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You loved days like this one, days where you didn't have anything on your schedule, and Jimin would be getting home early. Days where you could be in your sweet headspace all fogged up and longing to just spread out on the bed and lounge around, or follow Jimin around the house and be in his presence. Which was exactly what you were looking forward to, curled up impatiently on the bed as you scrolled through your phone.
The sound of the door's code lock chiming as it unlocked caught your attention, and you perked up eagerly. You waited, one beat, then two until Jimin called.
"Angel, I'm home." He said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. He knew you were waiting, never wanting to invade his space when he got home until you knew he was ready to be around you. At his call, you scrambled off the bed, nearly falling in your haste to get to him. You didn't run, you knew he didn't like it when you ran in the house, instead shuffling as quickly as you could manage down the hall and through the living room to the door. You beamed, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
"Welcome home, Sir." You greeted brightly, your hands folding in front of you in an attempt to keep from dragging him straight to the bed and curling up to him. You weren't supposed to touch without his permission, a rule he'd put in place to help his own overstimulation. Coming home after a long day could make him overly sensitive, and you were a little clingy sometimes - not that he minded of course, you were his angel - and the two could lead to unwanted tension if you weren't careful.
He motioned to you, holding out a hand to you and laughing when you practically pounced on him, arms looping around his waist and face burying against his shoulder.
"Missed you. Been gone so long," You huffed, your hands fisting into his shirt and keeping him close. He reached up, stroking your hair and letting you relax against him.
"I'm sorry Angel, but at least it was a short day. I would have been home sooner, but I had to pick something up on the way back." He said. You pulled away, your head tilting to the side as you blinked at him with curious eyes. He bit back the urge to kiss all over your face. You were too adorable, he didn't know how he survived seeing it every day.
"What did you pick up? Can I see?" You asked, shifting your weight back and forth as you not so subtly tried to find what he'd brought with him. It must have been fairly small, you deduced, since he was just carrying the same bag he'd had when he left.
"You can, but not yet. Let's go to the bedroom first." He said, sweeping past you and letting you obediently trail after him.
In the bedroom, he closed the door behind you, sitting himself on the edge of the bed and giving you another simple gesture. You didn't hesitate, sinking to your knees in front of him on the floor and looking up at him quietly, pressing your palms flat to your thighs. You tried to ignore the way your mind sped up with anticipation.
Had he brought home a toy? Something new to play with? Or maybe a new outfit for you to try? Or maybe he just wanted you to submit for a little while, release the pent up stress of his day. He patted his thigh, and you crawled forward until you could rest your chin on his knee. He smiled, stroking across your cheek and leaving a small tap against your nose.
"You're so good for me, did you know that?" He asked, a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He could see your reaction in an instant, your eyes half squinting shut and your chin jutting out proudly at his praise. "Always listen so well, and never ask for more than you need. Always so appreciative just to be with me. I appreciate you too, Angel. More than you'll ever know."
A warmth bloomed through your chest as you leaned your head closer to his touch. You really did adore being with Jimin, it was your favorite way to decompress. You would relax, give all of your thoughts, your stress and your worries over to him, and effortlessly he would weave them into something better, something nicer. A garland of love and pleasure and peace that draped around your neck.
"Do you remember the conversation we had before about wanting to mark you as mine? To tie us together like this?" He asked, his fingers sliding down to tip your chin up, guiding your fogged up gaze to his. You nodded a little, blinking up at him. "Are you still comfortable with the collar idea?"
His thumb slipped lower, running down the side of your neck carefully, and you nodded again, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You'd talked about collars plenty of times, and Jimin had been collecting ideas for you, getting a feel for what you liked. You'd both decided on just getting a play collar for the time being, one you could wear when it was just the two of you. A symbol to coax you deeper into the sweet relief of your headspace without having to take that step out into the everyday world just yet.
"Good. Just wanted to check, sweet thing. Gotta make sure my baby is feeling good." He said, and you made a delighted little noise. He reached for the dance bag that sat on the floor beside him, unzipping it and sliding out a long black box. You perked up again, sitting up straighter and craning your neck to try and see the gold script on the top of the box, but Jimin fixed you with a stern look, and you quickly resettled yourself, trying to keep your anticipation at bay.
He opened the box slowly, carefully setting the lid aside and pulling out the contents. Inside was a pretty strip of leather, deep red with a buckle on the back and a heavy, gold heart dangling from the front of it.
"Do you want to see it?" He asked, and you squirmed, nodding quickly. He chuckled, telling you to hold your hands out. You didn't hesitate to do so, a new wave of excitement washing over you as he placed the collar in your palms. You smoothed your fingers along it. Smooth, and cool to the touch. Sturdy. You pouted at it for a moment before turning back to your Dom with pleading in your eyes.
"Put it on, Sir?" You asked, holding it back out to him. He chuckled, taking it from you and standing up to step around you. He leaned down, carefully situating the collar around your neck and doing up the buckle. His fingers poked and tugged under the edges, testing how tight it was, turning your head this way and that to make sure it wasn't restricting anything.
"How's it feel?" He asked, looking down at you as he settled in front of you again. "Too tight?"
You shook your head, fingers coming to trace along the vivid reminder of your commitment to Jimin, of his to you. You were his to cherish and care for, his to keep for as long as you'd have him. And as far as you were concerned, that meant forever.
"It's perfect. I love it."
Jimin motioned for you to stand, guiding you hand in hand towards the mirror where he wrapped his arms around your waist, the both of you gazing at his claim wrapped delicately around your throat.
Some people wanted wedding bands, or matching tattoos that meant forever. But this, you thought, this pretty little piece of leather was all you wanted. This was a promise that meant more than any words ever could.
copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved
hi bubs, first things first, i miss you all so much!!! this is super short and kind of plotless, i’m still struggling to write lately which is why i haven’t come back from hiatus so...be easy on me? but i just wanted to write something super soft for jimin for his day, happy birthday baby we love you so so so so much!! you deserve to be showered in all the kisses and cuddles and love today and everyday!
“Jimin..you have to turn that damn alarm off.” Your grumble into the pillow was met with a raspy whine of protest from the man beside you, huffing as he pulled your back to his chest and leaned over your frame to reach the nightstand.
You let out a sigh of content at both the silencing of the repetitive blare as well as the warmth of Jimin’s bare chest against the skin of your arm, nuzzling into him as he placed a sleepy kiss to your cheek before dropping his temple atop your own.
While you and your boyfriend were no strangers to early mornings, it didn’t mean that they got any easier over time.
In fact, the more time you spent with Jimin, the less you wanted him to leave for work, wishing you could spend every waking moment with the kind and compassionate soul you’d fallen in love with over the past several months instead.
“Do you have a busy day today?” You mumbled, voice still laced with sleep as you posed the question.
“Hm,” Jimin hummed in thought, obviously still foggy from his state of consciousness, “kind of. Practice, few interviews.”
Peeping an eye open to glance at the alarm clock, you sighed at the time displayed in red blocky numbers.
5:17 AM
Turning your head, Jimin lifted his face from your own to allow you room to move, shooting you a sleepy smile you could barely see in the darkness of your room.
“Good morning, pretty.” He crooned, making you snort back a laugh as you raised your eyebrows at his charm.
“You can’t even see me, Chim. I look like a goblin right now.”
Throwing his head back, he let out a laugh, a sound far too loud for 5am yet making you smile wide nonetheless. It was your favorite sound.
“You’re always pretty, Dove. Goblin hour and all.”
The fondness gleaming in his eye as he spoke had your cheeks heating in an instant, brushing it off with a determined hand on his shoulder to flip him onto his back.
The man giggled as he tumbled back into the mattress, wrapping his fingers around your wrist with a soft squeeze. Swinging a leg around his hip, you followed his encouraging movement, grinning when he instinctively steadied your hips as you lowered your chest to lay on him.
“You’re prettiest.” Cupping his face in your palms, you planted kisses over his cheeks, chin, forehead, and all down his nose, savoring the feeling of his soft skin beneath your lips and the happy giggles erupting from the man’s chest at both your praise and your touch.
Reaching up to guide the back of your head, Jimin slotted his lips to yours in a sweet embrace, mouths melding together in a messy clash of teeth and tongue as you both exchanged laughter.
Pulling away, you brought a hand up to Jimin’s head, smoothing his dark hair down flush to his head, giggling at the dorky hairstyle you successfully gave him.
Jimin grinned at the sound of your amusement, brushing the tip of his nose against yours affectionately. Casting his eyes over to the rapidly changing clock, he let out a sigh before turning his head back to focus instead on you.
“Can’t we just stay like this forever?” He murmured, lips pursing against your own with a soft pucker, curving upward as you dipped down for another kiss.
related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon!Jimin
Continuation of Second Act: Temperance
A/N: IT’S HERE!! AHHHHHH TT-TT This chapter, we’re finally heading to the concert! :O what other sorts of things can possibly happen here...? 👀 👀 LOLL As always, thank you so much for all of you guy’s patience and the endless love and support i’ve been getting through your asks! I really truly appreciate you all for sticking it out for this story!! 💖💖💖🥺🥺🥺 As always, I hope you enjoy!
“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” A hushed voice along with a gentle nudge stirs you from your half-slumbering stupor. Blinking, you sluggish look around, mind beginning to catch you up on where you are and what’s happening as you hear the car doors open. It takes a minute but you eventually get your butt into gear, taking off your seatbelt and exiting the car as well to round to the back where your friend, Rosa, and the Uber driver were unloading your luggages.
You hastily make to grab yours, the last of it and place it onto the four wheels before pulling up the handle.
“Thank you so much for the drive.” Rosa thanks the driver, a fairly elderly man who’s been nothing but sweet and accommodating to the both of you despite it being nearly the ass crack of dawn.
“It’s not a problem. You two have fun on your trip; take care and be careful okay? There’s been too many horrible stories about young women traveling alone lately.” He says it kindly, almost like a grandfather to their granddaughters and even though you’re so tired, you can’t help but to smile in return.
“We will sir. You take care driving out there too.”
He nods before waving you two off as you and your friend shuffle onto the island. When he pulls away from the curb, you hear your friend take a deep breath in before exhaling. Turning to her, you catch her eyes and she grins at you, white teeth peeking out past the tops of the neck pillow she has on.
“It’s really happening.” She says, a little breathless — nervous yet excited.
You nod, her giddiness, although self-contained (you had a feeling it was because it’s so early and she’s mindful to the people who aren’t as awake yet i.e. you), is still contagious, the smile on your own lips stretching a bit wider.
You both head on inside, rolling your luggages along until you come upon the many self-checkin kiosks placed in the large terminal. The process was thankfully made easy with no need to send anything off; the trip was short and thus, Rosa and you have settled on just having one carry-on case and a crossbody handbag (or in Rosa’s case, backpack) each. With that done in no time, the next thing on the list was finding your correct gate, go through security and then finding the nearest Starbucks to ingest as much coffee as your body will allow you to.
Contrary to Jimin’s advice on getting as much rest as you can, you felt like you hardly got any sleep at all. Your restlessness was caused by many things — nerves from flying out for the first time with a friend, navigating your way through a city you’ve never been to until now, the excitement of not missing out on seeing a BTS concert when you were so sure you wouldn’t be going, it all felt so surreal to you, even as you’re strolling through the airport amongst many other people who bustle along with you, either arriving from a flight or off to catch one like yourselves.
But rising above everything, like a tumultuous wave ready to crash down on you, was your guardian demon. It should be no surprise really as it seems he’s constantly occupying your thoughts nowadays, a permanent resident and not paying rent though you think this time around, you can forgive it. The worry you have for him had remained firmly in the back of your mind, festering and growing until it too, joined in with the other thoughts keeping you tossing and turning that night.
Jimin told you that he would be meet you at the gate in spite of just coming out of a two-day coma from a near death experience; something that you can’t process at all. Even though he’s reassured you that he would heal in time, the very thought of the slight chance he could be putting up a front didn’t sit well with you, made worse that it’s more likely than not. Before you know it, the anxiety is eating at you and already, you’ve caught yourself doing double-takes for the fifth time, mistaking someone else for him. It’s embarrassingly made you prone to spacing out, so much that an officer at one point had to nudge you along because you were holding up the line during the screening process.
Thankfully, you make it through without further incident (though your cheeks are red and you kinda want to curl up in a corner somewhere but that would probably get you sent to an interrogating room under suspicious behaviour).
“Oh hey, I see our gate.” Rosa’s voice breaks through your thoughts, forcing you to take in the overhanging sign indicating that and the fairly empty seating area. Beyond the large windows overlooking the runway, the sky is still dark, the barest soft orange hues peeking through along the horizon. You’re about an hour and a half early for your flight, glad that the ample time you’ve given yourself arriving to the airport was used well because you weren’t in a panicked rush in finding your gate and risk missing your flight. Furthermore, you now have the leisure to do the next thing on your list — finding some food and caffeine.
“I think most of the cafes and other eating places are just a little further down that way.” Rosa comments, stretching her neck to peer down the long pathway before turning back to you. “Do you want to stay here and I’ll go grab us something or…?”
You smile, shaking your head. “No I’ll come with. I think I need to keep moving around to stay awake at this point.”
You choose to leave out the fact that you’re also feeling a little too fidgety, your anxiety not allowing you to stay put.
So the both of you wander further down the terminal, taking advantage of the moving walkways when they come and eventually come across the duty free stores, some luxury brand boutiques, and of course, the cafes and eateries. There’s a decent amount of foot traffic here despite the early hours, though you suppose you shouldn’t really be surprised — the airport only ever gets busier so to some, this might be considered ‘quiet’.
“Which place? Starbucks, A&W’s… I see Second Cup too. Is that a Mcdonald’s?” Rosa lists out loud before audibly gasping at the prospect of seeing the faint traces of the trademark ‘M’. You squint your eyes too, trying to make out if it was indeed your potential elixir of life and can’t help the snort that escapes you.
“It’s a McCafe, which is close enough so let’s go.”
Rosa giggles, falling into step beside you as you both make your way over. Fifteen minutes later, you’ve got a muffin and a medium ice coffee in hand. The shock of the cold drink in your system has you feeling more alert but the effect doesn’t last long nor does the caffeine (you swear it’s actually making you sleepier). You walk around for a while longer, looking at things you can’t afford and nibbling on your chocolate muffin before you lose your appetite halfway eating through the top half. Stuffing the remaining into your crossbody, you continue to follow after Rosa, your conversations kept light by the underlying buzz for your upcoming travels and yet you feel like you’re not all really there yourself.
“Hey, Y/N….Y/N?”
“O-Oh! Yeah sorry?” Your gaze snaps back to Rosa, unaware that you had become lost in watching people pass by the shop you and Rosa were in.
Your friend chuckles, giving you a wry smile. “You were spacing out hard fam. I think you need to take a nap.”
