glance over and see a tall man with broad shoulders approaching, carrying a bag of medical supplies. Behind him, a younger guy with a smile as bright as the sun follows closely.

The tension in the room heightens as Detective Yoongi steps aside to let the two medics pass.

The tall man’s protective stance and the younger guy’s warm demeanor catch your attention. Their presence offers a glimmer of relief amidst the uncertainty that surrounds you.

The paramedic’s concern is palpable, and you feel a wave of gratitude for someone looking out for you in this disorienting moment.

Detective Yoongi, on the other hand, seems resolute in his approach, keen on getting to the bottom of what happened.

The conflict between his determination and the medics’ insistence on prioritizing your well-being leaves you torn and uncertain of what to expect next.

As the medics attend to you, their professionalism and care give you a sense of security. The man with the broad shoulders, voice’s boldness in defending you feels like a comforting aid, assuring you that you’re not alone in facing whatever ordeal lies ahead.

With a mix of emotions swirling inside you, the room becomes a whirlwind of activity.

“Hi. I’m Seokjin, and this is my buddy, Hoseok. We’re going to take a look at your cuts on your feet and determine if you have to ride with us to the hospital, okay?”

Seokjin’s voice is gentle and comforting as he introduces himself and Hoseok. They both exchange a side-eye with detective Min, unimpressed by his approach.

You feel a glimmer of relief at the soothing tone of the medics, finding comfort in their presence. You allow the paramedics to tend to your feet, the pain and discomfort still fresh from your barefoot run. Hoseok unwraps the bandages Jimin had put on you, inspects your feet and notices the bruises. Instantly, you withdraw your legs, hiding them under your gown, as if trying to shield yourself from further scrutiny.

The sudden attention draws everyone’s gaze, making you feel exposed and vulnerable.

“I, I…” you stammer, looking down, afraid to share the source of your bruises.

Your voice trails off, and fear grips your heart. However, the medics’ caring demeanor slowly breaks through your defenses, reminding you that they are here to help, not harm.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” Seokjin says, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

You flinch, instinctively trying to pull away from the touch, unable to fully accept comfort in this moment.

Hoseok and Seokjin exchange a knowing glance, understanding the depth of your unease.

Instead of pushing further, they give you space and time to process. Their empathy creates a safe space, allowing you to slowly open up and trust in their care.

With their gentle presence and understanding, you start to feel a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you can get through this.

As the paramedics continue to tend to your injuries, you notice that all the police officers have circled around Jimin, engaging in small talk.

The room feels charged with tension, and you can tell that Jimin is both grateful for their support and eager to ensure that you receive the care you need. Jimin’s gaze shifts back to you, concern evident in his eyes as he observes the way you deflect any attempts at physical touch.

His mind races, trying to understand the reasons behind your reaction. He’s torn between joining the police officers and focusing on your well-being. Hoseok’s interruption brings him back to the present.

“We should take her to the hospital to get checked,” he suggests, pulling Jimin’s attention away from the crowd. “It’s hard to determine the extent of her injuries here.”

Jimin’s heart sinks at the realization that your injuries might be more severe than he initially thought. He feels a sense of urgency to ensure that you receive proper medical attention, yet he knows that he can’t push you to do something you’re not comfortable with.

“I’ll go with her,” Jimin says, the determination in his voice clear.

He glances back at the police officers, who nod in understanding. They trust his judgment and know that your well-being is his top priority.

As Hoseok and Seokjin prepare to take you to the hospital, Jimin steps beside you, offering a gentle smile.

“You don’t have to worry. We’ll all take care of you” he reassures, his voice soft and comforting. He understands that you may be hesitant, but he’s determined to support you every step of the way.

With Jimin’s unwavering support, you find a flicker of reassurance amidst the uncertainty.

“Jin is just going to get the stretcher from the ambulance, and then we can go to the hospital,” Hoseok says reassuringly. You nod, the load of exhaustion settling heavily on your shoulders.

Your body feels like it weighs a ton, and even the simplest tasks seem daunting. Seokjin arrives with the stretcher, and you manage to sit down with the help of Hoseok.

“Please lie down, and we will secure you.” he says with an encouraging smile. The softness of his voice offers a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos.

At your side, Detective Min Yoongi appears, determined to take your statement.

The idea of reliving the events feels overwhelming, and you shake your head, too tired to delve into the details.

“I think it will be alright for her to get checked out at the hospital first, no?” Seokjin suggests, his voice firm yet understanding.

The conflict between the detective and the paramedics become apparent, each prioritizing their own objectives. Detective Yoongi grumbles his acceptance, a begrudging nod signaling his reluctant agreement.

As the paramedics wheel you out of Jimin’s house and towards the waiting ambulance, you feel a mix of emotions - exhaustion, uncertainty, and relief.

The events of the night have taken a toll, and the path ahead remains uncertain. But for now, you take solace in the reassurance of the paramedics and the support of Jimin and his colleagues.

On the way out, Jimin informs you that he’ll follow in his car since he couldn’t be with you in the ambulance.

You’re secretly relieved that the paramedics insisted on you riding alone.

In the ambulance, Hoseok gently tends to your feet again, his touch soft and comforting as he removes the gauze. You wince as he cleans the wounds properly, the pain a sharp reminder of the night’s events.

“How come you have all these cuts on your feet?” Hoseok’s voice carries a mix of curiosity and concern, and you can sense his genuine desire to understand and help. He wraps your feet in fresh bandages, his soothing gaze never leaving you.

“I ran barefoot,” you offer a simple answer, not yet ready to delve into the details.

“But why were you not wearing any shoes?” Hoseok persists, his gentle tone an attempt to coax the truth from you.

“I didn’t have time to grab them” you reply, turning your head away, already weary of the questions.

Hoseok’s caring eyes sweep over you, and he notices the black and yellow discolorations on your legs and arms. His concern deepens as he observes the evidence of further injuries.

“I know you’re tired and don’t like me asking questions, but I need to ask some to help you, you know?” he explains, trying to establish a connection with you.

You flinch when he places his hand on your skin, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Memories of the past five years flood your mind, and you can’t help but pull away, mortified by the unwanted touch. The burden of your experiences is heavy, and sharing them feels like an insurmountable task.

Yet, amidst your discomfort, you find a glimmer of hope in Hoseok’s genuine concern, knowing that he may be the one to help you find the strength to voice the events.

You take a deep breath, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. You know you must tell Hoseok, and later, Detective Yoongi too. Gathering all your courage and mental strength, you feel your body tense as you prepare to share the painful truth.

“I was abducted and abused,” you say in a faint, low voice, your eyes darting away, unsure about the reaction you'll receive.

The weight of the words hangs heavily in the air, and you feel Hoseok’s presence, supportive and patient, as you struggle to find the right words.

You take another breath, steadying yourself before continuing, “And sexually assaulted” you whisper, almost as if speaking any louder would cause the memories to become too overpowering.

The silence that follows feels suffocating, but you know you can’t take back what you’ve shared.

Your vulnerability lies bare before Hoseok, and you wonder how he’ll respond. In this moment of revelation, you realize that speaking about your past is just the beginning of a journey towards healing.

You brace yourself for what comes next, hoping that the weight of your experiences will now be shared, lessening the burden you’ve carried for so long.

Hoseok looks at you, his eyes glistening with tears he’s trying to hold back, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m so, so sorry that happened to you” he murmurs, his voice is filled with raw emotion. He attempts to give you a reassuring smile. But the pain in his eyes betrays the facade.

The weight of your trauma hangs heavy in the air, making the atmosphere in the ambulance feel dense and suffocating. For the rest of the ride, Hoseok falls silent, the words caught in his throat.

The ambulance finally stops, and the doors open, revealing the outside world again.

As they wheel you out of the vehicle, Seokjin notices the tension between you and Hoseok. Concerned, he asks what happened, his gaze shifting between the two of you.

Hoseok hesitates, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. He’s torn between sharing the information with Jin and wanting to protect you from further pain.

In the end, he decides to keep his head down, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air. Feeling drowsy, you manage to recount the horrifying events to Seokjin, who listens with sadness in his eyes.

His reassurance that you’re safe now provides some comfort amidst the overwhelming emotions. “You should agree to get the sexual assault kit done. Maybe they can find the guy in the system, you never know.” he suggests, his concern evident in his voice.

As they wheel you inside the hospital, you find yourself surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses ready to help. Hoseok’s presence beside you provides a sense of security, and you notice how he smiles at a particular nurse with a boxy smile, displaying a reassuring camaraderie.

Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind “Jimin?” you ask, looking at Hoseok for reassurance.

“He will be right behind you in a moment. He’s probably parking his car” Hoseok assures you, waving as he and his partner step back outside.

As the nurses wheel you further into the hospital, you feel a mix of emotions - fear, exhaustion, and relief.

The trauma you’ve experienced still weighs heavily on your mind, but the support and care from those around you offer a glimmer of hope.

You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re in good hands, and that with the help of the hospital team, the police and your best friend, you’re one step closer to finding justice and healing.

Jimin keeps a short distance to the ambulance, his heart pounding in his chest as he refuses to lose track of it.

With each passing second, the urgency in his movements grows.

When the ambulance finally arrives at the hospital, he finds himself racing to find a parking space, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of you.

The ambulance is fortunate to park in front of the emergency department doors, allowing medical personnel to respond swiftly.

Jimin spots a free parking spot not too far away and practically dumps his car, almost forgetting to lock it in his haste. He dashes to the front doors, his feet carrying him as fast as they can.

As he approaches the emergency department, he spots the ambulance parked to the side, with Hoseok and Seokjin standing outside, restocking items.

His heart sinks at the sight of the ambulance, knowing that you’re probably inside, dealing with the aftermath of what must be a traumatic event.

Jimin’s emotions are a whirlwind - concern, worry, and determination. He knows he needs to be there for you, to offer support and comfort during this difficult time.

With a deep breath, he pushes forward, determined to be by your side.

Jimin arrives, panting and out of breath, his heart pounding as he seeks answers. As he reunites with Hoseok and Seokjin, his gaze instinctively searches for you, hoping to see you safe and cared for.

Your journey to healing has just begun, and Jimin is resolute in his commitment to stand by you every step of the way.

He greets Hoseok with a worried smile, but something is off. Hoseok’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, a telltale sign that something serious has happened.

“What happened?” he asks, the concern evident in his voice, upset that something has clearly affected his dear friend.

“It’s better that Y/N tells you…” Hoseok replies, turning away from Jimin, reluctant to share the details.

Jimin isn’t satisfied with that response.

Their years of friendship have given him the ability to sense when something is wrong with Hoseok. He reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, silently urging him to open up.

Seokjin intervenes, understanding the need to share the truth. He places his hands on the two friends, offering his support. With a sigh, he encourages Hoseok to speak.

“She was assaulted…”

Hoseok finally reveals, his voice carrying the weight of your trauma. Jimin freezes, his heart sinking at the revelation. He struggles to process the information, grappling with a mix of shock, anger, and a fierce desire to protect you.

“How?”

Jimin asks in a stern voice, determined to understand the details despite his internal turmoil. He knows he needs to be strong for you, but the truth is overwhelming. He braces himself for the answers, ready to face whatever comes next.

“... Sexually”

Hoseok’s usual sunshine and brightness vanished, leaving the outdoors heavy with the weight of the revelation. Jimin felt the anger take root in his body, making his blood boil. He was furious that such a thing could happen to you, and he regretted not being there to prevent it.

The surge of emotions overwhelmed him; he couldn’t bear the thought of you going through such pain.

“Thanks” he muttered, his voice tinged with urgency, and turned towards the doors in a hurry. He had to see you, make sure you were alright given the circumstances, and let you know he would be there for you no matter what.

But before he could leave, Hoseok’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

Turning back, he faced his friend, his heart pounding in his chest.

“There’s one more thing you should know…” Hoseok began, his expression filled with genuine sadness. Jimin braced himself for more devastating details, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

“She was also abused. Liked multiple times… probably over a long period of time.” Hoseok said with a frown, the burden of the truth evident in his words.

“What!?”

Jimin almost shouted, his emotions spiraling out of control. The reality of what you endured felt too much to bear. He needed to see you, to hold you close and reassure you that you were safe now.

Determination and love swelled within him, driving him forward. He had to be there for you, to let you know that he loved you and that he would protect you with everything he had.

As you settle into your hospital room, you feel grateful for the solitude, thankful to be the only patient in it at the moment.

The nurse with the boxy smile, Taehyung, you learned, tends to you with professionalism and attentiveness, his reassuring smiles putting you at ease. His presence feels like a calming force amidst the turmoil of recent events.

As he ensures your comfort, he gently inquires about what happened to you, just like the paramedics did earlier. Taking a deep breath, you recount the harrowing experience, trusting Taehyung to listen without judgment. His genuine concern is evident as he nods in understanding, offering you unwavering support.

Remembering Seokjin’s suggestion about the assault kit, you express your willingness to go through with it. Taehyung agrees that it’s a good idea and asks if you’d feel more comfortable with a female coworker conducting the examination.

You contemplate the option for a moment, acknowledging your vulnerability in this situation. Finally, you decide to have a female nurse perform the exam but request Taehyung to be present by your side for comfort.

“I’d appreciate having you there,” you say, appreciating the calm and caring energy he exudes. Taehyung nods warmly, assuring you that he’ll be right there to support you through the process.

The hospital room takes on a sense of tranquility as you put your trust in Taehyung, knowing that you’re in capable hands.

As Taehyung explains the process of the examination, you feel anxiety wash over you. The police involvement is a daunting prospect, but you're grateful that Jimin is part of it.

When the door opens, and Jimin steps in, a sense of comfort washes over you, his familiar presence easing your tension.

“—You Taehyung?” Jimin asks, panting, concern evident in his expression as he approaches your bed. Taehyung stands in front of Jimin, almost like a shield, protective of you.

“Yes” Taehyung responds firmly.

“Who are you?” he asks, sizing Jimin up with a discerning look.

“I’m a friend of Y/N. Detective Park Jimin” he replies, his eyes searching your face and body for any signs of discomfort.

“Oh.” Taehyung mutters, stepping aise to give Jimin space by your side. You try to sound tough, assuring Jimin that you’re fine, but he sees through the facade.

“You’re in no shape or form fine, and it’s okay to acknowledge that,” Jimin says, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you, his supporting gesture speaking volumes.

When you ask if Jimin can be present during the examination, Taehyung hesitates for a moment before agreeing, on the condition that he sees Jimin’s identification. You feel relieved when Jimin shows his badge, securing his place by your side.

“I don’t have to be here if you’re uncomfortable with it, Y/N” Jimin says gently, squeezing your hand reassuringly and you feel your cheeks blush.

“I would prefer you. I don’t want somebody from the police that I don’t know” you reply, squeezing his hand back, the trust and affection between you two evident.

“Okay then. I’ll just get a female nurse to come and do the vaginal exam now” Taehyung says, leaving the room with a mix of sadness and determination in his eyes.

The weight of the situation settles in, but with Jimin by your side, you feel stronger and more ready to face what comes next.

The vaginal examination has been anything but pleasant, but you’re grateful that Jimin stayed by your side the whole time, providing a sense of security amidst the discomfort.

After the female nurse and Taehyung leave the room, you find yourself alone with Jimin again.

His presence is both comforting and unsettling, and you can sense the burden of unspoken questions between you. Jimin’s eyebrows keep furrowing as he paces the room, a clear sign of the many inquiries swirling in his mind.

You can tell he wants to ask you so many things, but he’s also aware of the sensitivity of the situation.

He starts to speak a few times but falls silent just as quickly, understanding that this may not be the right moment. Time seems to stretch on, with each passing moment carrying the weight of unspoken words.

The room is filled with an atmosphere of both comfort and tension, the air charged with emotions that neither of you knows quite how to express.

You feel the urge to break the silence, to tell Jimin everything that has happened, but the words catch in your throat.

It’s hard to put into words the trauma you’ve experienced, the pain you’ve endured. It was easier to tell the paramedics and Taehyung, because they aren’t as close to you.

There’s a fear that sharing the details might make it all too real, and might make Jimin think less of you.

Yet, in the midst of the silence, you find a sense of solace in Jimin’s presence. There’s an unspoken understanding between you, a deep connection that doesn’t require words. You know he’s there for you, ready to listen and support you whenever you’re ready to share.

As Jimin continues to pace, you catch his eye and manage a small, appreciative smile. It’s a signal that you’re not quite ready to talk yet, but you’re thankful for his presence. The gesture seems to ease some of the tension in the room, and Jimin’s features soften.

For now, you both find comfort in the silence, knowing that when the time is right, you’ll have each other to lean on. In this moment of vulnerability and uncertainty, the unspoken words between you carry more weight than any spoken ones ever could.

The silence in the room is broken by the entrance of Taehyung, a warm smile on his face. Despite the gentle expression the news he brings sends a shiver down your spine.

“Hey Y/N,” he begins, “I just wanted to let you know that we have called your parents, and they are on their way”.

You freeze at the mention of your parents.

Jimin looks at you, sensing your sudden unease.

Taehyung, on the other hand, seems momentarily puzzled by the tension in the room before it dawns on him.

“Shit. You didn't want them to know…” he trails off, his eyes dropping to the floor with a sense of defeat.

In a small and timid voice, you ask, “What did you tell them?”.

Taehyungs’s reply is gentle but regretful, “Only that you are in the hospital, nothing else”. He offers an apology, acknowledging that calling the emergency contact is standard procedure. You can see the sincerity in his eyes as he feels remorse for causing you further distress.

The conflicting emotions inside you are overwhelming.

Part of you wants your parents’ support and comfort during this difficult time, but another part dreads their reaction, fearing their judgment and disappointment.

You glance at Jimin, hoping to find relief in his presence. Jimin, sensing your distress, reaches out to hold your hand, offering silent support. Taehyung seems to understand the complexity of the situation and takes a step back, giving you both some space.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you finally manage to say, appreciating his concern and understanding, “I just… I’m not sure how they will react.”

Taehyung nods, his expression sympathetic, “I understand. I’m sorry for any added stress this may have caused you. If you want, I can talk to them on your behalf, explain the situation.”

You consider his offer, grateful for his willingness to help. “Let me think about it” you reply, feeling torn but also relieved that Taehyung is willing to be a buffer between you and your parents.

As Taehyung leaves the room, you turn to Jimin, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I’m scared, Jimin. I don’t know how they’ll react, and I don’t want to burden them with all of this.”

Jimin’s eyes soften with understanding.

“We’ll face it together, Y/N,” he assures you.

“Whatever happens, I’m here for you, and we’ll navigate through this together”. In that moment, you realize the true depth of Jimin’s care and support.

The room falls into silence, and you find solace under the duvet, hiding your body away from the world. Jimin takes a seat beside your bed, the concern evident in his eyes.

“I know you don’t want to tell your parents everything that happened,” he begins gently, searching for a way to support you without pushing too much.

“But maybe you could just… not tell them all of it” he offers, his voice soft with compassion.

You’re taken aback by his suggestion.

How could he know what you’re going through?

You hadn’t even had the guts to confide in him yet. “Did the paramedics tell you what happened to me?” you ask timidly, avoiding his gaze as you fidget with the duvet and your fingers.

Jimin’s heart breaks at the vulnerability in your voice.

He nods, his eyes filled with sorrow.

“I’ve been friends with Hoseok for some time, so I asked him to tell me,” he admits, squeezing your hand gently.

“He didn’t want to. I’m sorry, I know I should have asked you instead.”

You finally meet his gaze, seeing the pain and empathy in his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly. “I understand why you wanted to know, and I appreciate your concern.”

Talking about what happened is difficult for you, and you appreciate Jimin’s effort to understand without pushing you to share more than you’re comfortable with for now.

“I don’t know if I can tell my parents everything,” you admit, the burden of the trauma pressing down on your shoulders. Jimin doesn’t push; he simply listens and holds your hand, a silent source of comfort.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he assures you.

“Take your time. Whatever you choose to share, I’ll support you, and so will your parents” you nod, feeling a sense of relief wash over you knowing that Jimin will be there for you, no matter what.

“Thank you” you whisper, feeling grateful for his unwavering support and understanding.

The room fills with a quiet understanding, the unspoken bond between you and Jimin providing comfort and reassurance. As you face the difficult road ahead, you find strength in knowing you’re not alone, and that you have someone who cares deeply for you by your side.

“So you’re suggesting that I only tell them that I was abducted and nothing more?” you ponder out loud, turning to Jimin for guidance.

He nods his head in understanding, his expression gentle and reassuring. The burden of the decision feels heavy on your shoulders, torn between protecting your parents and seeking solace in their support.

A sudden knock at the door statles you, causing your head to whip around in panic.

The dreadful feeling in your body intensities, fearing that it might be your parents. Thankfully, it's Detective Yoongi who enters, peeking his head in. You remember him from earlier, and his presence makes your heart race.

“Hello, Y/N, how are you doing?” he greets you, a mix of professionalism and concern in his voice. Jimin acknowledges him with a nod as the detective approaches the other side of your bed.

“Ehm, okay, all things considered, I think” you reply, trying to steady your breath because you know exactly why he is here and where this conversation is heading.

Detective Yoongi’s gaze softens, and you can sense his desire to help and understand.

“I’ve spoken with Hoseok, and I know it’s been a difficult time for you. We’re here to support you, Y/N. Can you tell us anything about the person who abducted you? Any details you remember?”

Yoongi looks at you and then glances at Jimin, seeking his approval. Jimin meets your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort, when finding none, he nods and gives your hand a soft squeeze, providing reassurance.

Jimin’s grip on your hand tightens, his protective instincts kicking in.

“She’s been through a lot, Hyung.”

Detective Yoongi nods in understanding, recognizing the delicate situation. “Of course. Take all the time you need, Y/N” he says, conveying his support and patience.

You take a deep breath and begin recounting the night five years ago, the events that led to your abduction, and the aftermath.

As you mention Jimin’s presence there that night, you see his reaction, the anguish and pain etched across his face. You feel a pang of sadness witnessing his emotional turmoil in response to your words.

The Detective listens attentively, his professional demeanor mixed with compassion, creating a safe space for you to share your story.

With every word you speak, the burden of the past bears down on you, and the memories threaten to consume you. Jimin’s unwavering presence beside you offers some comfort, a salvation in the storm of emotions.

It had gone late, and everybody was going home, some of your friends talked about taking a taxi, but you had declined, saying it was only a short walk home for you.

The streets were eerily quiet, lit only by the dim glow of streetlights. The chilling wind sent shivers down your spine, and a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach as you walked down the familiar path to the forest.

If only you had chosen to take the taxi, like Jimin had suggested, none of this would have happened, you think now, replaying the nightmarish events in your mind.

As you walked home, you heard the unmistakable sound of a car approaching from the side. At first, you brushed it off, but then a window rolled down, and a man’s voice called out to you, offering a ride.

You declined, trying to keep calm.

But he persisted, his words becoming more sinister with each attempt to lure you in.

Your heart pounded in your chest as the car suddenly accelerated, blocking your path.

Panic surged through your veins, and you froze in your tracks, fear paralyzing your body.

Before you could react the driver lunged at you, grabbing you from behind.

You fought with every ounce of strength, but his grip was unyielding. Your desperate attempts to break free only fueled his aggression. A harsh chemical smell filled your nostrils as he forced a cloth over your mouth.

The world around you blurred, and darkness enveloped your senses. Your mind became hazy, and you lost track of time, lost track of yourself.

As you recount the horrifying memory, tears stream down your cheeks like a heavy downpour, mingling with the raw emotions that have been suppressed for so long.

The weight of the experience bears down on you, and you can’t help but feel the burden of self-blame for not making a different choice that night.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Jimin’s voice breaks the suffocating silence, his touch a comforting anchor.

“You are safe now. I’m here, and I won’t let anyone hurt you again” he intertwined his fingers with one of your hands, as he hugged you tightly with the other.

The action sends a weird tingle down your spine.

The memories are a torment, and you struggle to find the words as you recount the horrors you endured. Your voice quivers, and you take a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. It feels like the past is clawing its way back into your present, engulfing you in darkness.

“I woke up in this unfamiliar room,” you begin, your body trembling with the weight of the memories. “There was a bed and a change of clothes, but nothing felt right. I knew something was terribly wrong” your eyes meet Jimin’s, seeking solace and strength.

As you continue, your voice becomes softer, as if you’re afraid to give voice to the nightmares that haunt you.

“He forced himself on me, even as I screamed, cried, and begged him to stop. ‘No’ meant nothing to him” you utter, the pain evident in your voice.

Tears glisten in Jimin’s eyes as he sobs softly, his heart aching for the pain you endured.

He feels terrible and the only way he knows how to alleviate some of the pain, is to hug you tightly.

“I’m so sorry” he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion, “I wish I could have done more, found you sooner.”

“You did your best, Jimin,” you assure him, leaning against his shoulder. “You were the light in that darkness, the reason I held on. It’s not your fault” you stroke his back gently.

“Did you ever try to escape?” Yoongi’s question hangs heavy in the air, and you feel your heart tighten with dread. Memories of the countless attempts to break free flood your mind, each ending in devastating consequences.

“Yes,” you reply, the weight of your past pushing you closer to breaking point. “But every attempt only led to more pain. He beat me until I couldn’t move, leaving me bruised and broken.”

You take comfort in Jimin’s embrace, seeking support as you bare your soul, “I thought I could escape, find a way out of that nightmare. But hope faded, and I felt trapped. There was no way out.”

The ever calm Detective leaned forward, his eyes focused intently on you, “Tell me everything you can remember about the surroundings. Even the tiniest details could be crucial in finding this man” he implored, trying to elicit any information that might lead them to the perpetrator.

You close your eyes, trying to recall the blurred images from your escape.

“I remember it was a rundown neighborhood. Lots of abandoned buildings, overgrown with weeds,” you begin, your voice wavering as the memories resurface.

“The streets were dimly lit, and there was this eerie silence that made me feel terrified.”

Jimin’s hand tightens around your arm, offering silent support as you continue. “I ran through narrow alleyways, twisting and turning, trying to put as much distance between me and that place. But everything felt the same, like a never-ending maze.” You sigh deeply, frustration lacing your features.

The Detective’s brows furrow with concern as he takes notes, piecing together the fragmented information. “Did you notice any landmarks or signs?” he asks, hoping for a breakthrough.

You shake your head, feeling helpless and frustrated with your inability to provide more details. “I… I don’t know,” you stammer, your voice laced with disappointment.

“I was so focused on escaping, I didn’t really pay attention to anything else” you pout defeatedly.

Yoongi’s expression softens, understanding the immense trauma you endured.

“It’s okay,” he reassures gently.

“You did what you had to do to survive. We’ll do everything in our power to find this man and bring him to justice” he states assuredly with conviction.

You appreciate his comforting words, but the fear lingers in the back of your mind.