“Hey, have pity on me. I am not a fully functioning human-being any time before 12PM, at most.” You reply defensively in half truth. In the end, it’s decided that you should both head back to your gate to wait out the rest of your time there. The seating area has become fuller when you arrive, at least in terms of an early flight which thankfully means you still have no trouble in finding a place by an outlet to hunker down until your boarding time an hour later.
You practically sink into your seat, the exhaustion encompassing you like the flannel blanket you should’ve brought along with you just as a yawn threatens to tear your mouth open.
“Oh my God, we need to board soon before I just pass out right here and miss the flight entirely.” You say around it, stretching your arms before you cross them to get comfortable.
“For real, but luckily you have me to haul your ass onto the plane. It shouldn’t be too long now…” Your friend remarks, taking the seat beside you. She peers out at the runway, the sun already rising and daybreak beginning to light the sky an azure blue but even that isn’t enough to pull you from teetering over the edge of sleep again. You fall into companionable silence, Rosa occupying herself with her phone while you begin to drift in and out of a haze, a confusing seesaw between staying awake and drifting off. You don’t notice how the time pass as when you’re nudged gently on the side, you find your friend grinning at you like a Cheshire Cat.
“We’re twenty minutes from boarding fam! Watch my stuff for a second while I go use the washroom? I don’t want to have to go while we’re 5000ft off the ground.”
Your astounded expression pulls a laugh from her, no doubt picking up on your lack of time awareness but nonetheless, you smile with a nod, voicing your own desire to probably do the same after she’s back so please hurry, the ice coffee needs to be drained from your bladder too. She takes off in a brisk walk, beelining straight to the overhanging sign indicating the facility and make to stretch out your arms and crack your stiff joints. Lifting your gaze, you scan the sitting area, noting the few people sitting ahead of you with their heads buried in their phones or other electronic devices, some having taken up the seat facing the large windows, and there are even those looking like they’ve spent the night here as they lay curled up on multiple seats, oblivious to the world around them as they rest.
You wish you could be like that, but you’re plagued with a restlessness you can’t drown out no matter how hard you try. You breathe a heavy sigh, shoulders heaving as you think how even though your flight is a fairly short one, you get the feeling that it’ll be twice as long in your mind and that’s something you’re not looking forward to.
“Maybe I should’ve grabbed a pack of Xanax or something….” You grumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes with your hands.
“I don’t think you’ve got the health insurance to cover that sweetheart.”
You jumpstart in your seat, nearly jostling both yours and Rosa’s carry-on luggage over as you whip your head to the side. Your gaze catches the back of his head, and you wouldn’t have known any better had it not been for the unmistakable smooth lilt of his voice. He’s sitting on the other side of the bench from you, back to back, one seat to your left so when you twist just slightly, you would’ve caught sight of his side profile. To your dismay and surprise though, the lower half of his face is hidden by a black surgical mask, the rest by his black ball cap.
“Ji—!“
“Eyes forward cherub, don’t want to draw attention.”
Your mouth snaps shut, heat warming your cheeks when you realize how much of your elation at seeing him came through your voice. You heed his advice, partly because he’s right but also to hide your struggles in fighting off the wide smile threatening to break out on your face. Plus, this way it feels like you’re suddenly in a spy movie, meeting up with a contact incognito.
“Could’ve sent me a text to let me know you were here…” You say afterwards.
“I could’ve, but where’s the fun in that?”
You scoff quietly, rolling your eyes at his playful gibe but you’re not bothered by it at all. You’re glad Jimin’s here, his presence having some sort of immediate effect on you and your previous uneasiness, which now, has calmed to something manageable, like the invisible shadow following you has disappeared and you no longer have to keep looking over your shoulder to make sure it doesn’t sneak up on you. You finally have breathing room however, there’s still something that lingers persistently.
“So…H-How are you feeling…?” Your question comes out far softer, more hesitant than you had intended and you bite your lip. There’s a drawn pause, one that felt too long for you and makes you all too aware of the heavy pounding of your heart. Unconsciously your fingers begin to tug at the ends of your loose cardigan sleeves, nervous all of a sudden and just when you open your mouth to fill in the void, Jimin replies.
“Do you really have that little trust in me cherub? I’m kinda hurt…”
“N-No! What I meant was—!”
“Relax I know, I was just pulling your leg.”
A huff of air leaves you, a little on the exasperated side as you’re frozen midway in fully turning to face Jimin, subtly be damned (you think you’d never make for a good spy anyways). You know he’s trying to reassure you and it would’ve worked had you not picked up on the way he downplays the seriousness of the question, deflecting with humour and banter. He’s clearly intent on not worrying you so much but it only serves to do the opposite. It makes you want to turn around to gauge his expression, see for yourself if he’s really okay.
“Hey,”
The call of his voice tears you from your train of thoughts, head naturally turning towards him and you’re a little surprised to see dark obsidian eyes staring back at you. You’re lost in their depths, how they hold you captive in a gentle but firm way and instantly it’s like the whole world melts away and it’s just the two of you. Then, they turn up slightly at the corner in a way where you can already imagine the soft smile he has on beneath the mask, it sends your heart racing once again as you wait with almost bated breath for what he has to say.
“I’m okay, really. I promised I would be didn’t I?”
Your teeth pulls at your bottom lip, eyes darting off for a second before they come back to his. You take him in as much as you can, searching for anything that might give way to his front but it’s either he’s concealed it so well that you can’t tell or maybe perhaps he really is okay like he says. Jimin was already a hard person to read, but with that face mask on, it’s even harder.
You sigh, relinquishing.
“Then…Can you also promise me you won’t push yourself?”
His eyes crinkle a bit more but you’re determined to remain steadfast in your conviction. Jimin sees it as he tilts his head before nodding in agreement.
“Okay, I’ll try not to.”
You shoot him a pointed look, one that makes him chuckle and raise a finger to tap on your nose, so quickly you didn’t get the chance to lean away. You blink, flinching back in a delayed reaction but cheeks warming just the same.
“Will it convince you if I told you I’m not going to teleport there and that I’ll actually be on the flight with you?”
That makes you straighten up, eyebrows shooting into your hairline.
“You are?”
“Well, I figured it’s the best solution to the two problems we have; I don’t have to strain myself like you said and we’ll be in close proximity to each other, enough that in case anything goes wrong, I can step in without any issues.”
You nod, seeing his point and honestly even asking yourself why you hadn’t thought of that before until you furrow your brows, zeroing in on him again.
“Wait, you haven’t been recognized yet have you?”
“Of course not, I got this on for a reason.” He gestures to his face, indicating the face mask and baseball cap but that only makes you cock your head back, chin tucking in with an extremely dubious look scrunching your face. There’s absolutely no way this ‘disguise’ of his worked, in fact, he’s playing right into the ‘obviously-a-K-Pop-idol-leaving-for-a-flight’ airport look. It makes you cast shifty eyes around you suddenly — maybe you should actually turn around and pretend you’re in a spy movie again.
“Jimin that’s hardly a disguise! And you can’t tell me you haven’t taken it off at least once to do airport security checks. Are you using your cloaking spell right now? Don’t tell me you are.” You resort to frantically whispering to him as you sink a little lower in your seat.
“I’m not right now, but I did use a couple of enthralling spells here and there, nothing too taxing though so relax. Just enough that I get by with no incidents.”
You suppose that’s as good as it’s gonna get with an answer so you choose to not pry any further. Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you let out one last sigh.
“Alright… Just stay out of trouble.”
“I should be telling you that.” He chides back, getting up with a stretch. Jimin reaches down to grab his denim jacket and black duffle bag (Louis Vuitton, you’re not surprised at this point anymore) sitting on the seat beside his. Your eyes can’t help doing a full sweep of his figure; fitted black t-shirt tucked into dark wash jeans, held by a belt cinched around his waist. You feel like a troll next to him in your sweats and oversized t-shirt (that you double up as a sleep shirt too, you literally just threw on a bra before you left that morning).
“Where are you seated?” You ask after getting over Jimin’s unfaltering immaculateness (you swear the apocalypse could be happening and he would still be dressed in designer brands).
“Business of course.”
You nearly choke.
“B-Business…?!”
“Ah, I should really try to snag another cocktail at the lounge before we start boarding soon.” He says offhandedly, dark eyes drifting off in thought and then redirects them to you. “I’ll be in touch cherub, even if you might not see me. Still, stick with your friend and don’t have too much fun now you hear?”
He’s striding off with a finger wave salute before you can get another word in, but not like you can you think, absolutely stunned speechless. You don’t even notice your friend making her way back to you, just as the attendant at the front desk to your gate announces pleasantly that you would all be boarding soon and can those with special needs, young children and the elderly begin to line up to board first.
“Hey, what’s up? You look…kinda pissed? More alive but pissed.” Rosa laughs good-naturedly. “Some bastard try to pull a fast one on you?”
You exhale a wheeze because she’s not too far off with that statement so you don’t necessarily deny it, almost ruefully replying, “Yeah…I guess you could say that…”
She lets out another laugh, grabbing your hand to tug you out of your seat when the attendant calls for your section to begin lining up. As you gather your things and begin to make your way, you ironically think that your friend wouldn’t be laughing if she had known she, and by way you, have been robbed first class seats.
Oh well, you think, you can’t be too mad because as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. And besides, you have a lot to be thankful for in that moment and you’re not just talking about the round trip to seeing your favourite band play. So with a little more pep in your step since you first arrived to the airport, you eagerly board the plane.
-
What you had planned was to use the flight time to catch up on as much rest as you can before landing where you know it’s going to be a whirlwind of hopping from one place to another.
Unfortunately for you, your ice coffee kicks in despite having emptied your bladder only fifteen minutes into the flight. You significantly feel more alert so your attempts at getting comfortable against the window were futile. Even when you shut your eyes, you’re very much still conscious and aware of everything going on around you, especially the loud droning of the plane’s engine. You don’t know how people get used to it, let alone make it as part of their white noise to help them sleep.
What you do know is that it’s not easy as after a few more minutes of shuffling in your seat, you give up on any hopes of getting any decent sleep and instead, settle for just closing your eyes, earphones on with your old iPod touch cycling through BTS albums — might as well drown out the plane engine with some good music.
You zone in and out for the entire four and a half hour, which felt like it went by in a snap because next thing you know, you’re startled by the chime of the PA going off.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking, we are about ten minutes away from landing and — …”
You pull off your earphones, winding the cord to tuck your iPod away into your crossbody as you gaze out of the window, watching the clouds drift like oversized cotton candy through the clear blue sky, sun blazing on overhead. You’re glad that it seems like the weather would be perfect for the concert, which means there won’t be any pains in traveling around by foot. Bonus is that sunnier weather always puts you in a better mood.
Rosa seems to share the same sentiment because when you turn over to her, she’s staring out the window too, eyes practically sparkling and way perkier now that she doesn’t have to hold back. She grabs your arm, giving it a squeeze, silently conveying her excitement and you grin back at her, wiggling a bit in your seat as you both eagerly watch the wing of the plane dip, swooping down lower until it breaches the sea of white below and you get your first glimpse of the city.
You land without a hitch, even having some passengers clapping much to your amusement but in general, the lively buzz just adds to the atmosphere. You gather your belongings, double checking to make sure nothing is left behind as you wait to join the queue in the aisle to exit the plane. “So it’s close to eleven-thirty right now, which gives us a good amount of time before doors open to let us into the stadium. Should we find our hotel to drop off our things and then go find something to eat? Or should we drop off our things, head to the venue and then see if we can find a place to eat near there?” Rosa asks, tapping her phone so that the airplane mode is turned off.
You contemplate, humming before you say, “How hungry are you? Because I don’t really have an appetite right now but if you want to eat after we drop off our things first, we can do that.”
“Oh, I’m pretty good too so we drop off our things, head to the venue, then eat?”
“Yeah, sounds good to me!”
After struggling to get both of your carry-ons down from the compartment without giving yourselves a head injury (luckily your seat neighbours were kind enough to lend you a hand), you and Rosa wheel off out of the plane, down into the ramp. For a split second, you catch yourself glancing back one last time, eyes searching for that familiar shadow but the pace in which the masses move easily sweeps you up, not allowing you to linger for too long less you want to hold up traffic. However, you recall his words, assuring you that even if you might not actually see him, he’ll be close by to still be able to help you out if you need it. So you continue on, exiting out into a terminal in no time thanks to bypassing the need to go to baggage claims, telling yourself that everything’s fine and there’s no reason to fret.
You’re here to see BTS damn it; your faves, your ultimate and you can’t waste this golden opportunity by overthinking on things.
“Okaaay…” Rosa starts, not unlike a ranger about to take their scouts on a rigorous hike while teaching them survival skills. “Let’s grab an Uber and head on over to the hotel. You have the address right?”
“Oh, yes!” You quickly pull out your own phone, pulling up the text file as Rosa opens the Uber app on her phone. She’s typing the address into the destination bar when you hear someone call out to you.
“Um, excuse me?”
You and Rosa both look up, wide eyed like rabbits caught out in the open and turn to see two other girls staring back at you, no older than you are but what caught your attention immediately was the firefighter red cushion that’s shaped like a heart clutched in one of their arms, only this heart had a funny little face on it — two beady eyes, straight brows and round, yellow plush lips. A familiar face.
Tata.
Your eyes light up, you hear Rosa gasp softly beside you and in an instant, the mood shifts. You’re no longer confused from not recognizing the pair, instead it’s like running into old friends again if the way they smiled back just as widely was anything to go by, a knowing look on their faces.
“Are you..—?”
“ARMY?”
“YES!”
“YES!!”
You barely stop yourself from escalating in volume but your newly formed group had already drawn a couple of judgemental looks in your directions. Cheeks warming yet pleasantly aching from the grin, you wave frantically in an attempt to quiet the excited chattering that has exploded, your initial task forgotten in favour of acquainting yourselves with your new found friends, comrades gathered here for a common purpose and love for one particular group.
Rosa lets out a surprise squeak before falling into more of a hush, a sheepish smile playing on her lips and everyone sort of follows suit, still giggling.
“Oh my God this is so wild!” One of the girls laughs, “Are you guys staying somewhere close by the venue?”
“Yeah, actually we were just about to grab an Uber to head over there.” Rosa replies, flashing her phone with the app still open but address only half completed.
“AirBnb or did you somehow grab a hotel?” The other asks you, adjusting her backpack and making a few keychains jingle. You get a flash of a Cooky enamel chain glinting in the light.
“Yeah we’re staying at this hotel.” You showed them the official website page and she gasps.
“Wow! You’re lucky, that’s so close to the venue! Literally everywhere I go I keep hearing how everywhere is fully booked, even the AirBnbs around the area.”
“Where are you guys staying?” Rosa asks, after she’s copied down the address from you.
“We got an AirBnb that’s a little bit further away from the venue, like a ten minute drive? Not so bad but we’d definitely need to Uber to and back.”
You make a sound of understanding, picking up on the implication that it’ll be more money spent but that’s just what comes with these things. However, an idea comes to you.