What if they can’t find him? What if he comes after you again?

Jimin interjects, his voice firm with determination, “We won’t rest until we catch him, Y/N. You’re safe now, and we’ll make sure it stays that way.”

Yoongi nods, sharing the same determination. “We’ll keep investigating and following every lead,” he says, his gaze unwavering.

“Have you ever seen his face?” as the Detective inquires further, memories flood back, and you nod slowly, acknowledging that you had seen his face.

The room grows tense as both detectives exchange meaningful glances, sensing the gravity of the situation.

“Would you be able to describe him to a sketch artist?” Yoongi asks, his voice steady but his eyes filled with concern.

You take a deep breath, mustering the courage to relive those horrifying moments.

“I can try,” you reply, feeling the weight of the task ahead.

Despite the fear that grips you, you know that providing any information could be crucial to catching the man who tormented you. Detective Yoongi then asks about the perpetrator’s name, and you recount how he demanded to be called ‘Hyun’.

The room falls silent for a moment, filled with a heavy tension as you recall the haunting memories.

Exhaustion settles in, and you yearn for a moment of respite to process the traumatic events you’ve just relieved.

However, your desire for peace is interrupted when there’s a knock at the door. As it slowly opens, your parents enter the room, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

Tears well up in your eyes as you see your parents, and you reach for them, seeking comfort in their embrace.

You feel a mixture of emotions; relief to see their familiar faces, but also anxiety about possibly explaining what had happened. As your parents approach you, their eyes filled with love and concern, your heart swells with mixed emotions.

It has been so long since you last saw them, and their presence brings comfort and a sense of home. However, the burden of the truth you carry prevents you from fully embracing their warmth.

You don’t want to burden them with the horrific details of your ordeal, afraid that it will shatter their perception of you.

Your parents greet Jimin with warmth and confusion directed towards the other man in the room. Detective Yoongi introduces himself and explains that he’s here to help with the investigation.

“He’s the detective in charge of my abduction case,” you explain, watching their expression shift from curiosity to shock and then concern.

They eye him cautiously at first, but the firm handshake seems to ease their worries a bit. Jimin stands up, feeling a pang of guilt for not being able to protect you, even though he knows it was not his fault.

Your parents look at Jimin, grateful for his presence. Jimin gestures for your dad to take the chair, and your heart swells with gratitude for your best friend’s support. With a soft smile, your father sits down beside you, and you appreciate the familiar comfort of his presence.

Jimin steps back, giving you and your parents some space, but you can see the concern still etched on his face.

Detective Yoongi, now realizing the delicate dynamics, reassures your parents that they are doing everything they can to find the perpetrator and bring him to justice. He explains that your statement is crucial in the investigation and that they’ll do their best to support you throughout the process. He hums in approval and leaves the room.

Amidst the lingering tension, your parents turn their focus back to you, showering you with affection and love. They express how much they have missed you and how glad they are to have you back home.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” your father asks, his voice filled with love and worry. You nod, attempting to mask the pain and trauma that still lingers within you.

You don’t want them to see the broken parts of you, fearing it will break their hearts too. Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the weight of their love, and you wish you could tell them everything, but you can’t bring yourself to share the horrors you’ve endured.

You squeeze their hands gently, offering a grateful smile.

“I missed you both so much too” you say, your voice quivering with emotions.

As your parents speak, telling you that you can have your old room back at home, a mix of emotions floor your heart. Relief, fear, and uncertainty clash within you.

You had imagined returning to your apartment, your sanctuary, after being rescued, but reality dawns on you like a heavy cloud. Your apartment is gone, leased to someone else while you were missing, and the truth hits you hard.

Your wide eyes betray your uneasiness, and your mother picks up on it immediately.

Her comforting presence beside you offers a glimmer of reassurance, but your mind is still racing. She begins to explain the situation, how your absence resulted in losing the apartment.

You can’t help but feel a pang of sadness and nostalgia for the place you once called home.

“I understand, mom” you say, trying to put on a brave face, but the disappointment lingers. Deep down, you had hoped to return to your apartment, to reclaim a piece of your past. Yet, it seems that life has moved on without you, and the reality of it stings.

Your dad’s explanation about them not paying the rent during your absence makes logical sense, but it adds to the weight on your shoulders. You don’t want to burden them further, and you know they have their own lives and financial responsibilities to take care of.

The conflicting emotions within you intensity. On one hand, you appreciate your parents’ offer and their unconditional love, but on the other, you crave a sense of comfort, independence and the familiarity of your own space.

You long to heal and rebuild your life on your terms, without feeling smothered.

Taking a deep breath, you gather the courage to express your feelings.

“I appreciate it, mom, Dad. I really do,” you start, your voice wavering slightly.

“But I think I need some time to find my own footing again. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, but… I need some space to heal and find myself again”.

Your parents exchange a glance, a mixture of understanding and concern evident in their eyes. They love you deeply, and they want what’s best for you. After a moment of silence, your mother speaks softly, “We understand, sweetheart. We’ll support whatever decision you make. Just know that we’re here for you, no matter what”.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you feel the weight of their love and understanding.

In that moment, you realize that while you may not have your old apartment, you have something more precious - a family that will stand by you through thick and thin.

As your parents express their concern and worry about your safety by staying by yourself, you try to reason with them, emphasizing your independence and adulthood, you’re almost twentynine years old!

However, your mom’s heartfelt response tugs at your heartstrings, making you realize just how much they care about you. “I know you want me close and safe, and I appreciate that more than you can imagine,” you say, trying to convey your love and gratitude.

“But I also need to find my own way and regain some semblance of normalcy.”

You explain as Jimin interjects, “She can stay at my place.”

You whip your head to look at Jimin, feeling tears fill your eyes at his caring offer.

The tension in the room escalates as your parents ponder Jimin’s offer. They are cautious about trusting someone else with your safety, especially considering the circumstances of your disappearance.

However, Jimin steps in, ready to prove his dedication and reliability.

“I understand your concerns, and I promise, I will do everything in my power to protect her,” Jimin says firmly, looking straight into your parents’ eyes.

“I blame myself for what happened, for not making sure she got home safely that night, and I will not let it happen again. She will be safe with me” he assures them with a stern yet comforting look.

His sincerity and determination leave a lasting impression on your parents. You can see their hesitancy gradually giving way to trust. Jimin’s gesture of holding their hands and expressing remorse further strengthens their belief in him.

“I will never be able to forgive myself if something happens to her again,” Jimin adds, his voice laced with regret. “I promise you, I will be her guardian and protector.”

Your parents eventually agree to the arrangement, recognizing that Jimin’s dedication to your safety outweighs their concerns.

They also think that Jimin will be able to keep you safer, with him being a cop now. They thank him for his commitment, and you can see a sense of relief wash over them.

Your mom still wants to make sure that you are completely comfortable with the situation, and asks if you are fine staying at Jimin’s place.

“I promise you, I’m okay staying at Jimin’s,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been there for me since I got back, and I trust him completely”.

Your mother’s worried expression softens as she looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort. “Are you sure, sweetheart? We just want what’s best for you”.

You nod, giving her a small smile, “I know, mom. I know both of you worry about me, and I appreciate that. But being at Jimin’s feels… comforting. It’s like I have a sense of security there,” you give a small smile.

Deep down you know you won’t feel safe or comfortable with your own place like you initially thought, but this was a good compromise.

Your father places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “If you ever feel uncomfortable or unsafe, don’t hesitate to call us, okay?” we’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“I will, dad” you promise, feeling grateful for their understanding.

“But please know that I need some time to myself too. I want to try and rebuild my life, and I think being at Jimin’s will help me with that, until I feel comfortable eventually getting my own place,” both your parents nod, accepting your decision while still trying to protect you.

They express their love once again, and you can see the worry lingering in their eyes as they bid you goodbye.

As they leave, you let out a sigh, feeling a mix of emotions settling in. Jimin returns to your side, looking concerned as he takes the seat beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and you blush at the touch.

“I will be,” you reply honestly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“It’s just… it must be hard for them, you know? To see me like this.”

Jimin wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. “They love you, Y/N. And they’ll do whatever they can to protect you. It’s natural for them to worry.”

You nod, feeling comforted by his presence. “I know. But I also need to figure things out on my own. I need to feel like myself again.”

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Jimin says firmly. “I’m here for you, every step of the way. We’ll face this together.”

You look up at him, finding solace in his unwavering support. “Thank you, Jiminie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiles softly at his nickname, his eyes filled with warmth and love, “You’ll never have to find out. I’ll always be here for you.”

With Jimin by your side, you know you have someone who truly understands and cares for you.

As you prepare to leave the hospital, haven met with the sketch artist too, the weight of what lies ahead settles on your shoulders. You’ve endured so much, and now the road to recovery stretches out before you like an uncertain path.

Jimin stands beside you, his presence a constant source of strength, but you can’t help but feel the apprehension growing inside you.

Taehyung approaches you with a sympathetic smile.

“Y/N, I’ve arranged a few appointments with a psychologist for you,” he says gently, handing you a small card. “She specializes in sexual trauma and can help you work through everything you’ve been through.”

You take the card, trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to spill over.

“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say softly. Feeling your heart warm at his kindness, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

Taehyung nods, his eyes filled with empathy, “Just take it one step at a time,” he advises. “Healing isn’t easy, but you’re not alone in this journey” he assures you and bids you goodbye with a soft smile and wave of his hand.

You know he’s right, but the fear of facing your trauma head-on still lingers. The thought of reliving those harrowing moments again fills you with dread. Jimin senses your unease and pulls you into a comforting embrace.

“You don’t have to do this alone” he whispers, his voice soothing.

You find comfort in his words, knowing that he’ll be there every step of the way. As you leave the hospital, you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you; relief to be out of that place, anxiety about the therapy sessions, and gratitude for the support you have gotten so far.

As you step into Jimin’s home, a mixture of relief and vulnerability washes over you. The walls seem warmer, the air more comforting, and the thought of having Jimin nearby offers a sense of security you haven’t felt in a long time.

You can’t help but feel grateful for his unwavering support.

Jimin leads you to the guest bedroom, its inviting decor and cozy atmosphere offering a stark contrast to the horrors you’ve endured. The room feels like a sanctuary, a place where you can begin to heal. You thank him softly, words barely escaping your lips as you try to convey the depth of your gratitude.

“I want you to feel at home here,” Jimin says with a tender smile.

“Take all the time you need, and remember, I’m right across the hall if you need anything, okay?”

His reassurance soothes the residual anxiety that clings to you like a shadow. You nod, a sense of trust growing between you and Jimin, knowing that he’ll always be here to catch you when you stumble.

“I’ve taken a few days off work to help you settle in. I hope that’s okay” he explains as you follow him into the hallway.

“That’s very sweet of you Jimin” you feel a blush creep up on your face, as your heart feels full of love with his kind actions.

As Jimin gives you the rest of the tour of his home, you can’t help but marvel at the simple yet elegant design that surrounds you.

Each room holds its unique charm, and you find yourself drawn to the minimalistic aesthetic that exudes a sense of tranquility.

The bathrooms feel like a serene oasis, adorned with white and blue tiles that create a soothing ambiance. You imagine yourself soaking in the bathtub, letting the worries of the day dissolve in the warm water.

The guest rooms, tough simple, offer a cozy retreat.

His home office is a testament to his dedication and hard work, with a touch of understated elegance in the dark gray hues that enhance the room. It’s a place where he has likely spent countless hours diligently pursuing his career as a police officer and now detective.

Moving into the heart of the house, the open floor plan of the kitchen, living, and dining room leaves you in awe.

The kitchen, with its white and wooden accents, feels like the heart of the home, a place where love and warmth fill the air. The wooden tabletop and thick black metal legs of the dining table strike a perfect balance between rustic and modern, inviting you to gather around for shared meals and laughter.

The living room, with its magnificent dark green couch, beckons you to sink into its comforting embrace. As you envision spending cozy nights here, watching movies or simply enjoying each other’s company, you feel a sense of belonging settling in your heart.

Throughout the tour, Jimin’s excitement and pride in his home are palpable.

It’s evident that he has put love and care into every corner, turning his house into a home - a place of comfort and refuge, not just for himself, but for those he cares about.

As you continue to explore the rooms, you can’t help but appreciate the changes he’s made since the last time you visited. It’s a reflection of how he’s grown, just as you have, over the years.

“This place is beautiful, Jimin,” you finally say, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “I can see how much effort and love you’ve put into making it your own.”

A soft smile graces his lips and he looks around the familiar space with newfound pride. “Thank you, Y/N” he replies. “I’m glad you like it. And I hope you’ll feel at home here too.”

You nod, feeling the burden of your past gradually lifting as you step into this new chapter of your life. This house, with its comforting embrace and the man standing beside you, promises a future filled with hope, love, and healing.

“Did you renovate it? I don’t remember it looking like this when we were kids” you inquire, genuinely curious about the transformation.

“Yeah, I did it myself,” Jimin replies with a proud smile, his hands finding refuge in his pockets.

“It’s really stunning! I also liked how your parents kept it before. But this looks so modern,” you point out, acknowledging the aesthetic choices he’s made.

As you stand in the kitchen, you can’t help but notice the emotions flickering in his eyes when you mention his parents. Sensing there’s a deeper story behind the changes, you ask, “How come your parents don’t live here anymore?”.

His eyes hold a mixture of nostalgia and pain as he reveals, “My dad died of cancer three years ago. My mom couldn’t keep up with the big house, so I bought it from her, and she lives in a small apartment in the city insead.”

You feel a pang of sorrow for him and his family, realizing the significance of this home in their lives and the changes they’ve had to endure.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you say, offering genuine condolences.

“How were you supposed to know?” Jimin chuckles softly, his laughter carrying a hint of vulnerability. “It’s okay, really. You couldn’t have known.”

His ability to lighten the mood in such a sensitive moment surprises you, but it also speaks volumes about his resilience. Jimin seems to create an atmosphere of ease around topics that could be emotionally overwhelming, and you can’t help but appreciate his ability to find comfort even in the face of loss.

The rest of the day rushes by in a blur of conversation and laughter, leaving you with little time to process the burden of your emotions or even the movies you watched together on Jimin’s TV. The comfort of his company and the safe haven of his home envelop you like a warm embrace.

As the hours pass, you find yourself relaxing in Jimin’s presence, your guard slowly lowering.

When a low rumbling sound fills the living room, you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Are you hungry, Y/N?” Jimin asks, amused by the hungry protests of your stomach.

He tries to suppress his grin with his hands, but the laughter bubbling from him is unmistakable. Cursing your traitorous stomach internally, you can’t help but nod in defeat. It seems your body is making its desires known without your consent.

Jimin assures you that he has some leftover lasagna, and your mouth waters at the thought. As he brings the steaming dish to the table, the savory aroma fills the room, making your stomach growl even louder in anticipation.

Taking your first bite, you’re pleasantly surprised at how delicious it tastes, and a satisfied ‘mmmmh’ escapes your lips.

Jimin cuckles in response, his eyes twinkling with joy at your enjoyment. You can see the genuine happiness in his face as he watches you savor the meal.

“I take it you like it. I’m glad,” he says with a hint of pride, his own plate half-empty as he eats alongside you.

You nod enthusiastically, your mouth full, and give him a thumbs-up to emphasize your approval. As you continue eating, the conversation flows effortlessly, and the laughter comes easily.

Jimin’s ability to make you feel at ease and comforted shines through, and you find yourself opening up more than you ever thought possible. As the evening wears on, you realize that time has flown by, and you can’t help but wonder how you could feel so comfortable and at home with someone you’ve been apart from for so long.

But in Jimin’s presence, it feels like you’re rediscovering a piece of yourself that you thought was lost forever.

As the night deepens, it becomes apparent that sleep is elusive, no matter how much you try to coax it.

An odd sense of anxiety grips you tightly, and you find yourself restless and uneasy.

You can’t quite understand the reason behind these sudden jitters, especially since you’ve slept over at Jimin’s place countless times in your younger days, but together is different; the weight of your past trauma seems to be pressing heavily on your mind.

Jimin, ever the perceptive friend, picks up on your unease.

He offers a comforting reassurance, assuring you that you can always knock on his door if you need anything. His touch on your hand feels like a lifeline in the sea of uncertainty, offering a sense of calm amidst the turmoil of emotions.

With a grateful smile, you bid him goodnight and retreat to your designated room.

But once you’re alone, your mind becomes a battleground of thoughts and emotions. The reality of what has happened to you, the journey of healing that lies ahead, and the uncertainty of the future all bombard your consciousness like a relentless freight train.

You sit on the edge of the bed, you mind spinning with questions and fears.

How will you find the strength to heal? Will you ever be able to overcome the haunting memories? Can you ever trust again after such a traumatic experience?

The silence of the night only amplifies the cacophony in your head. The ceiling above you becomes a canvas for your restless mind, and you find yourself staring blankly, unable to shut off the overwhelming thoughts.

Every creak and rustle in the house feels magnified, and your heart races with each little noise. Despite Jimin’s presence just across the hall, the fear of facing the darkness alone feels suffocating.

You try to remind yourself that he’s there for you, but your mind is stubborn, refusing to relinquish its grip on the fear that has taken root in your heart.

Hours pass, but sleep remains elusive.

The minutes stretch into eternity, and you’re left feeling like a prisoner of your own mind.

The night feels like a never-ending struggle between the desire for rest and the fear of letting your guard down.

The morning sun filters through the window, casting a warm glow over everything in the room.

The pleasant aroma of pancakes fills the air, offering a momentary distraction from the weariness that clings to your body. But no matter how hard you try to revive yourself, the undereye bags and puffy eyes persist, bearing witness to the restless night that robbed you of much-needed sleep.

You walk into the kitchen where Jimin’s cheerful voice breaks through the haze of exhaustion, greeting you with a bright smile as he expertly flips pancakes on the stove.

“Good morning, Y/N, did you sleep well?” he asks, his voice a melody of kindness and warmth. Despite his cheerfulness, his eyes widen in concern as they meet your tired gaze.

He instinctively knows something is amiss.

You can’t help but sigh in response, slumping onto one of the wooden bar stools. Your body feels heavy, burdened by the weight of a night spent wrestling with haunting memories.

“Not really,” you admit, your voice tinged with fatigue and vulnerability.

Jimin’s eyes soften with sympathy, and he gently scolds you for not reaching out for company when sleep eluded you.

“My brain just wouldn’t shut off,” you confess, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice.

“I kept thinking about the past and all the stuff that I missed… about my future too,” you bury your face in your hands, seeking solace from the exhaustion that permeates your body.

In this vulnerable moment, you find comfort in Jimin’s presence. It’s as if his caring demeanor and genuine concern create a sanctuary for your weary soul. He doesn’t push you to talk about the details of your thoughts; instead, he simply stands beside you, a steady pillar of support.

As the pancakes sizzle on the griddle, the aroma fills the air, intertwining with the tender atmosphere between you and Jimin. The morning light casts a gentle glow, and for a moment, you feel a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm inside you.

Jimin places a plate of warm pancakes in front of you, garnished with chocolate and jam. He offers this simple gesture as a balm for your tired spirit.

“Here, have some breakfast. It’ll give you some energy” he says, his voice tender.

In that moment, you realize that this is more than just a shared meal. It’s an act of love and care, a way for Jimin to nourish not only your body but your soul too. And as you take a bite of the pancakes, you can’t help the blush that creeps on your face and feel grateful for having someone like him in your life - the kind of friend who stays by your side, offering comfort and understanding.

“It smells really good and looks so yummy, Jimin,” you remark with a genuine smile, appreciating not only the food but also the effort he’s put into making you feel at ease.

Jimin’s own smile widens, pleased to see you enjoying the meal he prepared. He joins in, savoring the taste of the pancakes alongside you. The moment is filled with a sense of calm, a temporary respite from the tumultuous thoughts that have been plaguing you.

But even in this tranquil moment, Jimin’s concern for your well-being doesn’t waver.

He clears his throat gently, drawing your attention.

“Maybe you should make an appointment with the psychologist, like that nurse Taehyung suggested,” he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

The sincerity in his words touches your heart. You can see the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his care for you. His genuine concern is both comforting and overwhelming, reminding you that you don’t have to face your pain alone.

With a small chuckle, Jimin adds, “Of course, you can talk to me too. I wouldn’t mind lending you my ear.”

It's an offer that comes from the heart, a promise to be there for you in any way you need. You feel a sense of gratitude wash over you, grateful to have Jimin in your life.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” you reply, recognizing the wisdom in his suggestion.

“And thank you so much, Jimin. It means a lot to me, all that you’re doing to help me,” a lot more than you would ever know, you almost want to add.

Later that day, as the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue through the windows of Jimin’s living room, as you stood there with Jimin, you found yourself facing an entirely different challenge: self-defense.

Jimin stressed the value in being able to defend yourself, should you ever need it (especially with your perpetrator still at large).

It is a practical and necessary step, given the circumstances. Jimin’s concern for your safety is evident. And you appreciate his determination to empower you. The seriousness of the situation loomed over you, but Jimin’s presence was a reassuring anchor.

“Alright, pay close attention,” Jimin says, his voice steady and encouraging. His arms gently wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against his solid frame. Feeling his heartbeat against your back brings a sense of flutters and comfort as you listen intently to his instructions and you already feel your breath quicken.

“First, if someone tries to choke you from behind, you need to act quickly,” he explains.

“Use your elbows to strike their ribs or stomach. It forces them to loosen their grip.”

As he demonstrates the movement, his arm guides your own, helping you to mimic the motion. His warm touch feels electrifying, and you feel heat rise in your cheeks. Your elbow hits his arms, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he adjusts the pressure.

“Good job” he praises you, a smile evident in his voice. Jimin’s encouraging words spurs you on, and you feel your confidence growing with each practiced movement.

“Remember,” he says, his tone becoming more serious, “Don’t hesitate to use your elbow, knees, and even your fists if necessary. Your safety comes first.”

He demonstrates the proper stance, weight distribution, and how to strike effectively without injuring yourself. As he continues to teach you, you find yourself amazed at his patience and skill.

He moves with fluidity, demonstrating each technique with precision. It must be his dancing major, that gives him so much grace. You are entranced by his elegance and register your heartbeat quicken and your breath shorten.

While the situation was serious, his lighthearted spirit shone through as he let you practice some kicks on him.

“Nice kick!” he grinned, clearly impressed by your progress.

“But keep your balance steady. You don’t want to lose it and give your attacker an advantage.”

With Jimin’s guidance, you practice each move diligently. It was physically demanding, and hard to keep your mind off his strong muscles, but his presence and encouragement made the experience far more manageable.

He patiently corrects your posture and movements, helping you understand the importance of control and awareness.

As the session is nearing its end, Jimin demonstrates one final move.

“And if you ever find yourself cornered,” he said, “A quick powerful kick to the groin can create the opening you need to escape.”

With a nod you chuckle nervously, and take a step back and mimic the movement from earlier, visualizing the scenario in your mind.

“Trust me,” he says, meeting your eyes with a serious expression, “It’s a highly effective move.”

Jimin’s eyes twinkle with pride as you execute the move with determination.

“You’re doing great, Y/N,” he says, his voice gentle yet resolute. “Learning self-defense is about feeling empowered and in control. It’s not about being invincible, but knowing you have options.”

As you walk into the living room, a sense of excitement fills you.

“I’ve made an appointment with the psychologist, and she actually had a spot for me tomorrow morning because someone canceled theirs,” you share with a bright and hopeful tone, eager to let Jimin know about the progress you’ve made.

Jimin’s attention shifts from the movie he’s watching, and he turns to face you, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness for you.

“That’s nice, Y/N,” he responds with a warm smile. But it doesn’t end there; he takes it a step further, showing his unwavering support and care for you.

“I can drive you tomorrow and wait for you so you don’t have to go alone,” he offers, reaching out to envelop you in a comforting hug. His embrace feels like a safe haven, grounding you amidst uncertainties that lie ahead. He is warm and soft, making your heart flutter.

It’s a gesture that speaks volumes about his dedication as a friend, and you feel grateful for having him by your side during this journey of healing.

“Thank you, Jimin,” you murmur, your voice tinged with sincerity.

“Having you there with me means the world,” you hug him back, relishing in his embrace longer than friends probably should, but you can't help yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he gazes into your eyes, his own filled with compassion.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N,” he replies softly.

“I’ll always be here for you, no matter what”. In that moment, you know that his words are not just empty promises; they hold true weight and meaning. He’s proven time and again that he’ll go above and beyond to support and protect you, and his presence has become an anchor in your life.

As Jimin’s arms envelop you in another warm and comforting hug, your heart races with a mixture of emotions. The familiar touch of his hands against your back sends tingles down your spine, and you can’t help but yearn for more.

But as much as you cherish his affection, you know the depths of your feelings go beyond mere friendship. Throughout the years, you’ve hidden your unrequited love for Jimin, fearing that revealing it would jeopardize the precious bond you share.

You’ve watched from the sidelines as he laughed, smiled, and even dated others, all the while silently nursing your love for him. Now, being back in his embrace, your feelings resurface with a vengeance, and it’s becoming harder to suppress them.

Jimin’s genuine kindness and the way he selflessly cares for you only deepen the chasm in your heart. You find yourself yearning for more than just his friendship, craving a connection that goes beyond what you’ve ever shared.

But the fear of rejection and the potential loss of his friendship weigh heavily on you.

As his scent fills your senses, you can’t help but wonder if he could ever feel the same way about you.

The thought of confessing your feelings terrifies you, and you push it to the back of your mind, trying to focus on the present moment instead.

Yet, the trauma you’ve endured has left a mark on your soul, casting a shadow over your emotions. The assault and abuse have stirred up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, making it harder to decipher what is real and what is merely a product of your pain.

As you bury your face in his hair, you cling to the familiar comfort he provides, but you can’t help but feel the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

The tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, and you take deep breaths to regain control.

As the movie’s scenes play out on the screen, you find it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything but the warmth of Jimin’s body pressed against your own.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, and each breath feels shallow as his proximity sends a surge of electricity through you. It takes all your willpower to remain composed and not let your feelings betray you.

Jimin’s closeness is both a blessing and a curse.

On one hand, you relish the feeling of his body so close to yours, a sensation you’ve secretly yearned for.

On the other hand, it intensifies the turmoil of emotions within you, making it difficult to keep your composure.

As the movie’s plot unfolds, you find yourself stealing glances at Jimin’s profile, mesmerized by his features and the way the flickering light of the TV dances across his face.

You wish you could be brave enough to tell him how you feel, but the fear of rejection and the potential loss of his friendship paralyze you. Every fiber of your being longs to lean into him, to feel his arms wrap around you in a warm embrace.

Yet, you fight the urge, knowing that doing so would only deepen your emotional entanglement and make it even harder to keep your feelings hidden.