“Hey,” You speak up, getting the attention of the party, “We can… split rides for Uber to your place if you want to? I mean, we’re all heading out anyways so we might as well right? I think it’ll be cheaper that way too.”
Rosa nods at your proposal, jumping in to add, “Yeah! Uber has a feature for that, I can definitely set up a second trip.”
The two girls glance at each other in a wordless act of debate, shortly reaching an agreement of sorts when one of them shyly turns back to you and Rosa with a timid smile.
“If you don’t mind? That would be really great actually.”
“Of course not! Save money when you can right?” Rosa says exuberantly, dispelling any remaining doubts to the two as their smiles widen again. So with a few taps, you make the necessary adjustments to your ride and now you’re all heading out to meet your driver in a merry band of four.
During your wait, you finally realize you haven’t made any formal introductions to each other (which, upon bringing it up, causes a round of laughter) but at least now, they know yours and Rosa’s names and you know them as Sam and Megan. Conversation flowed easily between the four of you, quickly getting acquainted with each other and by the time you and Rosa are getting dropped off first at the hotel, you’ve all followed each other on Twitter, Instagram and gotten everyone’s backstory on becoming fans of BTS (and of course, biases and bias wreckers).
“Hey, hey I got this, don’t worry!” Rosa says, trying to bat away Sam who had stepped out of the car as well to help you unload your carry-ons in the trunk. Megan follows suit after placing her Tata cushion and duffle bag in the backseat.
“No! This is the least we can do for sharing the ride!”
“It’s not even that heavy, it’s okay!”
Everyone fusses until it eventually turns into a group effort, even if what Rosa said was true. It makes you all giggle in the end at how silly it is but no one seems to mind.
“Thank you so much for the ride again! We should try to meet up at the venue!” Megan suggests to all of which you nod in agreement.
“Yeah! We’ll be in touch then since we have each other’s handles.” You smile back as Rosa closes the trunk. You go to shuffle onto the sidewalk, ready to see the other two girls off when Sam, wide eyed, suddenly lets out a loud gasp.
“Oh! I almost forgot!” She says quickly, darting into the back seat to grab her backpack to rummage through it, you and Rosa watch on curiously. After a short while, she triumphantly pulls out two baggies and already you see the goodies in them — self-printed photo cards of a member, fan art stickers, post cards, and a handmade purple bracelet. What’s more is that she hands them to you and Rosa, making you and Rosa squeal simultaneously.
“I’m handing these out at the venue and I wouldn’t want to run out before seeing you guys again.”
Immediately, you’re thanking her profusely and after another round of bidding each other later, you and Rosa head inside to the lobby of the hotel. It’s nothing fancy to be of note, but thankfully, it’s not sketchy either. The interior is quite simple yet spacious, the decor all in warm tones that matches the lighting, the accents emphasize on a deep mahogany wood. Off to the side, closest to the windows overlooking out onto the streets, is the lounge, the only area where it’s carpeted while the rest of the hotel is tiled, curtains drawn up and out of the way with an array of long couches and chairs surrounding coffee tables. The flat screen tv hanging on a single panel of wall space that perfectly divides the windows in half is set to a local news channel, displaying the weather and traffic around the city.
You and Rosa roll your carry-on towards the front desk, standing behind a few people ahead of you. It’s actually quite busy with lots of people coming in and out or taking up space in the lounge but all of it doesn’t surprise you because you have a sneaking suspicion as to why. Almost on cue, the group at the front begins to walk away, keycards in hand and bags full of BTS merchandise hanging off or stuck to their travel cases. Rosa nudges you but you’re already nodding with a grin on your face to show that you’ve noticed.
Checking-in was an easy process, what with both you and Rosa only needing one room with two beds to share. So you scurry off to the fifth floor, locating room 517 and as soon as you get the keycard on the door, you fling it open, rushing into the room with a bounce.
“Lemme change my outfit real quick! I feel like a slob and I can’t be looking like this in front of my boys!” You gasp, throwing your case onto the ground to open it.
“Oh shit you’re right. I need to put on liner or something! Can’t show my face like this to Jin.” Rosa says, doing the same with her carry-on case to pull out her little make-up pouch.
You grab your change of clothes, rushing to the bathroom and it felt like you were doing a quick change routine by how fast you managed to switch out everything. Looking in the mirror, you can’t help the grin on your face as you check yourself over. You’re wearing a black t-shirt with BTS’ logo taking up most of the front of the shirt while on the back lists all the members names in white text. It’s an old shirt, unofficial merchandise too but you’ve worn it the previous time you were lucky enough to go to their concert so you feel like it’s only right to bring it out again. After deliberating on a French tuck or a full on tuck, you decide to go with the latter, stuffing the ends into your distressed skinny jeans.
Satisfied, you step out to find Rosa already decked out in her concert gear that includes an RJ shirt over black cargo pants and RJ headband. She’s carefully applying lipgloss in the vanity and it prompts you to grab your own make-up bag until the both of you are crowding around another for the mirror. Once you’re done applying liner, some lip tint and other touch ups, you turn to Rosa.
“‘Kay, I’m good to go!”
She turns to you with a grin, grabbing both of your light sticks that’s set out on the bed, presenting it to you like it’s an Oscar. You can’t help letting out a boisterous laugh but take it from her anyways.
“Let's get it!”
You grab your bag, emptying out the things you wouldn’t need and leaving only your wallet, cellphone, charger bank, and keycard in. Stepping out, you make sure the door locks itself properly before you and Rosa start heading towards the elevators. “So the venue is like… a ten minute walk from here, do you want to Uber it or walk?” You point out, pulling up Google maps as a reference.
“I’m good for walking because we’ll make it five if we power walk.”
Turns out, she’s right. Apparently Rosa’s enthusiasm sparks to double yours which you’ve completely underestimated because before you know it, you’re walking alongside other concert goers and then you see the first of the banners and then…
“Oh my God…” Rosa whispers beside you, absolutely vibrating but you nod, sharing the same sentiment.
There are banners with each members faces on it hanging from the flagpoles lining the walkway towards the stadium. Around on the grounds, there are canopies of tents selling official concert merchandise, light sticks and a giant wall poster with BTS at the centre, dressed to impress as always, giving the fans the opportunity to take a commemorative photo. It’s like a little marketplace for the fans — there’s so much to look at and so much to take in that it makes your heart pound but along with that, there are lines.
Oh the lines.
You gulp just looking at all the different lines leading to different activities and booths, how they seem to stretch for miles and miles, twisting and curving like one giant serpent. You can’t even begin to imagine how early some people must’ve arrived here in order to be the first twenty in line. Honestly, it makes you sweat a little, but somehow, you’re determined to embrace this madness, swept up by the hype and the fact that you may never get this chance again.
“Okay, what do we do first?” Rosa asks, “I’m really not about to try for that merch line but I really wanna do the photo booth. We didn’t get to do it last time right?”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking too.”
“Okay! Photo booth line!”
So without a second thought, you and Rosa speed on over to the set up, racing to find the back of the line. You find it curving halfway around one of the buildings that was a washroom with vending machines posted out at the front. Once you made it, you and Rosa buckle down and play the hardest game known to any fan — the waiting game.
It wasn’t so bad you think, you and Rosa basically spent time catching up on things you didn’t get to talk about in the early morning, talk about which songs you’re looking forward to see live and even getting interrupted every once in a while by kind fans handing out freebies. Time is lost amongst the shared laughter, swept away in the electrified thrum of other people’s combined energy and you soak it all in, loving the feeling even if your cheeks ache from having smiled and laughed so much. You shuffle and move along with the line, at times, zoning in and out or simply watch what’s going on around you (you think it’s amusing how every time the venue staff would announce a round of items that were sold out, the awaiting crowd would groan or yell in anguish altogether; it resonates with your soul).
Soon, you find yourself within the winding barricade part of the line, thirty people deep and close enough to hear the squeals and squawks people are making when they first enter the photo booth.
“I’m totally gonna be like them when I go in, just completely lose my shit at holographic Jin.” Rosa points out, grinning.
“I’m just so excited to finally do it! It’s just too bad we can’t get any merch but at the same time, I’m pretty much too broke to afford anything.” You reply. Rosa nods solemnly in agreement.
Another half hour later, you’re finally at the front, waiting for your turn and you’re absolutely besides yourself, rocking on your heels to try to restrain from combusting. It’s hard to do because Rosa is bouncing in her spot which makes the monitoring staff giggle. You shy away a little, even though you know they’re probably used to it by now but your embarrassment doesn’t last long when two of the three booths become free and you’re given the go ahead along with Rosa. You’re laughing all the way in from hearing Rosa’s gradually fading scream.
Drawing back the curtains, you enter in the little room, brick red in colour with one ottoman bench fit for two people. On the wall in front is a touch screen with seven squares, each displaying a members face on it and all you have to do now is choose who you want a digital picture with.
Your finger moves as if on its own, right towards —
You stop.
It takes a second for you to realize where they hover, a hair’s breadth from his picture.
Jimin.
No…Not him. Not…
You shake your head, ridding the thought and this odd feeling that overcomes you in that second. You chalk it up as it finally hitting you how all of it seems so bizarre that you’re here to see BTS’ Jimin when all this time you had a literal clone of him manifested as a demon meant to protect you. It’s tripping you out, which is why it takes you a hot minute to get your head in the game, so to speak.
This is BTS’ Jimin — vocalist, dancer, model idol and member of BTS, the biggest boy group in the world right now. Park, nation’s angel/fairy, Jimin.
Totally different.
You repeat the words in your head like a mantra, convincing yourself before breathing in deeply. Then you press the icon, submit yes and watch with a rapidly beating heart as a countdown begins, the screen switching to the live selfie camera and on one, Jimin appears as if entering the booth. Your eyes dart up to the space he should be instinctively but you quickly chastise yourself, drawing back to the screen in front of you as you hear him speak a few lines. Even as a digital hologram he’s breathtaking, soft honey blonde hair swept off his forehead and dressed in a black suit that fits him so well that it’s almost criminal. He strides to sit beside you and you reel a bit, quickly trying to orient yourself on the seat in the screen and his figure, barely catching a few words in Korean that initiated the first photo take.
The countdown begins and you get into position, smiling towards the screen but within those three seconds, you catch sight of yourself and him; the way he leans into you, a soft smile adorning his lips and in that moment, your heart squeezes and you falter as the camera shutter goes off.
You blink, stunned but you can’t stop to process the feeling so you push it back as Jimin prompts for a second photo, this time holding his hand to form half a heart which you’re meant to complete.
This is BTS’ Jimin.
You hastily follow, almost stubbornly so as again, the countdown begins and you force a smile, angling yourself to look half as flattering as Jimin.
This is BTS’ Jimin.
The shutter goes off again, he says a few more sweet words before he walks off screen and you’re left to choose between the two pictures you’d taken to have printed.
You grimace as you scan them over — neither one of them are satisfying to you.
-
“I think your photo looks cute!” Rosa exclaims, looking over yours before giving you a nudge on the shoulder with a teasing glint in her eyes. “You two look good together.”
You nudge her back, taking the photo from her and stuffing it into your crossbody. “Stop, before some sasaeng overhears.”
Rosa cackles loudly, throwing her head back. “Oh please, a bitch can try to run up on you or me. I will fight.”
That pulls a laugh out of you but somehow, you have no doubts about it. Clicking her phone, Rosa checks for the time and with a glance, you’re shocked to see that you’ve already spent a good three hours around the venue. And a chunk of it was just waiting in a line.
“‘Kay now should be a good time to grab something to eat.”
At the mention of food, your stomach gurgles and churns in response and you’re surprised it’s only then that you feel the ache of not having eaten anything sufficient since six in the morning.
“Yeah, I’m starting to feel it now. Where should we go?”
Rosa hums, straining to look around as you come to the borders of the stadium grounds. She turns her head from one side of the street to the other and you follow her, spying a few familiar fast food chains by their company colours.
“I think we should grab something that we can take on the go, it’ll be easier in case we spontaneously decide to jump in a line again.”
You snort, not arguing with the idea but the thought of getting into another lineup is…. You’re gonna have to think on that after eating a sandwich or something. Your head cocks a little at that.
“How about a sandwich then? That’s pretty easy to carry around, and filling too.”
Your friend considers the idea and then nods, “Yeah, I can do that.”
It wasn’t hard to find a place that would meet your requirements of a delectable sandwich as the concert venue was situated very closely to the downtown parts of the city. It was only a matter of how far you’re both willing to walk, which is…not very far. You and Rosa both agreed that it would be in your best interests to stick around the venue because on your way to picking a spot, you chance your first look at the one lineup you and Rosa probably dreaded the most, outright feared.
“God is that—?”
“…Yeah….” The words come out short but heavily in a resigned sigh. Like with any other lines you’ve seen so far, this one stretches just as long with the only difference is that you can at least pinpoint exactly how and when it started. You easily spot the makeshift camp ground fans have created, tents of varying colours dotting along in the empty parking lot, peeking out from over the heads of those currently waiting in the queue for GA. Now your stomach churns uneasily for a different reason.
“Let’s hurry and get in before the line gets any longer!”
The both of you rush into action, entering the closest fast food establishment for the sake of not dallying but perhaps you think all in vain because it too was crowded with people, specifically other concert goers. At this point, there’s no escaping the wait anywhere and Rosa seems to realize too as she gives you a wry smile, moving to stand at the end of the formed line with you following suit. Another twenty minutes later, you and Rosa are dashing out, a bag in each hand containing your sandwiches, extra snacks and bottle of water. You’re out of breath when you finally reach the end of the line, ready to sit on the sidewalk and eat. To your pleasant surprise however, you find some familiar faces.
“Oh my God! Sam, Megan!” Rosa exclaims, wide eyed as the girls glance up from their phones respectively, wide smiles appearing on their faces when they see you and your friend. They envelope you in a hug each and you fall into conversations, all centred around what you’ve done so far in the venue, showing the pictures you took and freebies you got. It goes on for a while until you can’t stand it anymore and as politely as you could, informed that you must devour this sandwich now or else you would keel over. The first bite you took was nothing short of heavenly and it’s like a ravenous monster has been awakened because you think you downed it all in ten seconds flat.
Regardless, it does the job of filling your stomach with something so that it doesn’t end up eating itself but you somewhat had the thought before to try and portion it out, knowing you had a bit of a wait to get through before doors officially open. Within that time, you had also finished your bag of chips, sharing amongst the group and drank your fill of water. Hydration has always been the one thing everyone emphasizes the most when going to BTS’ concerts but you still struggle to find that balance between getting enough water and having too much water because who would want to have to go to the washroom in the middle of a concert? Plus, any water you don’t finish before security check you would have to throw away anyways.
You end up holding back on chugging your entire bottle, stopping when you felt like your bladder won’t explode any time soon but that means you’ll have to accept that the rest would be given to the trash.