Despite the inner chaos, you manage to keep a facade of calm, smiling when appropriate and nodding along to the movie’s plot.

But inside, you’re a jumbled mess of emotions, and you can’t help but wonder if Jimin can sense your turmoil. As the movie comes to an end, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady your racing heart.

You’re grateful for the movie's conclusion, hoping that it will give you a moment to regain your composure. But even as the credits roll, Jimin doesn’t move away, and you find yourself torn between the desire to stay in his embrace and the need to escape the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

In the end, you opt to remain where you are, cherishing the closeness you share with Jimin and savoring the fleeting moments of intimacy. Though unspoke, the unrequited love you hold for him lingers in the air, creating an invisible bond between you two that goes beyond mere friendship.

The hours pass by in a blur, filled with laughter, heartfelt conversations, and a marathon of movies that bring moments of joy and escapism. You find solace in Jimin’s presence, his genuine care, and the comfort of being so close to someone you’ve admired secretly for years.

Yet, as the day draws to a close, a looming sense of emotional exhaustion settles over you like a heavy fog.

The impending therapy session hangs over your head like a dark cloud, filling you with both anxiety and hope. You know it’s necessary, that facing your trauma is a crucial step toward healing, but the thought of reliving those painful memories is daunting.

As the night deepens, you find yourself sitting on Jimin’s bed, lost in thoughts. The room is bathed in a soft glow, emanating from a small lamp on the nightstand. Jimin, ever observant, sits next to you, his warm presence a source of comfort.

“You don’t have to go through this alone, remember?” he says gently, his voice tender and caring.

You look into his eyes, seeing the genuine concern in them, and you feel your heart clench.

How much you long to pour your heart out to him, to share the burden of your emotions, and to finally reveal the depth of your feelings.

But fear holds you back, and you keep your emotions tightly guarded.

“I appreciate that, Jimin,” you reply, a hint of vulnerability seeping into your voice. “It’s just… I’m afraid of what might come up during the therapy session.”

Jimin reaches out, placing a comforting hand on yours, “I understand. Facing the past can be overwhelming, but remember, you are not alone in this. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

The tenderness in his touch and the reassurance in his words almost break the dam you’ve built around your emotions.

You want to lean into him, to finally confess your hidden affection and to seek true comfort in his embrace. Yet, the fear of jeopardizing your friendship keeps your heart in check.

As you lie in your own bed that night, sleep eludes you again.

Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and the weight of unspoken words feels almost unbearable.

You wonder if Jimin can sense the depth of your feelings, if he has any inkling of the unrequited love that resides within you.

The therapy session looms ahead, and you can’t help but feel both apprehensive and hopeful about the healing it may bring. You know it won’t be an easy journey, but having Jimin by your side, even as a friend, gives you the strength to face the painful memories that haunt you.

As you drift into a restless slumber, the turmoil within you persists, leaving you torn between the desire to hold onto your feelings and the fear of what might happen if you reveal them.

The morning air is crisp, and the first rays of sunlight gently kiss the edges of the sky as you step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and ready to face the day. Jimin’s consideration never fails to amaze you, and as you get dressed, you can’t help but think of all the little ways he has shown his kindness and care.

With the appointment with the psychologist looming ahead, you’re both nervous and eager to finally start the healing process. As you make your way to the kitchen, the aroma of freshly cooked breakfast fills the air, and your stomach growls in anticipation. His culinary skills are impressive, and you can’t help but appreciate his efforts to make your morning special.

He hands you a green smoothie, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles warmly.

“I know you need all the energy you can get today,” he says, his voice gently and encouraging. You take a sip, savoring the fresh and invigorating taste of veggies and fruits, while feeling a rush of gratitude for having someone like Jimin in your life.

Together, you sit at the dining table, and with every bite, you feel the warmth of his presence seep into your soul.

The connection between you and Jimin grows stronger with each shared meal and conversation, yet there’s still an unspoken understanding that hangs in the air.

As you finish breakfast, you exchange glances, and it’s as if the unspoken words are dancing on the edges of your lips. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how his kindness and friendship have been a lifeline in the darkest of times, but the fear of jeopardizing what you have holds you back.

You find yourself lost in his gaze, unable to look away, and it’s in that moment that you feel a flicker of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, the unspoken love between you is not one-sided.

Maybe Jimin’s tender gestures and caring ways are more than just friendly acts?

But before you can delve deeper into your thoughts, Jimin’s voice breaks the silence.

“Are you ready for today?” he asks softly, his eyes full of concern and support.

With a small nod, you find your voice, “I am, and I’m grateful you'll be there with me.”

His smile widens, and he reaches across the table to take your hand in his, the contact sending a warm shiver down your spine.

“I’ll always be there for you, no matter what,” he says, his words carrying a deeper meaning that you can’t ignore.

As you sit in the car, the silence between you and Jimin speaks volumes. It’s not the awkward silence you had anticipated; rather, it’s a comforting one. You find solace in the familiarity of Jimin’s presence, and his unspoken support eases some of the anxiety building up inside you.

As Jimin pulls up to the tall building, its glass facade reflecting the city’s hustle and bustle, you feel a mix of nerves and determination. Jimin follows you outside and you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before stepping inside.

As you grip the handle to the tall building, your heart races in your chest like a wild stallion.

The weight of unfamiliarity and the daunting prospect of sharing your innermost thoughts with a stranger collide, setting off an explosion of anxiety and nervousness within you.

You take a deep breath, knowing that this is a pivotal moment in your journey to heal and move forward.

This is uncharted territory for you, but you’re determined to brave this new experience.

The reception area is modern and welcoming, but your heart still races as you approach the front desk. The green plants add a touch of serenity, momentarily easing the tension coiled in your body.

The receptionist smiles warmly, and you check in using your new social security card, a symbol of your newfound strength and resilience.

Taking a seat, you try to steady your breath and silence the thunderous pounding in your ears.

Your palms feel sweaty, and you quickly wipe them on your things, hoping to dispel any signs of unease.

You remind yourself that it’s normal to feel nervous, but you won’t let it deter you from seeking the help you need.

Just as you’re about to give in to the overwhelming anxiety, you feel a gentle hand on your thigh. You turn to Jimin sitting beside you, his presence like a comforting anchor in the storm. He gives you a reassuring smile as he lightly squeezes your thigh, his eyes filled with support and understanding.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” he says softly, and you feel a wave of gratitude wash over you.

The fact that he’s willing to stay by your side, even in the face of your inner struggles, makes your heart swell with affection. As you sit together in the waiting area, you find solace in Jimin’s presence.

The unspoken bond between you grows stronger with each passing moment, and you feel a sense of reassurance that you’re not alone in this journey of healing.

Your heart skips a beat as you’re abruptly brought back to reality by a woman’s voice calling your name.

You quickly stand up, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through your veins. In your haste, you extend your hand to greet her, feeling a little self-conscious about the volume of your response, as you say ‘yes’.

Her warm and reassuring smile puts you at ease, and you can’t help but notice the genuine kindness in her eyes.

“I’m Chin-Sun, your psychologist,” she introduces herself, her soothing tone like a gentle wave lapping at the shore.

You exchange a fleeting glance with Jimin, silently acknowledging the strength he’s given you. With a deep breath, you follow the therapist into her office, leaving Jimin behind in the waiting area.

You feel a flutter of apprehension in your chest, but knowing that Jimin is just outside waiting for you, gives you a sense of security.

As you enter the therapist’s office, you feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you. But with Jimin’s reassurance still lingering, you know you can take that first step towards healing and finally find the courage to confront your past.

Outside, Jimin waits patiently, knowing that you’ll come out stronger, and that he’ll be there every step of the way.

As you enter her office, you’re immediately drawn to the inviting atmosphere that surrounds you. Chin-Sun gestures gracefully towards the plush couch adorned with an array of soft pillows.

It beckons you to sink into its comforting embrace, and you oblige, feeling a sense of calm wash over you already.

The small table in front of the couch catches your eye, adorned with candles, tissues, glasses and a jug of water, a thoughtful touch to create a soothing ambiance.

Seated on a chair in front of the table, Chin-Sun's serene presence envelops the room. Her warm smile and kind eyes put you at ease, and you find yourself feeling more relaxed in her company.

The office is a perfect balance of tranquility and professionalism. One wall, painted a soothing navy blue, adds a touch of depth and serenity to the space, while the rest of the room remains in calming white tones.

As you take a moment to glance around, you notice her neatly organized desk, equipped with a computer and other therapeutic resources.

Chin-Sun picks up her pen and paper, explaining her preference for taking notes. It gives you a sense of comfort to know that your thoughts and feelings will be heard and respected.

“It’s natural to feel nervous,” she assures, her gentle voice like a lifeline amidst the storm of your thoughts. “This is a place of healing, and there’s no judgment here. You have the power to set the pace, and if it ever becomes overwhelming, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

As you grapple with the knot of nerves in your stomach, you can’t help but apologize for your nervousness. She leans in, her empathy palpable, and reminds you that there’s no need to apologize. This is your journey, and the feelings you’re experiencing are entirely valid.

“I understand how unfamiliar this may be,” she acknowledges, validating your emotions.

“But remember, you’re here because you want to explore these emotions and experiences. It's okay to take your time and ease into it.” Her encouragement emboldens you, and you find the strength to meet her gaze.

You realize that this therapeutic space is not about judgment or quick fixes; it’s about embracing vulnerability and allowing yourself to heal at your own pace.

As you sit in the cozy confines of Chin-Sun’s office, her gentle encouragement puts you at ease. You feel a mixture of relief and vulnerability knowing that she has your medical report from the hospital and will be guiding you through this process with sensitivity and understanding.

She leans forward with a calming presence, offering you both empathy and professional expertise.

“When you are ready,” she begins, her words a gentle invitation, “can you start from the beginning?”

With each breath, you find the strength to speak your truth.

As you begin recounting the events that led to your trauma, you focus on the broad strokes as Chin-Sun suggested. The weight of the memories may be heavy, but you remind yourself that sharing them here is an essential step towards healing.

Chin-Sun listens with unwavering attention, her pen moving gently across the paper, capturing your words with care. She refrains from interrupting, giving you the space to voice your experiences without judgment.

Her approach allows you to navigate the emotional terrain at your own pace, and you feel seen and heard.

As you speak, you find solace in her empathetic eyes, and the vulnerability in sharing your story with a stranger gradually dissipates.

You appreciate that she doesn't pry or push for more details, respecting your boundaries and giving you the freedom to share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with.

The moments of silence that punctuate your narrative become opportunities for reflection. You appreciate that Chin-Sun doesn't rush to fill the void but rather allows you to gather your thoughts.

As the session draws to a close, you can sense Chin-Sun's genuine sadness for what you've endured.

Her compassion has created a safe space for you to share your experiences, and you appreciate her understanding demeanor. With just ten minutes left, Chin-Sun offers you the opportunity to ask any questions or discuss topics you'd like to explore in future sessions.

You feel a flicker of curiosity and decide to seize the moment.

“Actually… I do have some stuff that’s been on my mind. Can I ask you those questions?” you say, sitting up straight, determined to confront the thoughts that have been swirling in your mind.

Chin-Sun's gentle nod and sip of water give you the encouragement you need to voice your concerns. You share your lingering worry about your captor and whether he might still be out there searching for you.

The fear in your voice is evident as you whisper your words, as if speaking any louder might draw danger closer.

Understanding the weight of your concern, Chin-Sun responds with empathy, “I understand that. Do you have anybody that can help you feel safe while the police are looking for the perpetrator?”

You take comfort in her soothing smile as you fidget with the hem of your shirt.

Gathering your thoughts, you find the courage to speak about the one person who has provided you with a sanctuary – Jimin, your best friend and the detective who has taken you into his home.

Chin-Sun listens intently, acknowledging the significance of having someone like Jimin by your side during this trying time.

She allows you to express yourself fully, creating a space where your emotions and thoughts are validated.

As the floodgates of your emotions open, you find yourself pouring your deepest fears and vulnerabilities to Chin-Sun.

The weight of your trauma is overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes, threatening to spill. Though she tries to offer calming words of reassurance, you feel unable to listen.

The pain and trauma inflicted on you have shattered your trust in men, and you express the feeling that sex is now ruined for you. Images of your horrifying ordeal flash before your eyes, making it hard to escape the haunting memories.

In a desperate attempt to shut out the distressing visuals, you press your hands against your eyes, your body trembling as you curl your feet up onto the couch, seeking some form of comfort and safety.

Recognizing your anguish, Chin-Sun gently hands you tissues and moves to your side, offering a comforting hug.

“It might be incredibly hard in the beginning. But it is possible to trust again. It’s also possible to have sex again, if that is something you want. Just take your time and progress slowly. Do what you are comfortable with and stop and voice your feelings if you ever feel like it or if it goes too far,” she says, her comforting presence providing you a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

As you struggle to regain your composure, you take deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart and shaking body.

Gradually, the storm of emotions begins to subside, and you feel your body easing into a state of relaxation. The tears eventually stop flowing, leaving you emotionally drained but also somewhat relieved.

Before you leave her office, Chin-Sun offers valuable advice, emphasizing the importance of taking things slowly and not rushing yourself into anything.

She encourages you to communicate your feelings and boundaries with utmost honesty and to seek out the support of people you trust.

As you step out of the session, the burden of your trauma is not fully lifted, but you feel a glimmer of hope for the future.

Trusting again may be a daunting journey, but with Chin-Sun's guidance and support, you are determined to embark on the path to healing and rebuilding yourself.

Your resolve to take each step at your own pace, honoring your feelings and emotions as you move forward.