Finally after some time, you’re startled from your stagnant position when the line ripples to life. You perk hearing the muffled bass of songs you’ve grown to love and know word for word despite the different language. Megan is the first to stand up, all of you at one point resorted to sitting right along the sidewalk edge, tip-toeing to see what the commotion was.
“I think doors are opening! The line looks like it’s moving now!”
The news has an immediate effect, the rest of you springing to your feet just as the people in front of you start shuffling forward. A surge of jitters tingles along your spine as you move along, inching closer and closer to the entrance. Not only does this mean you’ll be finally getting into the arena, but it also means that the concert is well on its way to starting soon. You catch yourself in time from bumping into the person in front of you when the line suddenly stops right on a bend. You think nothing if it until you hear murmurs of a commotion and see people actually leaving from their spots.
“What’s going on?” You ask, concerned.
“I think there’s a confusion between lines?” Sam answers, peering around the many bodies in front of you. You do the same, trying to worm your way through this broken telephone game until you hear someone raising their voice.
“Left side of this line is for GA!! This line is for seats!!”
“Ah shit!” Rosa curses, turning to Sam and Megan. “We gotta bounce then. Enjoy the show girls!”
“Bye!! You too! Now go, go!”
You wave hastily before Rosa is pulling your arm and you both go running to the newly formed line beside the one you were just in. You’ve made quite the jump, even if you are a bit aways still from seeing the front entrance. But it’s almost like it doesn’t matter because the line continues to move and before you know it, the doors are right in front of you.
“As soon as we get through the security gate, we’re booking it.” Rosa says, determined and fired up, even doing little stretches as if she’s getting ready to do a 100m sprint. You don’t argue with her though, chewing on your lower lip at thinking about how many people must already be in the pit, how your chances of getting a good spot is dwindling lower and lower with every people let in. Slowly, you grow more anxious and now you’re antsy to get your ass in ASAP because like hell, you’re going to be stuck with an awful view!
You swear it takes everything in you to remain as calm and collected on the outside as you can once it’s your turn for the security check. You present your crossbody, showing them the inside, dispose of the water bottle in the growing bin, pull up your ticket on your phone for verification and once you’ve given the all-clear—
“Go, go, go, go, go!” You take off, following the herd as your only means to finding the path to the concert pit, glancing over your shoulder to make sure Rosa is behind you (she is with a big goofy smile on her face). You hear the echoes of numerous excited voices bounce off the walls and they increase in volume, easily intermingled with instrumentals and growing clearer, more distinguishable as you approach. When you finally pass through the entryway, you feel your breath hitch.
The crowds are already gathered at the edges of the barricade, singing along to the music video being played on the large screens. Above and all around you, the seats are being filled by more fans, their light sticks twinkling to show their numbers. You rush to join in with everyone, coming to the space furthest left at the head of the stage, just a row or two behind others, brandishing your own light stick to switch on. With the app, you sync it up, right when Rosa joins you.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’RE HERE AHHHH!!” Rosa screams, waving her light stick crazily and falling into the fan chant. You laugh, not caring how loud you might be. You spend the next remaining minutes dancing, singing, and screaming, immersing yourself in the energy all around you. Rosa pulls you in for selfies, taking commemorative videos every once in a while. It helps pass the time and as the final notes of the music video fades out, the lights dim and the screams are louder than ever. All eyes are glued to the intro VCR, your heart’s pumping in your ears as you feel the rush of adrenaline increase. You’re blown away by the visuals and you can’t help but to scream whenever the sight of any of the members appear (and this is all before they’re on stage dear god).
The video fades to black, transitioning into a new track as the spotlights light up one by one to the beat until it swells into a climax as extravagant stage props are revealed and the pyrotechnics are going off. You truly lose all sense of inhibition when from the floor of the stage, seven figures emerge. You don’t know if you’re shaking from the force of your scream, the screams of a thousand people around you reaching a whole new level of pitch and intensity, or from the booming stereos that begin to blast their title track.
They were nothing short of incredible, you’re starstruck at how coordinated they were, all the while maintaining such stable vocals, not to mention look absolutely stunning in their stage outfits — sparkly black suits with varying gold accents that decorate their shoulders or as lapels, giving off very princely vibes. And you’re witnessing all of this with your own two pair of eyes. Never have you ever been this close to them before where you seldom rely on the big screen camera in front of you and you’re having trouble on where your eyes should be, so captivated by their aura and charisma.
So you find yourself screaming names left and right when you’re not shouting the fan chant. The first song comes to an end though it doesn’t mean that the energy doesn’t carry on as after a moment’s pause, the next song starts up, another hit single everyone recognizes and loves. When the lines of the first verse starts, the boys start making their way down the catwalk towards the thrust stage. As they move, so does the audience, all eager to keep their eyes on them no matter what. It’s hard to fight the wave so you can only go with it, forced to shift from your original spot to something a little less than favourable. You’re still too far up the main stage that the only thing you see is their backs and try as you might, half the time a phone is blocking your view.
It’s a struggle but you make do with the large screen and when there’s a song this hype playing, it’d be a crime to not do anything besides dance and cheer at the top of your lungs. And that’s what you love about their concerts; the moment you step into the arena it’s like you’re transported into another world, a place where you can let loose and for once be happy, blessed and thankful.
No more worries, no more what-ifs.
You’re going to seize this moment as if it’s your last.
When the song comes closer to the end, the members gradually make their way back to the main stage, waving to the crowd as they go and you swear Namjoon had returned your wave, dimpled smile on display. You can’t help the squeal that comes from your mouth.
When the last notes end, you finally turn to assess your surroundings, the crowd once more shifted but thankfully you spy Rosa not far from you so you maneuver yourself to her. She greets you ecstatically.
“DID YOU SEE JIN?! HE HAD PURPLE HAIR!! I’M GONNA DIE!!”
“I KNOW!! AND NAMJOON WAVED AT ME!!”
The two of you fangirl until the VCR is done and the melodies of another song bubbles over the speaker. Once more, the attention of everyone in the arena draws towards the main stage and from there, it starts all over.
You work up a sweat dancing and singing along to the songs, breathless in the best way possible. You were enjoying the concert through and through, the only issue you have was your throat beginning to burn a little more than usual from all your screaming and the sea of people you’re currently swimming in is getting a bit more pushier. But the night was still young and though you’ve been dancing nonstop for four song straight, there was nothing stopping you when the spotlights turn into a warm golden yellow, the ones along the ground turning green and the first notes of possibly your favourite song starts to play.
From the floor, Jimin’s figure rises up, voice as light as a feather filtering through the building and instantly, you’re entranced.
Before, you had been unsure of how you would react to seeing the original Jimin on stage, the apprehension nearly smothering you as you waited but like a spell, as soon you laid eyes on him, singing and dancing so gracefully, so effortlessly, you knew that this was someone else entirely different. Now dressed in a flowing silk shirt embroidered with crystals that twinkle endlessly in the spotlight, he has singlehandedly rendered you speechless as the rest of the thousands watching him. Your eyes were glued to him, heart swelling with emotions as you watch him in his element, nailing each step and note and like caught in a siren’s song, you itch to be closer. Scanning around, you try to find an opening you can squeeze through, anything.
You see a space, big enough for you to stand in and without even thinking twice you surge forward, weaving as best you can before the chance disappears. You bypass two people, grazing their shoulders but shrinking in on yourself pays off because your view is even better than ever. Now you’re a row away from the metal barricade and when you focus back on Jimin—
You’ve heard many times that photos don’t do any of the members justice, not even a fraction of how they look but being this up close, you think it’s the understatement of the century. You’re stunned, mind going blank like it has trouble processing the fact that there is a human being that exists in this world you’re living in that is beautiful beyond words and his name is Park Jimin and you’re currently staring at him, in person.
Being this up close, you can see the details of his movements, how every part of his body from the tips of his fingers to his toes is adding something to this choreograph to make it that much more fluid or powerful. You see the rings on his fingers glint as he brings it up to run it through honey blond hair, strands falling so delicately and softly against the thin sheen of sweat against his forehead, it has you mesmerized. And then you see the beginnings of a secret smile, one that starts in his eyes before stretching over his lips as he sings those sweet words. You don’t stop yourself from swooning loudly because you’re not the only one who’s affected. The song ends all too soon, Jimin backing away to be lowered down on the stage but not without throwing another smile out towards the audience, gaze so full of love for the people around him as he sings the last notes and you feel like you can finally breathe properly again.
You find yourself laughing, half in disbelief and giddiness, smile so wide thinking that that performance was closer to a spiritual experience more than anything.
BTS’ Jimin is truly something else.
So caught up in it all, you fail to notice that, at some point, you’ve lost your friend Rosa, only after when you turn your head, ready to gush about Jimin and finding that she’s no where to be seen. You had the mind to look, but it’s difficult for you less you want to lose your newly obtained good spot. Besides, the lights darkening makes it even harder to distinguish her. You leave it for now, as the next song starts up; if you can’t find her by the end of the concert, you can always call her. With that settled, you return your attention back to the next member performing.
You’re thankful for the relatively slower songs, allowing you to the time to recover and more importantly, keep the crowd controlled to a rhythmic swaying. You hate to admit it, but you really wished you had bought another water bottle even if they did cost you an arm and a leg in the arena. Your throat aches uncomfortably, making swallowing hard even if it’s a knee jerk reaction in an attempt to quench your thirst. The most you can do now is refrain yourself by simply mouthing along to the lyrics but it’s a lot easier said than done. You still catch yourself shouting the fan chants when the timing comes up even when you sound like a dying cat (but who says no to the Kim Namjoon?!)
Perhaps a poor decision on your part because then comes the medley.
You feel it in the crowd before the track even kicks in, like the tides pulling back in a telling sign that a tsunami would follow and you have no choice but to ride it, too deep into the sea of bodies to put up any sort of resistance. You’re forced to move as close to the thrust stage as possible, everyone trying desperately to grab the boys’ attention as they walk along the edges. It pushes you until you’re on the left side of the catwalk behind two rows of people now, much to your chagrin but you don’t linger on it long, too immersed in the heavy beats of the song that makes you dance with reckless abandon.
Your spurt of energy doesn’t last you long as you quickly tire, heart hammering as loud as the bass in your chest you feel like it would burst through your ribs, and what’s worse is that every ragged inhale and exhale of breath agitates your scratchy throat. The t-shirt you’re wearing is too damp for your liking, clinging to your skin and does nothing but add to the heat already surrounding you. You slow yourself down, fighting off a dizziness the overcomes you, like you’ve accidentally stood up too fast and your shoulder collides into someone. You get shoved back and though there wasn’t any real strength behind it, you stumble, barely catching yourself. You think a couple of toes have been stepped on but you think it’s collateral damage at this point, too preoccupied with trying not to succumb to this moment of weakness.
Breathe, relax, you’re fine!
You blink rapidly and as if out of sheer willpower, it begins to subside, the dark hazy border clouding your vision seeps away. You remain in your spot for a while longer, making sure that it goes away completely and once you’re sure, you focus back in on what’s happening. You’ve been moved way farther back into the crowd than you had thought, maybe about ten steps away from reaching one of the sides of the catwalk. You’re surrounded on all sides by jumping bodies, the high of the atmosphere showing no signs of stopping and with the boys still partying it up on the stage, it’s all it takes to pull you back in.
Literally nothing will stop you from seeing this concert to the end.
“Everybody say—!!” You think you hear Jungkook scream and you can’t help laughing but join in to the chorus of thousands of others singing along. The song tapers to a simple beat, the main instrumentals dying off a bit so that you could really hear the echoing voices and see the way members egg on the audience. It gradually builds again, you realize it’s a remix in place of the original song that seems even more hype than should be possible. It’s gearing up for a drop you know would have the whole arena lose their mind over as the boys travel back towards the main stage. You naturally follow the crowd, always vying to get a better view just as the music picks up and everyone starts jumping in place again.
You’re torn from trying to see the actual stage or the big screen, so keen on keeping your eyes on them until the song comes to an end. You’re out of breath once more, shoulders heaving in effort and the foggy feeling creeps back again. The stage lights dim until the only source of light you have is the big screen playing the next VCR. You distantly hear the dreamy soundtrack, a mere muffled sound against the ringing in your ears. You try desperately to make it pass, along with this dizzy spell and you shut your eyes in hopes of doing so.
It was meant to be for a moment; just like the first time it happened, you had expected for it to pass easily, only… it doesn't.
It’s like your body decided to shut down without notice, going numb before you even had a chance to fight it.
It all happened so fast.
When you become conscious again, you’re extremely disoriented, vaguely aware that you’re not where you thought you would be — on the ground, trampled with a concussion and causing a whole scene by having a team of on site paramedics surrounding you (and if you’re being honest, you’re thankful that it’s not the case because you would rather take the concussion, unconscious and all than having to see thousands of people and all the members of BTS remember you in that way).
Vision clearing a little more, you slowly start to piece the shapes and colours that come together until you recognize them as eyes…
You…You know those eyes….
Time seems to slow until you’re taken back to the night you first met eyes with a pair of crimson ones. You remember how vibrantly they gleam against the dark, burning so deeply into your soul that you had dared not breathe. Those eyes stared at you with an intensity that had frightened you from the power they hold, yet you learned that they can shine with mirth, twinkle impishly, soften in tenderness, become the moon and hold endless stars and galaxies that had you wanting to see more.
But now, they stare back at you, pupils shaking in an amalgamated storm of emotions so palpable you wonder if the stars had burnt out and the world was no more.
Distress.
Panic.
But above all, fear.
“Y/N….? Hey Y/N, can you hear me?”
You blink, rousing from your daze, the faint smell of lavender intermingling with burnt wood enveloping you like a warm blanket— a comforting and familiar scent. You turn to get a better look at the owner of this voice but all it does is throw you in for another loop.
Jimin is staring down at you, wide eyed in alarm. The black surgical mask he’s wearing is pushed down, revealing full lips parted in a way that can only be described as holding his breath, bracing for the worst. The hoodie he has pulled over his head makes it hard to get a good look at him, the orange cast of the light above almost intensifying the shadows over his face that it has you squinting, wanting to discern his features, wanting to confirm that it’s him but his voice alone should’ve been enough.
“Ji…Jimin…?” You wince at the croak you just let out, voice completely shot and sore but you need to know if this is real or not, still feeling so out of sorts. Gently, you’re being propped up into more of a sitting position and something touches the bottom of your lip.
“Drink…”
As soon as you get that first sip of the cool liquid, it’s like you come to life again, grasping at the bottle to gulp down more like you’ve spent the past hours in a desert rather than in a concert arena.
“Slow down cherub….”
A bit spills over, trickling down your chin but you don’t care, the feeling is welcomed against your hot skin. After having your fill, you pull away to take a deep breath, finding the strength to support yourself though you feel the solid arm behind you linger.
“Wha — What happened….Where..?” You mumble, bringing a hand to press to your forehead, to yourself or to him you’re not sure.
“You blacked out, probably from dehydration. I had to get you out before you got seriously hurt.”