The thought of having sex again is something that both frightens and intrigues you, but you know that with time and support, you might find the strength to explore intimacy once more.

As you contemplate the future, you recognize that healing is not a linear process. There will be ups and downs, and that's okay. With Chin-Sun's encouragement, you feel more hopeful that, one day, you will reclaim your sense of security and find solace in the arms of someone who truly cares for you.

Maybe you have already found that one person, currently waiting for you in the waiting area.

As you enter the waiting area, Jimin's concern is evident on his face.

He takes in your swollen and red eyes, the dried tear streaks marking your cheeks, and he knows that the therapy session must have been emotionally taxing.

You sink into the seat, feeling a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Are you alright? How did it go?” Jimin’s voice is filled with genuine concern as he looks for your eyes seeking reassurance. You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking.

“I’m okay, Jimin. The session was good, but I’m just so emotionally drained” you say, your voice heavy with weariness. You reach for his hand, squeezing it gently, seeking comfort and connection.

“I’m here for you, always,” he responds softly, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. His unwavering support brings a flicker of warmth to your heart, and you find solace in the knowledge that you have someone by your side who truly cares for you.

“I’d like to go home and rest now,” you add, feeling the need to retreat and process the emotions that have been stirred up during the session. Jimin seems to understand, nodding in agreement.

“Of course, let’s head home,” he says as you walk out of the building, turning on the engine and shifting into gear. The car ride is quiet, but it’s a comforting silence, one that allows you to collect your thoughts and emotions.

As you arrive home, Jimin accompanies you inside, his presence a soothing balm to your weary soul. He lets you rest and recuperate, offering his unwavering support from the sidelines.

In the comfort of his home, you find a safe space to process your feelings and begin the healing journey.

It’s already Jimin’s last day off and he decides it’s a good idea to go grocery shopping so you don’t starve to death while he is working.

You are not really the best cook, so it was a good idea.

As you and Jimin stroll through the supermarket, filling the cart with groceries, the atmosphere is light-hearted and fun. Jimin seems to have a talent for turning even the most mundane tasks into enjoyable adventures, and you find yourself laughing and joking along the way.

“Hey, Jimin, remember that time we tried to cook together in college? It was a disaster!” you chuckle, recalling the disastrous attempt at making a simple pasta dish that ended up in a kitchen full of smoke.

Jimin grins, his eyes crinkling with amusement, “Oh, how could I forget? We set off the fire alarm!” he laughs at the disastrous memory.

You both burst into laughter, drawing a few curious glances from other shoppers, but you don't care. It feels good to let go of the burden of the past and embrace the present moment with your best friend.

As you reach the fresh produce section, Jimin playfully challenges you to a ‘vegetable picking’ contest. You both pretend to be food critics, carefully inspecting each vegetable, making exaggerated remarks about their texture and flavor profile.

It’s all just silly fun, but it brings an undeniable joy to your heart.

With the cart now filled with a colorful array of vegetables, starch, meat, canned goods, and some treats, you make your way to the cashier to pay.

With the grocery shopping done, you head back to Jimin's car, where he skillfully begins to load the bags into the trunk.

“I promise not to let you starve,” Jimin says with a grin, pulling more bags in the trunk and giving you a playful wink.

“We’ll make some delicious meals together. Who knows, maybe we’ll discover a hidden chef in you,” he sticks out his tongue playfully. You laugh, knowing very well that your cooking skills are far from impressive.

“Well, with your help, I might just become a master chef,” you tease back, enjoying the playful banter like old times.

As you stand next to Jimin, watching him load the groceries into the trunk, a sinister presence seems to linger in the shadows, shrouding you with unease.

You can't shake off the feeling that someone was there, watching, but when you glance back, the dark hooded figure has vanished without a trace.

Your heart races, and you try to shake off the feeling, not wanting to worry Jimin.

“Hey, are you alright?”

Jimin’s concerned voice interrupts your thoughts.

He looks at you with a hint of worry in his eyes, sensing that something might be bothering you. You quickly put on a facade, mustering a bright smile and nodding, “Yeah, I’m good to go home.”

As you get into the car, your mind is preoccupied with the mysterious figure you saw by the carts.

Who was it? What were they doing there?

And most importantly, why did they vanish so suddenly?

The questions swirl in your mind, but you keep your thoughts to yourself, not wanting to burden Jimin with your sudden discomfort.

The car ride back is filled with an awkward silence that wasn't there before. You steal glances at Jimin, trying to gauge if he senses anything amiss.

He's focused on the road, but his brows are slightly furrowed, indicating that he's concerned about you.

You decide to break the silence, attempting to distract yourself and Jimin from the unsettling encounter. “Hey, what do you think we should cook for dinner tonight?” you ask, trying to sound casual. You hope that talking about something mundane will help ease the tension.

He glances at you, a small smile forming on his lips, grateful for the change of topic.

“Hmm, how about that pasta dish we tried to make in college? I think we can ace it this time,” he suggests, trying to bring back the lightheartedness you both had earlier.

You chuckle, glad he’s playing along, even though your mind is still preoccupied with the mysterious figure.

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan. We’ll make sure to avoid having the firemen drop by for a visit” you reply, trying to match his playful tone.

Jimin can't shake the feeling that something is amiss with you ever since the grocery store. He tries to play it cool, giving you space to open up if you wish, but his concern gnaws at him like an itch he can't scratch.

He wishes you would confide in him, knowing that you could share anything with him if you wanted to. But as much as he wants to stay by your side indefinitely, reality beckons, and he knows he has to return to work tomorrow.

The thought of leaving you alone with your worries gnaws at him, but he trusts that you'll reach out to him when you're ready.

As Jimin prepares to leave for work, a mixture of concern and guilt gnaws at him. He hates the idea of leaving you alone, especially when he senses that something is still bothering you. But he knows that pushing you to talk won't help; you need the space to process your thoughts and emotions.

He stands by the door, hesitating for a moment before finally stepping outside.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he assures you, trying to put on a brave face despite his inner turmoil. “Take care of yourself, okay?” he gives you a small hug.

You nod, offering him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“I’ll be fine” you say, your voice soft and uncertain. He wishes he could read your mind, to understand the depth of what you’re going through, but he respects your boundaries.

As the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

The silence that fills the house feels overwhelming, and you find yourself wandering aimlessly from room to room, trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that linger in your mind.

You spend the day with Jimin's laptop on your thighs scouring YouTube for funny animal videos which gives you a few good laughs.

It helps keep your mind off the haunting feeling you feel inside. Your laughter is suddenly interrupted when you hear a knock at the door.

Startled, you place the laptop off to the side on the couch. It couldn’t be Jimin, because it was too early for him to be home yet.

You feel panic run through your body, but you force your feet to carry you to the door, unlocking it and opening it.

In front of you stands a man in a brown uniform sporting a yellow logo that reads ‘UPS’ on his left upper chest. You let out a relieved gasp as you place your right hand over your heart giving out a low chuckle at your reaction.

The UPS delivery man gives you a friendly smile. “Good morning Miss! I have a package for Mr. Park, is he home?” he asks politely.

“Oh, uh, no, he’s not home yet. But I can sign for it if you want?” you reply feeling a bit flustered by your initial panic.

“Sure thing! Just need your signature here” he says, handing you a small electronic device. You sign your name with a shaky hand, still trying to shake off the lingering nerves.

“Thank you. Have a great day!” he says cheerfully as he hands you the package. You see that your name is on it too.

“Thanks, you too,” you reply, managing a smile as you close and lock the door.

You lock the door and walk back to the couch, dropping down with a heavy thud.

You turn and twist the package to get some kind of information about its contents. You decide that you might as well open it, as it is also addressed to you.

You go to Jimin’s home office and find a pocket knife that you use to delicately cut along the tape to reveal its subject. It’s a phone. A brand new one at that! You take it out of the brown package and inspect the case that reads ‘Google Pixel 7A’.

You unbox the snow coloured phone and find a SIM card and the charger. In a matter of seconds, you have placed the SIM card in the phone and put it in the charger to power it up.

You let the phone charge in peace as you go to the fridge to grab some of the leftover food Jimin had been sweet enough to make for you yesterday.

Then you go back to leisurely browsing through YouTube on Jimin’s laptop while getting comfortable on the couch. You have already spent hours on the laptop, watching random videos of this and that.

But it had definitely helped keep your mind off things, so you hadn’t even noticed the time. It is already around dinnertime and you expect Jimin to be home soon.

You hear a key being inserted in the lock, twisting, and then Jimin enters with a tired smile dorning his face while he drags his body inside.

You jump to your feet, a burst of energy rushing through you, banishing the remnants of sleep from your body. With giddy feet and a spring in your step, you dance your way to Jimin, your heart warming at the sight of him.

“Did you have a good day?” you chirp, eager to bring a smile to his tired face.

Jimin lets out a tired sigh, his shoulders dropping slightly, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He runs his hands through his tousled hair, ruffling it in a way that makes your heart flutter.

“Yes, but tiring” he admits, the weariness evident in his eyes.

You pout at him playfully, determined to lift his spirits.

“Well, you’re home now, and that’s all that matters” you say with a soft smile, hoping to convey your genuine happiness to have him back.

His exhaustion seems to melt away as he gazes at you, and he nods, “And being home with you makes it even better.”

You reach out and embrace him in a big warm hug, feeling the comforting strength of his arms around you. He leans into the hug, his tiredness fading as he draws comfort from your presence. His scent, a delightful blend of musky vanilla and woody notes, envelopes you, making you feel safe and at home.

You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

His warmth and closeness ease the tension in your body, too, as if you're sharing the burden of the day together. For a moment, you both stand there, just holding each other, finding solace in the simple act of being there for one another.

“I missed you” he whispers into your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

You can feel your cheeks flushing red, grateful that he can't see your reaction with your face buried in his chest. You nuzzle your head against his sturdy pectorals, seeking comfort in his embrace, and he chuckles softly at the movement.

“I missed you too,” you murmur, looking up into his eyes. His tired gaze meets yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. You think you catch a hint of longing in his eyes, but you're not entirely sure. There's a depth to his gaze, a hidden emotion that leaves you yearning to unravel the mystery of his thoughts.

Still holding you close, he presses you gently against his body, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heart. His embrace is both protective and tender, making you feel safe and cherished.

The world outside fades away, and it's just the two of you, lost in the comfort of each other's arms.

You feel your body relax in his embrace, the tension of the day melting away. And then, in a playful gesture, you give him a gentle pinch on his side, right above his hips.

He jumps slightly, letting out a surprised, yet endearing, small shriek.

“I got your package” you giggle, pointing towards the new phone charging on the couch table. It's your way of breaking the momentary intensity, adding a touch of light-heartedness to the air.

He adjusts his head, following your gaze to the living room, where the package lies.

“Ah, right,” he says, his lips curving into a soft smile. “I hope you like it, princess” he adds, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

But as he utters the last word, your body tenses, and a wave of discomfort washes over you. His hand on your back feels heavy, and you take a step back, trying to create some distance.

He notices the sudden change in your demeanor and takes a concerned step forward, studying your face for any sign of distress. His playful expression fades as he sees pain and agony etched on your features.

You struggle to find your voice, your body still frozen in place, as if trapped in a moment of overwhelming vulnerability.

The room feels suffocating, and you try to take a deep breath, but your lungs refuse to cooperate.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat resonating with fear and unease.

Your mind races, unable to escape the grip of rising panic.

In that moment, you feel like a deer caught in headlights, unable to flee from the intensity of his gaze.

His concern only amplifies your discomfort, making it harder to find the words to explain what's wrong.

You realize you've been holding your breath, and you force yourself to exhale, hoping to dispel the growing tension within you.

But the freckles of a panic attack linger, threatening to engulf you in their overwhelming embrace.

Jimin takes another step closer, his hands reaching out gently, as if trying to touch the pain you're hiding inside. But you step back again, creating more distance between you.

It's not that you don't appreciate his concern; it's just that you're not ready to confront the tumultuous emotions swirling within you.

As the tears flow freely down your cheeks, your voice trembles with each syllable, making it difficult to articulate your feelings.

Jimin's grip on your shoulders loosens, his concern evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. “I–, I'm sorry,” you manage to stammer out, your breath still uneven.

“It's just... a horrible memory came over me.”

Jimin's eyes soften with understanding, and he pulls you gently into a comforting hug, allowing you to bury your face in his shoulder. His embrace feels warm and secure, offering solace and safety in the midst of your turmoil.

As you regain control of your breath, you find yourself locking eyes with Jimin, his gaze filled with concern and regret.

The atmosphere is charged with emotions, and you can feel the electricity between you two. Your boldness surprises even yourself, but it's as if a newfound courage has taken hold of you in this vulnerable moment.

“That's what he called me,” you repeat, your voice steadier now. “It's a trigger, I guess...” you gulp the realization down your throat as you try to regain composure.

Jimin's eyes soften, and he nods understandingly, his hands gently holding yours, reassuring you that he's there for you.

“I didn't know,” Jimin repeats, his voice soft and remorseful. “I would never intentionally hurt you, Y/N.”

“I know you wouldn't, Jiminie” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “It's just that... that word brought back memories I've been trying to forget.”

“I'm so sorry you had to go through that,” he says, his voice filled with empathy.

“You don't have to face this alone” with his presence, the haunting feeling starts to subside, and you find comfort in his unwavering support. You're grateful for the breathing technique you learned in therapy, but it's Jimin's presence that truly grounds you.

Jimin's hand finds its way to your cheek, gently caressing it as he looks at you with unwavering support.

“I'm here for you, Y/N. You can tell me anything, and I'll do my best to understand and help.”

His words resonate deep within your soul, making you realize how lucky you are to have him in your life. Despite the pain, there's a warmth in knowing that Jimin genuinely cares about you and wants to be there for you.

As you lock eyes with him, you feel a surge of affection and gratitude.

“Thank you” you whisper, feeling the weight of your vulnerability lessen with each passing moment. Jimin's embrace tightens, pulling you into him as if he never wants to let you go.

“You don't have to thank me,” he murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness.

“I'll always be here for you, no matter what.”

Author’s note: I don’t know what happened! I planned to write like 5K words to get back into writing and then boom 40K+ 😆I don’t really know how I feel about this story, but I wanted to post it because I finished something 🎉If it’s shit, I’m really sorry. Also, I just couldn’t decide which hair color to give Jimin, because I love all colors on him, so I settled with black 😊

| s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

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btsfests · 5 months

Text

Please Note: This is not the full collection of AUs/genres we have on the list, but Tumblr is policing us on how many we can put!

♡ MAIN NAVIGATION ♡ ASK ♡ FEST MASTERLISTS ♡ DAILY PROMPTS LIST ♡

#bts fests #can we get an intereessst cheeeeck

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Ashes Falling | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut, crack, DadYoongi!AU, BadCop!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: weapons - guns, switching POVs, angst!, allusions to murder, mentions of blood/wounds, fighting (hand-to-hand), shooting, Yoongi shows off that tongue technology (oral sex - f receiving), rough fucking (protected sex), Yoongi is not a good guy (ymmv)

Word Count: 5.3k (whoops)

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: I see the ashes falling out your window There's someone in the mirror that you don't know And everything was all wrong So burn it till it's all gone

A/N: And we've reached the end! This series came out of absolutely nowhere thanks to @minttangerines's beautiful brain and it's been fun just writing with no plan and no expectations. Thank you for riding along! 💜

Chapter title and summary from Agust D's masterpiece Burn It 🔥

Unbeta’d as usual. I’d love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Part 6 💵 Bad Cop Masterlist

Then

Yoongi sits across from you, one hand resting on the dining table, the other playing with a glass of whisky. Around and around, the caramel liquid swirls. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was trying to hypnotize you.

And it might work, if you were anyone else. Of course, anyone else would already be under the handsome man’s thrall. Especially the way he looks tonight - in his tailored suit, bespoke undoubtedly, since money is apparently no object for him, and with his dark hair slicked back to reveal more of his gorgeous face.

When he’d asked you to dinner tonight, you’d felt a slight thrill of victory, knowing that your plan was working. You’d succeeded so far in inserting yourself into his life. All the secrets the Bureau wanted so desperately for you to discover were practically within your grasp. You just needed a sign from him to confirm that you’re in.

“So are you thinking of extending your contact?” Yoongi asks, sipping at his drink. You’d told him when you’d first met that you were working for Da-som’s school for a year, with the option to extend if the school agreed. He speaks casually, almost disinterestedly, but you can hear the true question beneath - are you staying?

“I think so. I really like it here.”

A hint of a smile crosses his face at your answer. Long fingers reach into the inside pocket of his jacket and produce a cigarette, which he lights with the click of a flashy silver lighter. There’s not supposed to be any smoking in this restaurant, but no one’s going to stop the chief detective of the city’s police force, and he knows it. It’s a power move.

“Good,” is all he says, blowing a smoke ring towards the ceiling.

Anyone other than you would be affected by his reaction. By the heated look he gives you, gaze slipping down your face, down to your waist, and back. Not you, though. You know better than to fall for any of this.

This is what you remind yourself as you push your thighs together, trying to still the sudden throbbing there.

Your waiter returns with the bill and Yoongi simply reaches into his pocket, dropping a stack of cash on the tray without looking. Another power move.

“Thank you for dinner,” you smile shyly, setting down your dessert fork. “I’m - I’m glad you asked me. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better these last few weeks.”

He leans forward, reaching his hand across the table to where yours is resting. When his fingers tap you, you flip your hand over and he slides his hand on top of yours. You immediately register something cool and hard between your palms.

“Me too,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to stop.”

He pulls his hand back a little, curling your fingers around what he’s left behind. Yoongi stands, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it as he bows.

“I’ll be waiting,” he murmurs, lips humming against your skin, and then he walks away. You track him as he saunters confidently through the crowded room, until he reaches the entrance of the restaurant and vanishes.

Opening your hand, you stare down at the piece of plastic lying there. A room key, to the hotel next door. There it is - your sign.

The excitement that blazes through you is the ecstasy of knowing you’ve succeeded. Of realizing that you’re one step closer to the win, and nothing else.

This is what you tell yourself as you rise to your feet, and follow.

Now

Your bag rests on the passenger seat as you hurtle down the highway. The car you’re driving is a piece of shit, but you were in no position to barter when you’d asked Seokjin if he had anything you could borrow to finish your mission. He’d called a friend of a friend and mere minutes later you were on your way.

The police cruiser is still at Seokjin's, along with Jungkook. Your partner had been sleeping when you’d left, whispering a quick goodbye, telling him to stay put and rest while you finished the job. Seokjin promised he’d take care of him and you had no doubt that he would be safe there.

The car’s shocks are fairly worn, meaning every little bump in the road sends your satchel bouncing. Instinctively, you reach out, searching until you find the little key tucked away in an inner pocket. The cold metal soothes you as you clutch at it anxiously. This is it, the final key to bringing Yoongi down.

Your plan is, frankly, insane. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Thankfully, Seokjin gave you access to his personal arsenal, which is not small. But even if you’re strapped to the teeth, you’ll practically need a miracle.

However, you’re not the praying type. Your faith resides solely in yourself. So you breathe deeply, and keep your eyes firmly on the road as you run through your plan again and again in your mind.

As the bay comes into view, you pull over, parking the car near the entrance to the neighborhood where Yoongi’s second house resides. You’ll have to go on foot from here, to remain unseen by his men. Yoongi’s too careful to leave this place unmanned.

You approach the fence bordering his mansion, peering between the iron bars. His vacation home is massive, a sprawling ode to excess, flaunting his new wealth. The layout of the place is fresh in your mind, thanks to floor plans stolen from the developer. Unfortunately, that’s not going to help you much if you’re outnumbered by Yoongi’s men. If only you could’ve waited for sundown, to give you more cover, or waited for backup, but right now you don’t have the luxury of time.

A hand suddenly slips over your mouth and your eyes widen as someone presses their body against your back. Fuck! You grasp at their arm, readying yourself to attack, when a familiar voice hisses, “Don’t scream! It’s me.”

“Jungkook! What the fuck!”

Your partner releases you. He’s a little paler than usual, but otherwise looks like himself, even in Seokjin’s clothing, a black t-shirt tucked under a Kevlar vest, colorful sleeve of tattoos bright in the midday sun.

“Did you really think I was gonna let you do this alone?” He grins, ignoring your scowl. “Now what’s the plan?”

There’s no point in arguing with him. He’s here now, and even though you’re full of conflicting emotions - anger that he didn’t listen to you, guilt that you’re the reason he got injured - the feeling that overrides them all is pure, intense relief. Of course he’s by your side. You’re not alone.

It doesn’t take long to fill him in. You’re basically just going in there with guns blazing, hoping to fight your way to where you believe Yoongi’s safe sits, holding the box with the secrets that little key will unlock.

Jungkook just nods when you’ve finished. “Got it.”

“We should probably call for backup.”

“Already did, on the way here. They’ll be here as fast as they can, but something tells me that you don’t want to wait.”

“I don’t.” You need this to be over, now.

“Okay then. Ready when you are.”

“Jungkook.” You pause, unsure how to say this. “I’m sorry. For everythi- ”

But he stops you with a shake of his head. “None of that. We’ve got a job to do.” He cups his hands, waiting to give you a boost over the fence. “Come on. You lead. I’ll follow. Like always.”

With a nod of your own, you step onto his hands, and climb the fence.

Then

Yoongi glances at his watch. It’s only been five minutes since he left you sitting at the table, but it feels much, much longer. Too long. He loosens his tie a bit as he waits. His suit jacket is folded over the back of the chair beside the bed. The room is quiet.

Is he rushing things? It’s very like him to do that. He could move more slowly with you. But, well, he doesn’t want to. He wants you now.

Which is why he’s here, perched on the edge of the bed, staring at the door. Waiting.

It’s not just about sex. If Yoongi only wanted to get his dick wet, he wouldn’t have to take anyone out on several dates first. That’s not arrogance - it’s a fact that he radiates power, and women are attracted to that. And he knows he looks good. He has mirrors.

No, it’s more than that - although he’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been imagining this moment since the first time he saw you in Da-som’s classroom. He’d been so distracted by your beauty at the parent-teacher conference that he’d accidentally agreed to chaperone a class trip, just nodding along to whatever you were saying while picturing what you’d look like if he bent you over your desk right then and there. But beyond his baser needs, there’s something else. Something that draws him to you. He senses a kindred spirit. He needs to know how deep that connection goes.

There’s a loud click and the door suddenly opens. Yoongi stands as you enter.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” you say, biting your lip before smiling sweetly.

In just three steps he’s across the room, pulling you into his arms for a passionate kiss.

He quietly orders you to lift your arms, and the gorgeous dress you’d worn to dinner crumples into a soft ball of fabric on the ground. With sure steps he maneuvers you towards the bed, helping you sit on the edge, kindly freeing your breasts from the confining corsetry of your bra as he goes. While you settle onto the soft sheets, he slides your panties down your legs, taking care to rake his fingers along the soft skin there, delighting in the way you shudder at his touch.

The plush carpet gives way beneath his knees as he kneels, leaning over to kiss you, getting lost in the incredible softness of your lips for a moment, until your hands reach for the buttons on his shirt. His hands lightly push yours away as he shakes his head.

“Not yet, baby.”

“But I wanna see you,” you say, pretty mouth turning down in a lovely little pout. “It’s not fair that I’m naked and you’re not.”

He just chuckles. Smoothly, he undoes one cufflink, then the other, rolling his sleeves to his elbows. His forearms flex with the motion, drawing your attention, and he smirks.

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, “I’ll still put on a good show for you.”

He kneels again, gently pressing his fingers into the bare skin of your stomach, urging you to lie back. One of your thighs comes to rest on his shoulder, then the other. With one hand he spreads your folds, saliva flooding his mouth at the glistening sight in front of him.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you look good enough to eat.”

You mewl as he kisses your dripping cunt, over and over, getting his mouth all sticky with your desire. Yoongi always follows through on his promises, and this is no exception. You can’t tear your eyes away from the dark-haired man as he rubs his lips, his tongue, his nose all over you, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Occasionally your head drops back, your eyes closing as if overwhelmed by the sensations, but then they immediately open again, not wanting to miss a second.

“Yoongi.”

Panting moans fill Yoongi’s ears as he drowns in you. When he finds the right rhythm with his tongue on your clit, a rapid lapping that has your hips lifting off the bed, he slides a finger inside your slick warmth, then two, three, and your moans become cries. Pleas, broken and desperate, begging him for more.

Impatience roars up inside him again and he lets your legs slide from his broad shoulders. His cock aches as he tears off his clothing, sheathing himself with the condom waiting in his pocket, and you’ve barely moved up on the bed to make room for him when he’s sliding inside you. Fuck. So warm, so tight. A space carved out just for him.

The headboard smacks into the wall repeatedly as Yoongi thrusts into you, hips slapping your ass with every sharp snap. You’re babbling, an endless stream of words pouring from your mouth, but the only words Yoongi can make out are “Yoongi” and “more.”

“You want more, baby? I’ll give you everything. Anything you could ever want.”

He goes harder, faster, driving his cock deeper and deeper. His hands grope at your breasts, your ass, as you take everything he has to give. When he feels your walls start to constrict, it’s almost a relief, because he’s not going to last much longer. And sure enough, when your orgasm hits, your cunt grips his cock so tightly that he cums, head dropping onto your chest as he fills the condom with his hot release.

He lies that way, cheek pressed into the curve of your breast, breathing heavily as you both come down. From here, he can feel your heart pounding. It’s not identical to the way his own drums, but instead compliments it, a wild syncopation beating along to the steady pulse of his own tempo. His fingers tap along your sternum.

“Is that morse code?” Your voice is just barely above a whisper, as if you don’t want to shatter the peaceful stillness of the moment.

He lifts his head, smiling. “That’s your heartbeat. I’m playing along.”

“Playing what, my collarbones?”

“My piano.” His fingers dance over imaginary keys, caressing your skin so, so gently.

“I didn’t know you had a piano. Or that you could play.”

There’s so much you don’t know about him. So much he wants to show you. But he knows that it will take time. He has to ease you into his world.

“I’ll play for you sometime,” he says, crawling up your body until his face hovers over yours. “If you’d like.”

“I would like that. Very much,” you reply, lips curling into a shy grin, and he kisses it away until you’re breathless.

Eventually, he has to go. He needs to get home to Da-som. Yoongi can defeat any enemy - except a babysitter with a curfew.

He sits on the edge of the bed, fixing his tie, as you watch him from beneath the sheets. “The room’s paid for until tomorrow, so you can stay all night if you want. Order some room service in the morning. Treat yourself, sweetheart.”

The corner of your mouth twitches. “You keep calling me that.”

“Is that okay?”

In reply, you pull him in for another kiss, and he sighs, wishing he could stay. Or take you home with him. But he’s not ready to have that conversation with Da-som yet. Even though he’s rushing everything else.