“Out…?”
The word belatedly registers with you but when it does, your gaze whips around you, taking in your surroundings for the first time. You’re outside, on the side of the building that acts more like a back alley meant for delivery trucks and it’s secret employees-only side doors that more or less, lead to the dumpsters you see farther down the way. It’s dark out, the night air much cooler now and distantly, you hear the cheers and the thumping of the bass, the concert still going on.
The concert!
A gasp flies from your lips as you spring to your feet, so fast your world spins and you would’ve toppled over had it not been for a hand to steady your shoulders.
“Y/N! What are you— “
“I-I have to get back! The concert—!” You sputter, cutting yourself off from a cough that tears through you, making you duck into the crook of your elbow in hopes of quelling it. Your feet falter in trying to figure out which way you should go but that wasn’t the only thing holding you back.
“Wait, just hold on a second—!”
You’re tugging against his hold on your wrist, eyes watering from the force of your cough but all you hear is the waves of excited screaming and the start of a new song which rings more like the tolls of a bell signalling time is running out. You become more frantic and frustrated — at him, at yourself. All at once, these tumultuous thoughts surge forward, consuming you in their urgency; you’re blowing it, completely throwing this chance away, couldn’t even do this one thing right, why couldn’t you just hold out?
It was all a waste. You really don't deserve any of this.
“Let go of me! I need to—!”
“Y/N! STOP!”
You’re jerked back quite suddenly, firm hands taking hold of both your shoulders until you feel your back pressing into the rough brick wall of the building. Your mouth parts, a retaliation ready at the tip of your tongue but you’re cut off with a hard shake.
“Are you out of your mind right now?! What do you think you’re going to accomplish going back in there in your state?!”
“Can you just lay off?! I’m fine!”
“You can barely hold yourself up! I’m not letting you put yourself in danger!”
“I DON’T CARE!”
“Y/N LOOK AT ME!”
His voice snaps you out of your frenzy, the sheer volume of it able to pull you out of the spiralling decent into your own madness — you don’t think you’ve ever heard him shout before. The revelation makes you pause and it’s enough for you to finally become aware of what’s in front of you.
At some point, his hoodie had fallen off, letting you finally see him. He’s everything you had remembered seeing, still so utterly beautiful in that otherworldly way that it’s almost heartbreaking. Your mind can’t help but to replay those images of him on stage, so ethereal and mesmerizing until they shift, melting away altogether to what you see in front of you — raven locks replacing the honey blond, slightly more disheveled against his forehead, strands sticking to a light sheen of sweat that makes the bruising stand out more against paler skin, and stormy blue irises for a subdued scarlet, the faintest glow barely visible behind those eyes that look at you in such a pained way.
It’s a sobering sight, one that has your heart clenching.
This isn’t BTS’ Jimin.
No, he’s —
You’re slightly out of breath but you realize you both are, his exhales fanning warm against your lashes. You see Jimin’s eyes search yours, not really sure what he’s trying to find in them but you don’t want to know, too afraid of that answer. After a tense moment, he asks, a single question falling from his lips in a disquieted whisper that resonates above the cacophony that surrounds you, inside and out.
“Why….?”
Why…. It tumbles around in your head chaotically with no signs of reaching any conclusions, the thoughts disjointed and fragmented for your mind to even begin processing. It dredges up feelings you’ve unconsciously tried to bury, way more than you had imagined and it becomes too much for you to handle right now, much less put into words. But perhaps above everything, you can’t find it in you to face any of it.
You break eye contact first, turning away from the intensity that has you feeling more vulnerable than it should.
“I....You—….” You struggle to form the words past the trembling in your voice, hands balling into fists until they dig crescents into your palms, on the precipice of breaking down entirely from experiencing so many heightened emotions in one night that you just want it to end. “Forget it…Please, you— you wouldn’t understand….”
You don’t look up to see his expression, won’t dare to but you feel the way his hold tenses, going rigid until slowly, his fingers begin to slip away, touch barely brushing the tops of your forearm before they recoil completely. And then you feel his warmth leave you as he steps back, feet heavy and you miss the way the glow in his eyes extinguishes, leaving nothing more than an empty, dark abyss.
“You’re right…. I wouldn’t…” He rasps, the resignation palpable and your heart squeezes again without your permission. Your guardian demon doesn’t say anything more, the silence threatening to suffocate you but you’re moving before it has the chance to, pushing away from the wall even though your steps hesitate.
You feel like you should say something, guilty conscious tugging you to hold you in place, the words I’m sorry sitting on the back of your tongue but when you swallow, what comes out instead is, “I…should go…”
You run without looking back, ashamed.
A coward.
-
You find your way into the arena following the sounds of the cheering crowd, rising continuously in crescendos. You have no sense of how much time had passed, the lack in any distinguishable song playing makes you sprint and when you burst through the entrance, the entire place is bathed in violet and magenta as the white lights of people’s cellphones twinkle all around you like a sea of constellations in a galaxy.
“This is gonna be the last song for tonight, love you guys, let’s go.” Namjoon says, a bittersweet smile on his face as the music begins to play and everyone cries out again in recognition. You’re left bewildered, not wanting to believe that the concert is coming to a close already and after a brief moment of stunned silence, you force yourself to move, rejoining the crowd in the pit. You walk, wanting to immerse yourself again and finding a spot on the farthest side of the stage, closest to one of the big screens displaying the members. All around, people are singing along to the uplifting lyrics of the song and you do as well, but it’s like your body and mind are on autopilot, completely numb.
Your thoughts are running rampant inside, the fight still fresh no matter how much you’re trying to take everything in around you, commit them to memory before…
Before what?
Before you lose this small piece of happiness you’ve ever known? Or are you afraid of losing the feeling it brought you, when watching these seven amazing men who share their music that heals the hearts of so many no longer bring that sense of comfort and joy to you, but instead remind you of sad, distant memories full of unspoken words, yearning and regret.
You can almost feel it already happening.
The song comes to an end, continuing on in an instrumental loop as the members gather up to do one final bow at the thrust stage, hand in hand. Afterwards, they disperse, each taking their time to wave and interact with the fans from all corners of the stage before leaving through the lift at the main stage. You catch sight of Taehyung on the catwalk waving and gesturing cutely, Hoseok who’s eyes are glued to the far off seats, grin broad and waving enthusiastically to make sure that the fans there are not forgotten, Jin who makes a show of following the camera to blow kisses into it for everyone to see….
And then your eyes wander unconsciously, searching for him, for Jimin who’s ever the sweetheart, is running to the farthest left of the stage he can reach, right in front of where you’re standing to greet the fans there. He's radiant, a stunning smile stretching over his face so wide in a way that makes his eyes turn into crescents but you know no doubt that they sparkle in pure happiness as they look out to the fans, like he’s trying to memorize each and every face of the people who made all his dreams come true. Jimin waves to as many people as he can, blowing kisses here and there and occasionally gesturing to those to not cry and smile.
You watch on fondly, but your chest begins to ache uncontrollably in a way you don’t think is because he’s beginning to make his way back to centre stage, ready to leave. He walks languidly, like he’s trying to draw out as much time as he can while his eyes still remain focused out onto the fans and in that moment, he looks your way.
You’re not even sure if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you see him so clearly. With the softest smile gracing his lips, you lock eyes, his gaze so warm and adoring and as cliche as it sounded, the world slows and you see him mouth something that makes the breath catch in your throat.
I love you.
He reaches out a hand to wave one last time before he’s turning away, screaming those same words again into the microphone to let the whole arena know and with that, the boys are lowered down. The music fades, there’s a final huzzah as a massive lit up panel with the band’s logo rises up to take up centre stage and like a movie, the credits begin rolling on screen, signalling the official end of the concert. People around begin to disperse, intending on leaving to beat the rush of traffic while there are some who remain in their spots to watch the extra practice footage the boys took.
You are the latter, however your attention is not on the clips rolling, rather you are lost amidst a turmoil of emotions as your mind seems to be stuck on replaying that moment with Jimin. You’re not sure why, can’t understand the affect it has on you when logically you know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen something like it. It’s almost a bit absurd until you realize….
For the split second it happened, you had wished for raven hair and deep ruby eyes.
Intro - a story about a certain soft Hearten male geisha and a poor broken musician who battle through a journey in which they explore the world through their performances
genres - Slow burn, romance, comedy and angst
(A/N) - I’m really nervous about posting this so some feedback will be nice if you guys can.
!!ENJOY!!
part 2 part 3
(Not proofread)
The rain poured heavily against the mud-coated land, soaking up the earth's power as it relished in the tears of our sky. Everything was silent, too en captured in his silent moves to make even the faintest of noises, gliding across the hardwood floor as his robe flowed behind him like the waves on a calm summer day. He dragged the gaze of every female and male to his own graceful movements.
Jimin was the most voted man of a world full of geisha females and males, everyone loved him even so they loved his movements more. He controlled every movement precisely with a mysterious look gifting only the best with his smile.
He swayed his feet to every beat of the koto, the simplicity of his sways falling effortlessly off his proportioned figure. His movements showcased behind a layer of cloth showing his talents with a shadow.
Men in his field of work were only known to act out skits, erotic skits, and tell jokes while pleasing their guests with sake. But jimin pushed his way to the top gaining the approval of those who enjoyed his line of performance as a male(Otoko) geisha who danced for his watchers.
Watching him could only come once in a lifetime to many people, to the rich his presence was most known, to the poor he was kind enough to share his gifts with everyone, but as time went on the rich grew hungry and jimin could tell.
No longer feeling the need to perform he bowed carefully to his spectators, widening a gentle smile against his reddened lips, dawning a look of innocence across his features. Many people groaned as the performance came to an end but nonetheless cheered with all they had for the man representing the vanishing world.
The feeble man rushed in hurried steps from the performing stage, the performance was something he itched for. The adrenaline it gifted him with to showcase every single talent he had portraying the gifts he earned, feeling nothing but great when the cheers entered his ears. Being accepted for something he dreamed of doing as a child.
“Once again the beautiful geisha has gifted us with his presence. But sadly everyone’s journey comes to an end, he will no longer be staying here as another trip is heading his way.”The citizens shared a displeased look, wishing for another performance, oh how he wished to crawl back on that stage and perform for all eternity.
Jimin gathered his things from the tent he was placed in for the time being. He noticed a distressed look on his former retired geisha, a woman with integrity who raised him to be as he is now, she was once a special performer known by all of the countries for the sway of her incredible talents.
“It is raining my dear, and our way of going back to our Ryokan is running late” she scattered on her tiny feet, pacing around the small room in frustration the sky hasn’t cleared of it’s dry and the ground wasn’t prepared for walking on. No weather for an Otoko geisha to be running around in.
“It’s okay, I'm just going to look around the streets for a while,” he suggested. his former geisha shoot him a glare but soon softened her facials with ease not being able to resist the man planted in front of her “I expect you back when the streets begin to fill” she said sternly, jimin could only nod in reply smiling brightly with his Crescented eyes. Glancing with a respectful look to the woman who held his umbrella.
“I’ll be back” he reassured the older woman as he rushed out into the candlelit streets. The tears of the sky barely caressed his skin as the woman who stood behind him struggled to keep up with his fast-paced movements.
If she lost him now, nothing will go as planned and she will be returning to one angry woman.
“Jimin, y-y” she barely finished her sentence when she noticed the young man now out of sight.
Meanwhile, jimin didn’t mind the mud covering the bottom of his black robe wanting more from this world, being tied down wasn’t one of his many life motto’s, that woman would only tell him what right from wrong, and he didn’t want that.
People's loud chatter filled the empty streets, sake being drunk politely by peers of which jimin once performed in front of. Curling his hands as the harsh cold meet the back of his neck preparing to leave, he couldn’t. no longer wanting anything more in his life than to find the beautiful melodies consuming his attention.
Tones that could make him smile with flashing memories, happy memories.
With every prick you sat amidst your former spectators as they sprung money into the rusted tin you held in front of you, most cowering from your perfect sounds to focus more on the loud gossip, but you. You could only be more engaged with your own koto nailing every single sound that fell into the street.
You held no emotion, controlling the movements of your fingers vigorously, some may even say your talents deserved more than these dirty streets, but how could you when beauty was the main attraction and here your talent was overlooked by your poor appearance.
Your lightweight hat helped to cover your face from any viewers who couldn’t control their creepy smiles, which by the way someone couldn’t control their infatuation with your musical attributes to this city.
“Excuse me” a soft voice called, just a few feet away.
You stopped playing your music first looking at the money and the soft pale hand dropping a few coins in the tin which will keep your life running for a few more days, you followed the hand to see the body attached to it.
strangers no longer cared for your soundless words leaving you and this man” what is your name??” he asked carefully searching for your eyes beneath the hat.”and why would you wanna know”you asked roughly, your voiced parched from the lack of substance and vitamins, when was the last time you ate. You thought Trying to recollect those fading images of the last meal you consumed.
“Well I would like to compliment you, that's all. A woman with a name would be much more appreciated”
You stayed silent wishing for him to leave, the last time you spoke to a man of such beauty your world was thrown away to ashes, but he pushed further not having a sense of giving up” well my name’s jimin, and I would love to say how amazing you played. and was wondering if you would be interested in playing for me” he asked hesitantly, feeling slightly intimidated with your emotionless demeanor.
“And why is that,” you asked not fully understanding his offering.
“I would like to offer you a job as my partner, to spread your musical work with my performances” his palms began to sweat, he wasn’t lying, your melodies en captured his heart caging it with your koto of which he would enjoy hearing every day.
But watching your body language and appearance you could only stare at the coins as the realization hit him” all costs are paid” he impulsively mentioned making you blush in embarrassment.
“What will I gain out of this” you negotiated glaring into his sharp brown eyes, he sucked in a breath, he was shocked for a second gazing into your own, his heart clenched in ecstasy feeling a moment of warmth surrounding him as he never wanted to shift his gaze from those broken eyes.
“Recognition” and that was all you needed pulling out your dirty hand to grip his lightly” my names y/n” you muttered standing up to him, you stood nearly the same height as him letting go of his hand which gripped your own a bit too harshly for your liking.
“Well y- JIMIN” a loud feminine voice interrupted your staring competition, you eyed the woman who made her angry steps louder as she closed in on you both, first giving you an evil look to which you replied the same feeling nothing but petty for the woman who greeted you like that.
“What did I say, you ran off from yuno causing us all in a state of distress.” she voiced her worries as you lowered your hat gathering your things, the deal seemed a bit much anyway.
“You worry too much” he joked as the women continued to helplessly complain.
Jimin pushed the women's opinions from his focus, only watching you gather your things” who’s this” she said under her breath, you didn’t want to spur up any unwanted attention so you quietly tried to leave from the rising tension. But it was too late feeling your wrist get caught up in the hands of another.
“She’s a new recruit” he bent to look at you one last time before smiling at his elder” and a new friend of mine who will be coming with us for the rest of the journey” you tensed at the word friend, he wasn’t someone you would define as a friend. Barely knowing a thing about the male who stood with a face full of makeup resembling the geisha who walked around you.
No, he seemed much more known than someone of the likes of you, and as the thought happened you're taking your wrist out of his pressing your lips in a thin line while greeting his superior.
“I see, you understand the meaning of this right jimin” he nodded in excitement, not understanding the concept of privacy, he gently held your wrist again as the woman eyed you one last time before sighing” I’ll prepare her attire for upcoming shows” she took one last glare at you, making sure you felt the venom in her words hoping they would fall through your broken cracks to hurt your core of living.
This woman hated you for sure.
“And you, I hope your prepared to play that thing of yours in front of the more dominant side of japan. Cause if anything goes wrong it's on you” she growled at you sharply turning her way back to the transport.
The male geisha gave you a comforting squeeze hitting you with words of reassurance“Hey it’s alright, don’t worry. We’re friends now aren’t we, I’ll take care of you”
jimin guided you hand in hand to your transport where a long journey awaits you both.
Y/n bears a heavy secret that she can’t share. Isolated and lost she is forced to move to another city for her protection. The only thing she wants is to discover what happened to her family and maybe staying alive. But in a world full of wolf it’s difficult not to feel like a lamb.
Warning: social anxiety, angst (nothing much really), Jimin is a soft boy
First chapter of a new serie in the same universe than Alpha! I am really excited about it! You don’t have to read Alpha to read this serie but it would be great to have all the details of the story. Love you all ~
Jimin was not really captivated by his class. Theory wasn't his specialty. He was good at dancing, he liked it more than anything. And it was what he wanted to do with his life. Except it wasn't always the case. Even as a dance major he had to know some theory. Dance history was usually a subject he liked, but he could not concentrate this time. He was looking for Hoseok, he was unable to spot the red hair man. He was feeling alone, and it had not happened in a long time. Being surrounded by a lot of friends had become usual for him. Sometimes it was even vital. But his friends were really busy. Yoongi was graduating this year and was busy studying for his exam, Namjoon was a member of at least a thousand association and it was taking him all his free time, Taehyung was trying to make a portfolio as a photograph and was chasing models, Hoseok was the leader of their dance crew and had a thousand things to do because of that. He had not seen Jungkook in a long time. Well what was a long time for him. The boy was spending all his time with his new girlfriend, the alpha girl he had met at the grocery store. Jimin had nothing against her. She was actually a nice person, a good alpha and her aura was making him feel safe and relax, which was a thing that never really happened when he was near alpha that wasn't his friends. But the truth was there. She was stealing his best friend. His Jungkookie. And even if he felt like he was not supposed to be jealous, at least not for the reason he was, he was still jealous.
In fact, he could not believe Jungkook had found an alpha before him. The kid had been an omega for three weeks, and he already had a girlfriend that cared and was ready to do anything for him. The worst was that Jungkook never wanted this. He never wanted to be an omega. He didn't want to have a girlfriend or a boyfriend. But it was all Jimin wanted. In the opposite of the maknae, Jimin had always enjoyed being an omega. He knew since he was a child it was what he would be. He was soft, caring, and wanted a big family he could spoil and protect. But he never had chance with any of his partner. He had no problem with finding companionship for his heat, it was in fact pretty easy. Finding someone he would love was almost impossible. He was maybe too romantic. He was in love with the simple idea of falling in love. If it wasn't love at first sight he was not interested. He knew it was stupid, but he could not help it.
He was almost falling asleep when his eyes fell on a girl. She was sitting alone on the side, no one was sitting near her, as there was a security perimeter around her. He didn't recognize her, he had not seen her anywhere before. Which was weird because he was sure he knew everyone in this class. He kept looking at her, curiously, almost getting caught staring as she turned around a few times. She was pretty Jimin thought. Maybe she was a new student. He should go at the end of the class talk to her. She might use some company as she seemed as lonely as him right now. He smiled at the idea of making a new friend. The class was over and as he was turning his computer off, he saw her almost running out of the class. He tried to pack faster, with a bit of luck he would find her in the corridor. But she wasn't there. Deception took over him. He really was disappointed. He didn't know why this reaction. But he knew he would have like to meet her.
You almost yeeted out of class at the end of the hour. Not that you felt uncomfortable, because at this rate you never really felt comfortable, but you could feel it. Someone was looking at you. When you were turning around nobody was watching you. But you knew, wolf were sneaky. You didn't want anyone to come and threaten you or worse try to befriend you. You walked through the corridor not really knowing where you wanted to go. In fact, you were supposed to go to the library to work on an essay but you had no idea where it was. And it was not possible for you to ask anyone. Last time you asked for direction the girl had come back a day later telling you that you should not bother to talk to her ever again. Apparently she thought that you were just on suppressant, so when she learned that you weren't a wolf... You weren't expecting it would be that bad. At least the girl who was supposed to help you was nice. Actually she was more than nice. A sweetheart really. But she couldn't be with you all the time so you had to go through this alone. You stopped walking, you didn't know where you were going so it was useless. You were praying in your head that the goddess would send you a sign. Anything that would lead you right to the library.
« Excuse me ? »
You turned around almost having a heart attack. It was a man, maybe the same age as you, a bit older maybe. He had a nice smile, a dimple pocking his cheeks.
« Are you new ? You seem a bit lost. »
It was awesome. You probably looked like a dumb ass.
« Yeah... Actually I am looking for the library. But I don't know where it is. »
He smiled again.
« Don't worry. You are not far away, it the staircase on the left, just keep walking through this corridor ».
You smiled at him ready to leave.
« Hey I am Namjoon by the way. I am a philosophy major. And you ? »
You blinked a few time.
« I am Y/n. History major. »
Someone called him behind him. He turned around before telling you.
« Well I hope you'll find the library. See you Y/n !
-See you Namjoon » your words hang in the air. He was already gone.
You did as he said and indeed you find the library. You tried not to look too mortified. You were just uncomfortable with men. The first man you saw was the wolf who come pick you up from the place you were waiting when you ran away from home. You were not used to society as you had grown in a coven. Thanks god you were not like some of those hermits type of witches and you had received an education. Trying not too much to think about how you ended up here, you sat down and opened your book. You choose to study history because it was the subject you liked the most and you had the most knowledge about. It has been interesting so far, even if you thought it was very « wolf centered ». It must be that to be the dominant in society.
Even history couldn't resist. You tried to stay as far away from other students as possible, you knew that by now, probably everyone knew who you were. It may have been a big university, people were talking. Happily no one has tried to talk to you. Yet. You finished your essay pretty fast, not that you were a specialist in story of Salem and trial of what people from the time called « witches ». You were putting one of your book back on its shelf when someone coughed behind you. You turned around to see a boy around your age. He was smiling at you gently. You didn't know this dude, and as soon as you looked into his eyes you knew something was off. But could you really say anything as every man was sending shiver down your spine. The fear of the unknown apparently. Maybe the fact hat you could literally see people's aura and were sometimes totally linked to their emotions was making you a bit antsy. He genially seemed like a good person.
« Hey ! I am sorry if I scarred you, I am Jeahyun, we are in the same history of music class.
-Oh. Well I am Y/n...
-I know, he said, everyone learned who you were those last few days since you arrived ».
Awesome. Exactly what you wanted.
« So you were studying ?
-Yeah I just finished one of my essay. I was leaving.
-Oh... Sorry if I am bothering you. I just wanted to know if you wanted to come with me. I mean some of my friends are doing a small party and I just thought it would be cool if you'd agree to go. You could make some friends as you are new and everything. »
It was actually nice of him. He didn't seem to be repulsed by you or anything. But there was no way in hell you would come with him.
« Sorry. I am supposed to meet friends tonight.
-Really ? That's cool you already know people. »
You felt like he was doubting your words. Did you like that clueless of any human interaction ?
« Yeah. Nari is my friend.
-Nari ? The music major alpha ?
-Yeah. »
He simply nodded smiling gently as he accompanied you to the exit. You were so hyper aware of Jaehyun presence that you didn't even watch where you were going. You bumped into someone the firm body almost making you fall over.
« Y/n are you okay ? » you heard Jeahyun asked.
But you were too stunned to answer right away. The hand of the stranger was wrapped around your wrist to stabilize you. His contact was so warm. His skin almost too hot to handle as it was touching yours. It was not painful, but it was warming up your entire body. It was something you've never felt before. No magic had never had this effect on you. When you finally looked at him you almost were blinded. You've never seen such an aura. He was surrounded by bright orange and soft pink, the power of it almost too much for your eyes. It was suiting him perfectly, the soft hue of orange highlighting his soft features. He looked like an angel.
He let go of your arm in what seemed forever even if it only has been a few seconds.
« Hey Jimin
-Oh Jahyun. I did not see you. »
Jimin was a wolf from what you could feel. You were not excellent with dynamics so you had no clue what he could be. They discussed for a minute, letting you the opportunity to recompose yourself. The contact you had with the wolf had shaken you a bit harder than it should have. Jimin turned towards you.
« Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going.
-No it's me. Sorry. »
He bowed down a little before leaving you alone with Jaehyun. You could not stand watch him go away so you kept your eyes on your feet.
« Are you okay Y/n ?
-Yeah I am fine ! I am going to return home, I am a bit tired
-No problem, let me walk you to your car »
You let him do, not really feeling like being alone right now.
Jimin just wanted to give back some books. He was already two weeks late, and he didn't want to own even more money to the university library. He had a pretty shitty day after the pretty girl from his first class ran away. He kept thinking that maybe it was his fault, she saw him looking and got scared and just ran away. He kept scolding himself, that it should not be this important. But it was. He was entering the library, sighting from exhaustion, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders, not looking where he was going. He felt the collision reacting just in time to avoid the other person to fall. He grabbed their arm, helping them to stabilize. The electric current that started through his body at this moment was something he never experienced before. He looked up surprised, his heart beatting incredibly fast. It was the girl from before. The one who ran away from him this morning. She was prettier than he had imagined. Freeking beautiful. Her scent was sweet and the moment he smelt it, it sended his wolf in a frenzie. That wasn't normal. It never happened before and it wasn't supposed to happen. He let go of her arm as fast as he could, his wolf crying inside, but his heart finally slowed down.
« Hey Jimin. »
It was Jaehyun, they were in some class together. They were not really friend, but he was genially a good guy.
« Oh Jaehyun I didn't see you.
-Yeah, it's been a while. How have you been? »
Jimin didn't want to have a discussion right now.
« Well you know. Midterms had been kicking my ass.
-Yeah everyone can relate to this.
The girl was clenching her hand on her shirt, avoiding his eyes as much as she could. Could it be possible that she was feeling it too ?
« Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going » he said trying to make her look at him.
« No it's me. Sorry. »
She finally looked at him and Jimin stopped breathing again. If he was going to have this reaction every time she was around it was going to be difficult. He bowed down cutting off the visual contact and left. He needed to leave.
« Are you okay Y/n ?
-Yeah I am fine ! I am going to return home, I am a bit tired
-No problem, let me walk you to your car »
His heart clenched as he was walking toward the library main desk, getting away from her more and more.
You arrived at home after a long bus ride. Jaehyun has been shocked when you told him you didn't have a car. Apparently every student had a car. You really should get your driving license, the thing was that you had no idea how to drive and had to learn absolutely everything. Were you really that motivated ? Not really. You lived in a small apartment not far away from Nari's home, her father wanting you to be close. The only thing that you hated was the seven floor you had to climb all those stairs when the elevator was out of order like tonight. You didn't felt anything until it hit you. A wave of magic, powerful magic. You started running up the stairs hoping to meet the source of that power. But when you arrived at your apartment door, at the last floor, breathless and sweaty, there was nothing. You sometime wished to have super senses like sens of smell. It was so useful to detect anyone even when you couldn't see. You opened the door of your apartment. Nobody was there.
« You’re crazy ».
The fact that was that you never really were used to loneliness. Growing up in a coven meant never being alone. You enjoyed solitude, at first. Now it was more ponderous than anything. You still had no friends tho, and had no idea how you were supposed to do that. You apartment was small, like every student apartment. You had been very lucky than the pack authorized you to stay here alone. At first, you were scared you had to stay recluse in the pack house. Not that you were not comfortable with wolves but you were really not. You chase that idea from your head before it caused you more anxiety. You decided to go to bed early, not wanting to stay awake more. The only serenity you could feel was when you were sleeping and then lately even in your dreams it was almost impossible to find peace.
And this night didn't do any exception. If you had not found any rest those past few days it was because of a dream. The exact same dream every night. You were condemned to relive the night you ran away from your home. A thud echoed in your entire house, no one seemed to care. You had staid awake to finish studying. Everyone was asleep. Except they weren't. Even if you knew what was going to happen, it was still the same feeling. Fear, devastating sadness. But everything happened so fast, and everything you can feel now is the sensation of the fire, fire everywhere. Flames were licking the wall of your house, blocking your way to the stairs. Maybe it was seeing the dead body of your parents again and again that was starting to be difficult. The same feeling was creeping in your body. Even if you knew what you were gonna see, tears were still streaming down your cheeks. Your body was frozen even if all you wanted was to run. But the thing with those dreams were that you were bounded to do the exact same things than that night. This is where your body started to move. You ran to your room, and like every other time you trip over something and you fell near your bed. A feeling of panic invaded you again, and your moves to crawl in direction of the window. You knew you were about to jump out the window but it didn't make it easier. You were paralyzed as you arrived in front of it. But the hubbub of the fire behind you was the best motivation. Jumping off a window was not the most pleasant thing you did but the more you were thinking about it and the more you though it was better than being burned alive. It took you a second to refined your breath. Your head was pounding, your back was so painful that it took you several turns to get up.
The howl of what you could only identify as dogs motivated you to get up. Running in the woods was more difficult each time. You were not running fast enough but it was not like you could hear anything. The sound of your own breath and heart was making you almost deaf. Paranoia was running high in your blood. Every sound, creak, was making you jolt. You stopped after a while running was useless at this point. Knowing what was going to happen was somehow worse than being ignorant. The impact was more violent this time. You fall down hard on your side, rolling on your side from the force. Your vision was blurry but you succeed into gathering all your strength to roll on your side, it was maybe not the best idea when you started to roll down a hill. A growl was heard behind you and you told yourself that you preferred to throw yourself in a bunch of blackberries than being found by what was hunting you. You lost consciousness for a bit and you were expecting to wake up but you didn't. When you open your eyes you still were in the middle of the forest. The moon was shining high above you, the face of the boy that was leaning above you. You were unable to see him properly. Your eyes were like a camera out of focus.
« Are you okay ? »
His voice was like velvet.
« I-I don't-
-Shhh don't talk... They might hear us. »
You were starting to recover your senses. The face of the man becoming more and more visible. He was the most beautiful man you ever laid your eyes on. Blond hair falling on his forehead. Soft brown eyes that were looking at you with care and worries. Suddenly it hit you.