He taps his fingers on your chest. “Sleep well, sweetheart.”

He starts to rise, but you grab his wrist, holding him in place.

“Yoongi. I don’t…”

He says nothing, waiting for you to find your words.

“I don’t do this with every father I meet, you know,” you finish, flashing that beautiful bashful smile again.

“Just me?”

“Just you.” Your hand reaches out to straighten his tie, but then you gently brush your fingertips over his chest, mimicking his actions from earlier. Tap-tap-tap.

In that moment, Yoongi knows. He’ll do anything for you. Like he told you earlier, when he was wrapped in your arms - he’ll give you anything you want.

All you have to do is ask.

Now

Bodies. So many bodies, scattered around the grounds of his house. Yoongi blinks dispassionately at them all. He thought he’d hired the best. Clearly, he was wrong.

Yoongi honestly hadn’t known what to expect when he and Jimin arrived at his house on the bay. One of his guards had called him while he was on his way here and alerted him that you’d been spotted near the fence bordering his property. He’d hoped that when he got here, he’d find you waiting for him, tied to a chair by one of his guards. But it appears that he’d underestimated your skills, if you managed to take out so many of his men at once.

No one appears to be dead, but they’re all knocked out or wounded. Interesting. Are you afraid to use lethal force? Or are you just saving your best shots for him?

Together, he and Jimin sweep the first floor, finding nothing but his more useless guards. With a few silent signals, Jimin indicates that he’s going to scout ahead, and begins to climb the stairs. Yoongi watches him disappear down the hallway with a growing sense of unease. He tightens his grip on his gun.

Jimin reappears after a moment, shaking his head. There’s only the other end of the hallway to explore now. The master suite is down that way. Where, in one of the walk-in closets, nestled in the corner, sits Yoongi’s safe.

Maybe you’re not here. Maybe you’re already gone, with the contents of the safe firmly in tow. Maybe it’s all over, and any second now, this place will be swarming with feds. For the briefest of moments, Yoongi feels the strangest sense of relief at the thought.

And then the moment is broken as a very loud “God damn it!!” rings out.

Jimin instinctively points his gun in the direction of the screaming. It’s coming from the master suite. Yoongi joins him at the top of the stairs.

“It’s her,” he states in a hushed tone. “That’s her voice.”

“Sounds like someone might be giving her a rough time?”

There are no other sounds coming from the direction of the suite. No more curses, no scuffling, none of the sickening noises that a human body makes when someone else is beating the shit out of it.

“Nah. She’s working on the combination.”

“At least it sounds like it’s not going well.”

For the moment. You have the key to the safe, but it’s a dual lock system, requiring a combination as well. Yoongi has no doubt you’ll figure out the date he used. It’s just a matter of time.

So he’d better not give you any more.

Yoongi grimaces, the gun suddenly heavy in his hands. “You ready?”

Jimin nods.

Silently, they creep forward. The door to the master suite looms at the end of the hall, and Yoongi feels his already frantic pulse increasing with every step.

And then a floorboard creaks under Yoongi’s foot. Loudly.

Both men pause, staring at one another. Listening. Waiting.

The door at the end of the hall starts to open. Jimin dives into an empty room to his left, while Yoongi dashes into the bathroom on his right

The mirror mounted on the wall faces towards the end of the hallway. As Yoongi hides, he stares at the reflection of the person emerging from the suite. Shit, it’s Jungkook, gun drawn as he carefully sweeps the other open rooms down the hall. So much for Jimin’s incredible marksman skills - the rookie cop slash undercover agent doesn’t look any worse for wear, let alone dead.

The door at the end of the hall opens again. Yoongi’s breath catches. With a fiercely determined expression on your face and that gun in your hand, you look nothing like the sweet, shy teacher he met all those months ago. A mirthless chuckle bubbles up in his chest. He clenches his jaw to keep it down. Funny how he was right - you are a kindred spirit, after all. Just a funhouse version of one. Staring at him from the other side of the mirror.

“Jungkook,” he hears you whisper, tracing your partner’s footsteps. “Where are you?”

“In here. Did you crack it?” Jungkook reappears, gun lowered, and -

BANG!

A bullet slices through the air between you and Jungkook. The two of you immediately dive, raising your guns in the direction of the gunshot - which, of course, was just Jimin announcing his presence.

“Drop your weapon and come out!” you shout.

Jimin just laughs, shaking his head. “Does that shit ever work?”

“Goddamn it, it’s that maniac again,” you hiss, loud enough for Yoongi to hear.

“Did you miss me, love?” Another wild cackle. Yoongi glares at the younger man, but says nothing, not wanting to give away his location.

Faster than lightning, Jimin fires another shot towards the end of the hall.

“Fuck!” Jungkook yells, placing himself between you and the line of sight to the room where Yoongi can see Jimin crouching just inside. “Get back in there and keep trying! I’ll handle this asshole.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, Yoongi looks at Jimin. He points to himself and then the door at the end of the hall. Jimin nods.

“Oh, you will, will you?” Jimin taunts Jungkook. He grins at Yoongi. “I think - HEY!” Jimin dives aside as a bullet pierces the doorway, embedding itself firmly in the open door that Jimin was just leaning against. “You son of a bitch, you almost clipped my hair!”

“Next one’s going in your forehead!”

“As if you could hit my forehead!”

“How can I miss a target that big?”

“THAT’S IT!” Jimin roars. “YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?” He rolls up his sleeves, giant snake tattoo on his arm practically dancing as he clenches his fists.

“Yeah! You already took one from me! It’s time for payback!”

Jimin unbuckles his harness, letting the weapons hit the floor. “Then let’s do this! I’ll tear you apart with my bare hands!”

“LET’S GO, MOTHERFUCKER!” Jungkook screams, and suddenly there are two blurs flying down the hallway towards each other. They collide with a loud “whump!” and Yoongi quickly slips out of the bathroom and towards the master suite.

He opens the door slowly, much slower than the adrenaline coursing through his body wants him to, but he doesn’t want you to hear him entering. The two men behind him pay no attention, lost in their frenzy, powerful blows landing left and right. Yoongi closes the door just as carefully, twisting the knob so the lock clicks quietly into place.

Gun raised, he takes one step towards the closet. Then another. The door is wide open, but the closet is so big that he can’t see the safe in the corner. Or you.

As soon as he crosses the threshold, there’s a loud shriek as you jump out from behind the door and tackle him. His gun goes flying. He lands on his side, the breath in his lungs whooshing out hurriedly as you roll on top of him, thighs straddling his chest.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move.” You cock your gun, aiming it straight at his head. “I knew that maniac didn’t come alone.”

Although your hands are steady, your chest rises with every panting breath you take, Yoongi notes. He feels his entire tensed body relax. You’re scared.

Good.

Yoongi smirks. “What are you gonna do, sweetheart? Shoot me?” He grabs the barrel of your gun as you gasp, but your finger doesn’t squeeze the trigger, even when he pulls it down until it presses into his forehead. “Go ahead.”

“Stop it!” You try to yank your gun free, but he refuses to let go. You tug harder and harder, until he finally relinquishes his grip, and the force of your momentum throws you off balance. Yoongi scrambles to grab his gun as you’re knocked into a pile of hangers and clothing lying in a heap on the ground. When you rise, there’s a bright red line of blood seeping down your cheek, from where a hanger has cut you.

The two of you face off, guns drawn. Yoongi tuts.

“Oh, sweetheart, your face. That looks nasty.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snarl.

“No? But I thought you liked it?”

“I never did.”

“Ah. Right. All part of the game, huh?” Yoongi laughs. “None of it was real, huh.”

“It’s all over now.” Blood trickles down your cheek, dripping onto the pristine white carpet below. “Put the gun down, Yoongi. Think about Da-som. Think about -”

“No!” Yoongi takes a step forward. You hold your ground, but he swears he catches a flash of fear in your eyes. He should know, he’s seen it many times before. “Don’t you fucking tell me what to do! No one tells me what to do! I make the rules around here. I call the shots!”

“Not anymore! We know everything. Everything. Your empire is burning down, Yoongi - don’t throw your life away trying to protect ashes!”

“Oh, you know everything?” The mad laughter that’s been choking him finally slips past his lips. “Do you really? Fuck! You have no fucking idea!” Another step forward. He keeps his gun raised, but he’s cackling so wildly that his aim is all over the place. “Do you have any idea what I would’ve done for you? What I would’ve given you? Anything you wanted, anything you needed, it all would’ve been yours!”

“It wasn’t real, Yoongi!”

“IT WAS REAL TO ME!”

You freeze, eyes wide, as his shout echoes through the suite. Faintly, Yoongi can hear Jungkook and Jimin still fighting in the hallway. But it’s dead silent in the closet, where you’re still gazing at his face, as if searching for some sort of sign.

Yoongi lowers his gun. He closes the gap between you, ignoring that your gun is now pointed directly at his heart, and reaches out with steady fingers.

Tap-tap-tap

The silence in the closet is stifling, pressing in on him. But then you take in a shuddery breath. When Yoongi dares to look up, he sees tears in your eyes.

But time, it seems, has run out.

In the distance, but growing closer, he can hear the blaring wail of sirens.

“YN!” Jungkook yells. The doorknob rattles. “Are you okay in there?”

Yoongi’s fucked. He’s going down, and -

“Go,” you whisper. “You have to run.”

There’s a loud thumping. Jungkook must be trying to break the door down with brute force. He’ll probably go grab his gun and try to shoot his way in next. Or any moment now, agents are going to come crashing through the windows. These are the panicked thoughts that race through Yoongi’s mind and prevent him from understanding what you’ve said. You drop your gun and grab his arms, shaking him.

“Yoongi! Do you hear me? You have to run!” There’s a ferocity in your eyes that Yoongi’s never seen in anyone’s gaze but his own. “I know you have a back way out of here. You have to go now. Yoongi? Hey!”

SMACK!

There’s a white-hot sting on his cheek.

“Fuck, sweetheart!” He rubs away the pain left behind by your slap.

A ghost of a smile crosses your face. The door has stopped shaking. “Listen, Jungkook will be in here any second. My team is likely already setting up a barricade and surrounding the place. You have to get to the water. Grab Da-som, start running, and never look back.”

Da-som. Son of a bitch, he can’t lose her. The weight of everything he stands to lose finally comes crashing down. “Fuck, what have I done?”

There’s a shout from the hallway, a berserker cry, and Yoongi realizes Jimin must have rallied for one last attack. Quickly, you take Yoongi’s hands, guiding him to stand again, and then lead him to the far corner of the master bedroom, where you push aside a bookshelf to reveal a darkened passageway, hidden from the outside. You really did know everything.

Or at least, now you do.

The screaming sirens have stopped. Yoongi can hear voices out on the lawn.

“I know you said you’re the one calling the shots, but you need to listen to me now. I’ll take care of everything else. But you - you can’t ever resurface, Yoongi. This is a one-time deal. Take Da-som and disappear. Please,” you whisper, clutching his hands. “Please, do this. If not for Da-som, if not for you - do it for me.”

Even with his impending doom hovering just on the other side of the bedroom door, Yoongi can’t stop the way he feels. Of course he’ll run.

Anything for you.

Footsteps begin to echo throughout the house. Yoongi pulls you into his arms, embracing you one last time as his lips crash onto yours.

And then he runs.

Epilogue

You open the door to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and flop onto the couch. Another fucking long day. The planning for your latest mission is completely draining your energy. For not the first time in recent weeks, you wonder if you should listen to Jungkook’s advice and put in for that time off request. You could definitely use the break.

Unconsciously, your fingers rub at the scar on your cheek. It hasn’t hurt for years, but in the last few weeks, it’s been itching like crazy. Jungkook always jokes that he can tell that it’s going to rain whenever his bullet wound aches. You wonder what the scar is trying to tell you.

Eventually, you drag yourself off the couch and shuffle down the hallway towards the bathroom, dying for a shower. But then you hear a soft sound coming from the door behind you, like something’s sliding along the floor, and you freeze.

There’s an envelope laying in the entryway. Instinctively, you place a hand on the holster of your gun as you peer through the peephole. No one there. No one in the hallway, either, when you open your door.

The envelope has your first name on it, nothing else. With careful fingers, you tear it open, and read the scrap of paper inside:

35.9285° N, 128.5774° E

Coordinates. To what location?

You flip it over:

I’ll be waiting.

You sink onto the couch, staring so intently at the words that you’re surprised the paper doesn’t burst into flames from the intensity of your gaze.

It’s been five years with no word on Yoongi’s whereabouts. Once Jungkook finally knocked out Jimin and shot the door open, he’d found you lying on the floor, pretending to be unconscious. Yoongi had given up and fled the scene. The Bureau believed your story, likely helped by the fact that Yoongi had left behind his safe and all the secrets it contained. His empire crumbled.

Even though Yoongi’d evaded your capture, you were hailed as the hero of the day and moved on to the next case. And the next, and the next. Days turned into months turned into years.

Once the mission was over, you never brought it up again. Occasionally, Jungkook or Seokjin would try to get you to talk. But you simply told them that you had nothing to say. The case was closed.

(To say nothing of your heart.)

And yet… it wasn’t entirely true. If you’d chosen to talk to your friends, you might have told them that you still found yourself thinking about it from time to time. About Yoongi. And where he was. That sometimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d scour countless resources, searching for him. Yet no matter how much you looked, you never found a single sign.

Until, maybe, now. You glance at the paper, and it dawns on you what it really is.

A key.

…

You rise to your feet.

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