« You-
-Don't move ! »
He touched your arm and everything snapped. You woke up in your bed a strange feeling lingering in your body. You were sweating as if you really just run through a forest. It was strange, normally you would just woke up normally, a bit confused. It was totally different this time. Your side was hurting, your breath was shallow, the skin on your arm where the man touched you was strangely warm. You stood up, your head was spinning and you fell on the floor. Your cheek hit the wood floor as a gasp of pain escaped you. There was something wrong. You got up fast almost tripping again. Switching up the light of your bathroom, you watched yourself in the mirror. The scratch on your arms, ans cheeks was no due to your clumsiness. You lift up your shirt and there were red marks all over your skin. You could cry right now. You didn't know what was happening. It was scary. But what could you do. Maybe you should talk to Nari. Or maybe it was nothing. You should just go to sleep.
Jimin felt like shit today. He didn't sleep well, and after the weird dream he did it was impossible for him to sleep again. His class was going to be a nightmare. It was the first time he did a dream that vivid. He often dreamed about running in the woods, generally when the full moon was coming closer and when he didn’t go for a run with his pack for a while. But this one was different. He opened his eyes, and he was not in his room anymore. Everything seemed so real that he really thought he slept walk into the forest. But he heard a scream, and it was stronger than his will, he had to go see who it was, what was happening. He run as fast as he could, and he arrived very quickly in the middle of a meadow. This is when he heard the growls. Other wolves ? He could not tell, but he knew dip down he was in danger. Someone was lying there, asleep. Or maybe they were dead. He could not smell anything. It was a girl, he could not see her face, but she seemed familiar. She slowly turned her head toward him. He gasped at the injury he could see on the side of her face. He wanted to touch her but at the moment he extended his arm toward her face she looked at him.
« Are you okay ? »
She seemed confused, her eyes blinking uncontrollably, as she had trouble to see.
« I-I don't-
-Shhh don't talk... They might hear us. »
She was starting to move more, and seemed more aware of what was happening around her. They had to leave if something was coming their way. They could not stay there. But she was hurt and it was probably dangerous to move her around.
« You-
-Don't move ! »
He touched her arm and everything snapped.
Now he was in class, and he could not take the girl of his dream out of his mind. Even more when she was probably going to be here today.
Warnings: so much fluff it made me a little sick, alcohol consumption, slight reckless driving
Word count: 653
You have been dating Jimin for two blissful, wonderful years and you have only considered killing him three times.
The first was when he introduced you to his brothers the first time. Well, introduced was a kind way to put it because he was so caught up in “his bestest person meeting his bestest friends” that he forgot to tell you he was bringing them over. Which lead to him and the six other members of the biggest boyband in the world barging in on you watching reruns of Friends in sweatpants and Cheeto dust coating your chin.
Luckily Namjoon was distracted by the television and started telling you about the time in LA when he saw Jennifer Aniston walking down the street and how he nearly pissed his pants.
You got on well with the boys.
The second time was when you had a really bad day and you came home to him finishing off your last tub of ice cream. He was so startled at being caught, he accidentally threw the spoon and it had smacked you on the forehead.
He did buy you three new pints and spent the rest of the night giving you top tier cuddles, so you couldn’t really complain.
And the third time… Well, the third time was now.
The boys had just won another award for their new single and thought it was the perfect opportunity to celebrate. Specifically, celebrate with alcohol. Jimin, being the kind and thoughtful friend he is, drunk half of Jungkook’s glasses on top of his own. To “help the poor kid learn how to moderate his drinking”. Then the whiskey was pulled out, and Taehyung doesn’t like whiskey, so Jimin drunk his share as well. What kind of friend would he be if he made Tae drink something gross?
So now you were stuck dragging his cute ass back to your house, cursing his whiney voice and everybody’s inability to say no to him.
“You’re pretty.”
He gets so clingy when he's drunk too. Not that you don’t like clingy, because you really do love his hugs, but it’s not quite the same when you’re driving at three in the morning and his hand keeps stroking your hair.
You bat him off at the next stop light and force yourself not to look at his pout.
“Yeah, I know, Jimin. It’s the third time you’ve said that since we got in the car.”
“You are sooooooo pretty.”
You sigh.
“You’re very pretty too, Jimin.”
“Let’s get married.”
The screech of tires on the road doesn’t startle him as much as it does you. He just giggles into his palms and does that happy little squeak he does. Like he hadn’t almost caused you both to crash and die.
“You can’t just stop in the middle of the road, silly!” He exclaims, before dropping into a whisper. “Are you drunk?”
You start the car again even though the road is completely empty but you’re unsure how to restart your heart.
“What did you say?”
“What did I say? I forgets.”
“You want to get married?”
“Yes. But only to Y/N.”
“Only to Y/N?”
“Yes. Everybody else smells bad.”
He’s nodding like it’s the most intelligent thing he has ever said and you think you fall in love with him even more.
“I wanna get married too, Jimin.”
“Look at that bird!”
You’ve lost him but you don’t mind. You don’t mind rubbing his back when he vomits into your toilet later that night either. You also don’t mind him burping in your ear when you just fell asleep. And you don’t mind looking after him in the morning when he’s grumpy and in pain and has forgotten how he got home last night and what he said. You don’t mind because deep down you know you want to do this with him every day for the rest of your life.
Related works: see Masterlist under guardian demon! Jimin
Continuation of Twice Fallen
Warnings: violence, strong language, and slight body horror
A/N: WOW THIS. TOOK. FOREVER. I’m gonna real with yall, this took a lot of re-writes. Heed the warnings please, and also if you haven’t read Twice Fallen or anything before that, please do because we’re getting back into business. Thank you for all your patience! T^T <3
Tags as per requested! @cherryjiminiee @kokobaekkie @breathebangtan @itsadoozie @thatshylatinagirl @chiminieboi @azulamakesmeblank @sectumsemptae
When you’re a supernatural being who was born in either heaven or hell, no one tells you what happens after you die. It’s almost unanimously agreed upon by both parties (probably one and few very rare things they can agree on), that your existence simply ceases to exist. At least, those with no significance to their names — Satan for example, in the case that they’re ever killed, will not perish but be reborn again, for they are absolute, meant to be a vital part to the balance of the universe. After all, there cannot be light without darkness.
Then there are the optimists, those who whisper and gossip about how one can have their names engraved amongst the stars or brimstone if they manage to accomplish a great deed that’s worth being remembered in their lifetime. Jimin doesn’t remember there being actual proof of that so he counted himself as a skeptic amongst many others because when it comes down to it, they are expendable beings, pawns to those above them. Maybe that’s where those rumours were born; from the underlying fear of every angel or demon alike being forgotten after meeting their unfortunate demise. Once you’re gone from this life, there is no second chance.
Which is why it’s strange to Jimin that he is very much acutely aware of himself and his stream of conscious when he most definitely shouldn’t be, not after taking a sip of holy water no less. But here he was, still thinking and forming thoughts. He tries to make sense of it all, and it takes him a while because it’s like his mind is muddy, groggy as if he had just roused from a very deep slumber only, it feels like he’s still dreaming. There’s a certain weightlessness about him, like he’s floating underwater, neither sinking to its depths nor rising to the surface but simply being held, suspended with nowhere to go.
He can’t see anything as far as he could tell, what with not even knowing whether his eyes are shut or not but there is nothing else — no sound, no smell, and nothing beneath his fingers to touch. It’s almost serene, Jimin would go as far as to say he wouldn’t mind staying like this but something in him tells him no, he shouldn’t. It continues to gnaw at him until pieces of what seem like distant memories start to appear before him; a face, the sounds of voices, the smell of lavender….
Jimin concentrates, trying hard to grasp at these strands that seem to slip away but in doing so he begins to feel other things, like slowly, his senses are coming back to him. The first thing he notices is that he’s cold. There’s an icy chill in the air that seems to have settled itself deep into his bones and had made every joint in his body stiff to move, even his fingers. Stubbornly, Jimin tries to move them, feeling like he had to summon some herculean strength to be able to do so and still, managing to just make them twitch. In that brief moment however, the pads brush against something beneath them.
Is that…grass?
There’s a growing metallic taste in his mouth, it makes him swallow reflexively but it only triggers a burning sensation in his throat.
Jimin can feel the soil beneath where he lies now, when only moments ago he swore he was — no, he should be…
Lying on the marble floor.
The burning gets worse now, rapidly spreading across his body until like a bolt of electricity, it comes rushing to him all at once.
The basilica.
The prayer.
The chalice.
And then the blinding pain.
A loud, choked gasp escapes past Jimin’s lips; his first real breath in what seems like an eternity and he greedily continues to take in lungfuls despite the burning. He doesn’t know where he is anymore, only that there is no longer grass beneath him and that he probably looks like a dying fish out of water (he certainly feels like one). It doesn’t even feel like he’s completely in control of his body yet either because he has no feeling in any of his limbs so all he could do is lay there and regain his breathing, managing them down to shaky pants. His vision is blurry like he’s seeing through foggy glass and at times it wavers until he sees double, making him feel nauseous. Jimin blinks, desperately trying to have them focus. As they do, he begins to make out shapes and colours until they all come together to create a clearer image.
Gold trimmings, towering columns, high dome ceilings….
He’s back in the basilica.
Jimin doesn’t know whether to be thankful of that or not.
He continues to lay there for a while longer, mind still numb and in hopes of regaining some strength to attempt to move himself. He starts off small; first his fingers, then his hands, and eventually once he gets most of his feelings back in his limbs, he tries to sit up. Of course, that was too optimistic on Jimin’s part because as soon as he puts on any amount of force, his muscles scream out in protest, causing him to moan out in pain. He’s forced to remain immobile for another while longer, waiting for the millions of needle like pinpricks to subside. When they do, he tries again. It’s a slow, agonizing process but through sheer stubbornness and gritted teeth, Jimin successfully rolls himself over until he rests on his side.
He’s out of breath again, a sheen of sweat forming along his brows that even resting his forehead against the marble floor is not cooling enough. After a few more moments, Jimin forces himself to move, determined to drag himself to the clear panel wall in front of him, even if it means crawling there. From there, at least he knows he’ll have a better chance at righting himself up if he has something to lean against. It takes another excruciating amount of effort, a lot of grunting and hissing before with overwhelming relief, his fingers touch the panel and he’s making that last stretch to hauling himself up until he’s slouched haphazardly against the thick glass.
Ignoring the ache in his limbs, Jimin lets his eyes slip shut, leaning his head back if only to take a moment to finally assess his situation and let things sink in.
First and foremost, he’s alive. Everything insanely hurts and he feels on the verge of death still, but somehow even after all of that he’s still in one piece. Or at least, he thinks so…
Tiredly, he peels open his eyes to do a quick sweep of what he can see; two legs even if it feels like he doesn’t have them, a torso, arms, hands, all ten fingers, a head…
Jimin’s head thumps as he goes back to resting it against the glass and he hisses, wincing in regret. Yup definitely there, and probably shouldn’t have done that.
His eyes drift to take in his surroundings. The basilica is still empty and as quiet as ever, void of any signs of life with nothing but the reliefs of angels and saints as his company. This makes Jimin’s brows furrow in confusion; just how long has he been out for? A minute? An hour? Days or maybe even longer? He doesn’t have any sense of time at all right now, and it slowly stirs up a panic in his gut. Frantically, he searches for a window, a doorway, anything that will help him determine the time of day but as he does, Jimin starts to recognize the faces carved into the niches of these pillars, recalling how he could’ve sworn he’d seen them on his way into the building so there was no way they should be here, all the way at the apse —
Belatedly, he pieces together the fact that it’s him who’s not where he thought he was. So caught up with trying not to pass out for the second time, Jimin had failed to realize that he had woken up in another part of the basilica and with no recollection of how he got there. His head lolls, eyes trailing up the length of thick glass before straying past the barrier until they meet the sorrowful marble face of Mary, cradling the body of her dead son on her lap.
The Pieta.
Jimin’s mouth twitches and if it didn’t hurt so much, he would’ve actually laughed.
Like rubbing salt onto a wound, how unbelievable.
He disregards the obvious jab for more pressing matters, like how when he finally finds some form of light streaming into the basilica across the way from him, it had turned out to be the same pale blue glow of the moon as when he had first arrived. Frustration threatens to boil over him as Jimin clenches his jaw, inhaling deeply in an attempt to collect himself. Regardless, if it was a minute, an hour, or even a day, it is still way too long for his liking.
Swallowing thickly, Jimin tries to summon the energy to reach out to his powers in order to apparate but like with everything else, he struggles in finding that pull in his drastically weakened state. It doesn’t help that every time he tries, the pounding in his head worsens until he’s dizzy all over again. He’s almost begging with himself at this point, overwhelmed with the need to find that familiar tug, his only way out, shutting his eyes to push aside the exhaustion that he wants to succumb to so badly. Finally, with every ounce of strength he can muster, Jimin feels it, so faint that it’s almost not there that the moment it’s within reach, he grabs onto it desperately, holding on with only the thought of ‘home’ left to guide him.
-
Your forced smile drops from your face, a heavy sigh leaving you as soon as the customer walks away from your register. You don’t know how many times you’ve done it since you started your shift but it’s become more like a coping mechanism to keep yourself from completely losing it than you simply being tired. You’re about three days away from hopping on a plane with your friend to see BTS and live out your best life, if only for a short while but instead of being jittery with excitement, you’re an absolute ball of anxiety. And thanks to that, it gets in the way of every little thing. You don’t know how many times you’ve tried to pack your things, only to unpack them, second guess yourself and then end up back with what you started it in the first place; no toiletries, half of your travel essentials and a haphazard pile of clothes with no coherent outfits put together.
It makes for the remaining shifts you had to do more draining than they usually are, your mind not focusing on the menial tasks you’re supposed to be doing and instead, choosing to race with a million different thoughts a minute — all of which are worries that centre around the concert. Your friend and fellow concert buddy had messaged you earlier that day asking you about the finer details that you too would love to know about the trip, unintentionally adding fuel to your mounting anxiety. You don’t blame her of course, because it’s a very valid thing to worry about but you feel awful that the only thing you could do was apologize and reassure her that you would let her know as soon as possible.
But above all else, your worries come to a head when you think about one specific guardian demon.
Jimin has yet to reply to any of your text messages, not even the ones that don’t necessarily ask him of his whereabouts. You’re someone who respects and understand the meaning of space, hell you’re even guilty of not speaking to close friends for insanely long periods of times too because everyone’s got lives to live but even you at least still receive and reply to random check-ins when you can.
Jimin didn’t even leave you on read, and you would’ve been completely fine if he had.
At least then you would know he’s doing okay.
The sigh comes out again before you can stop it; you really need to just...lie down and not think for an hour or two. By the time you clock out, you’re more than relieved to be leaving if only to save yourself the embarrassment of not functioning as a proper human being in public. As you approach the front entrance however, you catch sight of the heavy overcast skies and the light drizzle beginning to fall. You groan to yourself — you had expected the forecast to call for rain, but it was just your luck that it would start as soon as you finish work. Which was why in your lack of better judgement, you didn’t bring an umbrella.
Commuting was going to be a bitch.
Not wanting to stall in case the rain picks up, you suck it up and hurriedly make your way to the bus stop, glad for at least having the shelter to shield you if only for a bit. Much to your dismay however, the rain comes down heavier by the time you get off at your stop and when you finally burst through your door, it had turned into a full on torrential rainstorm. You huff, trying to catch your breath from having to sprint so suddenly before reaching down to fling off your now soaked shoes. You also immediately remove your equally soaked socks with a grimace, hating the wet squelch they make as you leave them hanging off the wire shoe rack; you’ll toss them into the laundry along with the rest of the clothes on your back once you’ve changed.
You head to the kitchen first, intending to store your overpriced bagel and ice coffee you decided to run and get during your lunch but never ended up eating more than a few bites because of how long it took for your order to be made. You go to flick on the lights, the house much darker than it is at three in the afternoon thanks to the ominous clouds and downpour outside (you think you hear the faint rumbling of thunder now too). You hear the click of the switch but to your surprise, the kitchen remains just as dark. You blink, perplexed and in disbelief.
Huh…
Your fingers flick the switch a couple of more times, eyes darting to the lights above to confirm that yup, they don’t work — is the storm that bad that there’s a power outage? The blinking digital clock of the microwave says otherwise, its indication telling you that there had probably been a power surge but by all means, you should still have electricity right now. Maybe it’s a blown bulb then?
Ugh. You’ll deal with it later. Right now, you want to get out of your t-shirt and jeans that’s slowly drying but sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You check the other lights as you make your way to your room, curious to see if any of them work (they don’t) and as you approach your door, you catch the scent of something, something that oddly smells like….burnt wood?
You continue sniffing, mind doubtful because the scent comes and goes so in the end, you’re not sure if it’s there or you’re simply imagining it. Shaking your head, you push open the door and as soon as you do, you freeze. You feel your eyes widen as they zero in on an unmoving mass lying a few feet across your doorway. You can’t discern what it is, it being half hidden behind the foot of your bed that juts out and the lack of good lighting but all you do know is that it’s big and most definitely shouldn’t be in your room. You shakily reach for your phone, grasping it tightly into your hand, mind racing for explanations — is it a large animal? How did it get in? Or worse, are you looking at a person?! Are they dead or alive? Did you unknowingly walk into your own home while it was in the middle of being burglarized?!
The never-ending questions quickly begin to make the panic rise within and you fight to keep your breathing calm, unheard. You’re deep in your flight or fight mode and right now, it’s telling you you need to get the hell out of here while this…thing is still unaware of your presence. Just when you move to shift your weight, fully intending on backing away and bolting the hell out of your front door like a bat out of hell, a flash of lightening streaks across the sky outside, illuminating your room briefly. You flinch but quickly stop all movements at what you had just seen.
It was only for a second but it was enough. If you were to look back on this moment, you would’ve thought just how fortunate the timing of it all was, how if it hadn’t been for the storm and the lightening, you would’ve just left without looking back.
But right now, you feel your heart cracking alongside the resounding thunder that followed.
It’s…It’s not— It can’t be, you think but already you know what you saw; you recognize his lithe figure anywhere. Your breath comes out so shallowly you think you’re barely breathing, numbly stumbling forward despite your body gripped in an ice cold fear. You almost don’t want to go any closer because of what you might find.
You don’t want your last memories of him to be of his corpse.
When you’re about a foot away from his body, you muster every nerve in you to bring your phone up, knuckles white from clenching them so hard, fumbling until you’re able to turn on the flash. The sudden flooding of light blinds you momentarily but as your eyes readjust, a gasp loudly tears itself from your lips.
Jimin is motionless before you, head lolled to one side with eyes shut as if he was merely asleep, only you don’t see the steady rise and fall of his chest no matter how much you searched. Legs feeling weak, you drop down to kneel beside him, eyes trembling as you take in his profile. His skin is sickly in colour, pale as a ghost against the harsh light of your phone, lacking in any of the warm honey tone that makes him seem to glow from the inside. It comes off almost translucent, dark spidery veins snaking along his jaw, neck and, from the dip in his stained shirt, his collarbones, appearing so much more prominent that they look like cracks in fine porcelain, ready to break at the slightest touch. You see the bruising under his eyes, traveling down his cheek which are ruddy with remnants of what looked like ink stains, much like the ones on his shirt.
“J-Jimin….” Your voice breaks, his name coming out in a quiet whimper. He doesn’t respond and you feel so lost and so helpless; not understanding why or how this could happen to him but more so, what you can do to save him.
You reach out a shaky hand, fingers clasping at his shoulder to give him a shake, “Jimin, hey… p-please….this— this isn’t….”
No response still.
Your throat tightens before you can get any more words out. Desperately swallowing past the lump, you try hard not to let it overwhelm you as your hand trails to his neck, hoping, praying to find a pulse there, however faint it may be.
Just as your fingers press into the delicate skin, you see a flash of amber and suddenly your wrist is being clamped down by an iron grip, sharp nails digging into your skin and twisting it in a painful angle that has the breath knocked out of you in a startled yelp. Crimson eyes bore into your own, the shock of seeing slitted pupils that stare at you with such an intensity, you can’t help but shrink back. The irises glow, shifting like flickering flames made even more vibrant against the black that’s taken over where the white of the sclera should be, a dark endless abyss that threatens to swallow you whole. It sends every nerve in your body on edge, telling you that you need to run from this threat but you fight against the instinct because though the grip on your wrist is bruising, you feel the faint tremors behind it — he’s hurt and vulnerable, but most of all, he’s scared.
“Jimin…” You call softly, watching as those crimson orbs flicker with recognition before the hostile edge fades away and the grip on your wrist is released.
“….Y/N…” He breathes tiredly, utterly exhausted. His voice comes out so much hoarser, throat raw as if he’d been screaming nonstop but the sound alone is enough to have tears well up in your eyes. You can only find it in you to nod in affirmation, not trusting yourself to speak lest you wanted to end up breaking down. You sniffle and when you regain your composure, your eyes immediately focus on him and now that he’s conscious, you’re finally able to see the extent of his injuries. The sight makes your eyes widen, sharply inhaling until you swear you stop breathing altogether.
Whereas one half of his face was marred by unnatural dark fissures and bruised, ghostly skin, the other half barely had any left. The skin looks as if it had been torn away, starting from the highest point of his cheek, grazing just below his eye, all the way down past one side of his nose and lips and ending at the base of his throat. Though the ragged edges of the wound look irritated, in other places they look burnt in a way flesh is not supposed to be, like paper that has been caught on fire instead. Beneath it all….
You swallow with a shudder, bile rising in your throat. You’re not sure what it is that you’re seeing, even in the brightness of your phone’s flashlight, dropped and forgotten on the floor beside you. The wound still looks to be fresh, dyed in such a deep shade of red that it almost appears black and more tar-like than it does blood. You’re shaking as if you had been doused by cold water, not being able to comprehend the severity of it, the sheer size of the abrasion alone made it just look like one, big gaping hole.
Just…Just what on earth could have done this to him?
It felt like an eternity before your eyes dare to meet Jimin’s but when they do, you’re startled to find that he had been watching you the entire time through half lidded eyes, the light of his crimson irises now nothing more than that of a dying candle. Without thinking, you’re reaching out to him, not knowing whether to comfort, aid or simply anchor him down somehow, afraid that at any moment he’ll just vanish and there’s nothing you can do about it.
To your shock, icy fingers brush against your palms, making goosebumps erupt along your arm before they wound around your wrist again, this time in a loose hold to halt your movements. The touch is gentle, apologetic in the way he caresses the sore tendon with feather-like strokes for something you yourself had completely forgotten about, so trivial compared to what Jimin had gone through.
“Don’t…” He whispers, straining from the effort alone. He’s trying so hard to keep himself awake and it only makes you more anxious, leaning closer to him, even if it sounds like he wanted you to stay away.
“W-What happened….” You manage to choke out, eyes frantically searching his for answers. “I-I don’t…I don’t understand….I—Why—“ Your voice cracks, pitching with hysteria. “Please Jimin, tell me — tell me what to do please! Wh— Where’s Jungkook?! Tell me how to find him! He can—”
“No…!” Jimin’s harsh tone cuts you off, followed by a pained groan. Alarmed, you see him try to push himself up on his elbows and immediately your arm shoots out to steady him. “I-I just…need to r-rest…”
His voice trails off before suddenly his body falls back, completely going limp. The vehement protest dies on your tongue as you rush to catch him instead.
Your cries of his name go unheard, lost to the pattering of the heavy rainfall outside with the storm showing no signs of stopping.
-
Consciousness creeps back into the demon with the sounds of his steadily beating heart — a shock really, because Jimin was sure that apparating such a great distance in the weakened state he was in would be the final push he needed in order to finally kick the bucket.
His lids feel heavy, head pounding in tandem with his heart but somehow not as bad before, allowing him to peel open his eyes to vaguely make out the texture of your plain white ceiling. In spite of his body still feeling sluggish, Jimin is lying comfortably, aware of the plush pillow under his head, the soft mattress and cotton sheets he’s nestled in, a welcome change from constantly waking up on the floor. He takes a moment to relish in the warmth and the scent of you, mind still much too foggy to think of trying to sit up and so he lays there, lamenting on the events that seemed like they took place during the last few weeks rather than a mere few days.
When Jimin had arrived to your place, he had been so disoriented with himself that he didn’t even know where he had ended up, wondering whether he had successfully teleported himself back to the same country you were in, let alone your room. What he did know however, was that he had indefinitely depleted whatever remains of his powers he was able to summon completely, leaving him even more vulnerable and exposed than when he had first awoken but all he could do was fall back into unconsciousness again.
Which was why the sight of you had been so overwhelming for him, a sigh of relief from all the uncertainties and fears that had manifested itself in his subconscious for the next time he would open his eyes (if he opens his eyes). But all of it was short-lived as he had watched the colour drain from your face, body tensing and eyes widening in horror —
At him.
He didn’t need to ask why, already seeing the red of his irises that had glowed so vibrantly that he could see them reflected in your own glossy ones.
An unavoidable side effect, one that he should’ve anticipated but had simply slipped his mind because….Well, he wasn’t thinking at all at the moment. So he doesn’t hold anything against you for reacting the way you did — he just wished that it still stopped the pang of hurt that had shot through his chest when you did. A grimace pulls at his lips at the memory; he wanted so badly to turn away and hide himself, not wanting you to see him like that ever but he had had no strength and so what’s done is done. His jaw clench, mentally cursing himself for being so careless and now he loathes, dreads the thought of facing you.
A faint rustling pulls Jimin out of his self-deprecating thoughts and he turns slightly to the noise, eyes landing on the very being who haunts his every waking thought.
You’re asleep in a chair that’s been pulled up beside him, head resting on top of your folded arm that’s placed on the remaining bed space. Already, Jimin can tell that you’re going to wake up with a sore back, wondering how it’s possible that you can even sleep in such an uncomfortable position but when his gaze drifts to your face, he begins to doubt any fitful sleep you may have had. Your brows are furrowed like all of your troubles have followed you to your dreams and your breathing too quick that Jimin thinks you will wake at any moment. Loose strands of hair fall messily across your cheek, the tendrils nearly obscuring his view of you yet look so soft that his fingers twitch to brush them away. He’s surprised that they do, as if they have a mind of its own but even more so when he finally feels a weight placed atop of his hand.
Your fingers are curled around his own, so much warmer against his cooler skin that he fears yours will eventually turn clammy if you continue to hold on. He should pull away but your touch is a comfort he didn’t know he needed and he can’t help but to linger a little longer, tentatively sliding his hand until his palm meets yours, traitorous thoughts wondering how your hand would compare against his. At the last second however, the movement disturbs you and you rouse from your sleep with a startled flinch, like you had not meant to have fallen asleep in the first place.
Jimin stills, not wanting to frighten you any further as you blearily regain your composure, one hand coming up to rub at your eyes tiredly before they automatically drift to meet his own.
A soft gasp falls from your lips, nearly leaping to your feet as your eyes wide in surprise at seeing Jimin awake in front of you. He stares at you in an almost cautious manner, the burning crimson glow no longer present and instead his irises are back to soft brown hues. More importantly though, the wound marring half of his face had healed completely, leaving not even a trace of a scar behind. To your shock, the tear had mended itself slowly over the course of the two days you were tending to Jimin. You didn’t understand at first but you had worked it to being something relating to his demonic powers. Either way, you were glad to see because it meant that he was recovering, you not knowing where to even begin helping an injured demon.
He’s still much paler than you would like him to be, but him being awake is more than enough for you. It makes you hope that this isn’t a lucid dream you’ve created out of wishful thinking. So before you can stop yourself, you reach a hand out uncertainly until they cup against the smooth apples of his cheek and like a heavy weight being lifted from your shoulder, you sigh out, relieved.
“Hi…” You whisper, so quietly you think he might not have heard it.
Jimin blinks slowly, a myriad of emotions flitting through his eyes before he rasps back, “…Hey…”
A watery smile breaks out across your lips along with a shaky laugh and you fight the tears that threaten to spill over. Jimin catches on before you can try to hide them, brows furrowing before he strains to sit upright.
“Hey, don’t push yourself already…” You reprimand, hand moving to his shoulder to steady him.
“It’s fine…I’m fine…” He assures but you’re not entirely convinced, catching him wincing even as he manages to lean back against your wall. The sheets slip off his torso then, exposing toned abdominals and lean muscles in all its glory. Your cheeks heat, having completely forgotten that you had removed his shirt in order to assess any underlying injuries along with the fact that the luxurious chiffon material had been completely ruined. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw how his arms and torso were littered with dark bruises and gave you a better look at his hands which had been stained black, as if dipped in ink, from the tips of his fingers to his forearm. Now, you’re glad to see that they too, for the most part, have disappeared. But injuries aside, what had also caught your attention was a tattoo, etched so delicately into the skin on the left side of his built chest.
You’re not as surprised to find that it’s of a circled pentagram, tilted on an axis with unrecognizable ruins inscribed at each point of the star. Within the negative spaces were images of what you think was a crescent moon, smaller pentagrams and other symbols that remind you oddly of Wicca ones overlapping within the star, the ink fading in and out in certain places. It makes you wonder if at some point, they had been more prominent.
“My eyes are up here you know.”
Your eyes snap up to his, not even realizing you had been giving him a once-over but in spite it being all out of pure worry for his health, you still feel like you were caught eyeing him lasciviously by the way his lips curl ever so slightly. You bite your lip, averting your gaze self-consciously, heart thundering and squeezing with a flurry of mixed emotions.
“That’s not— I wasn’t…”
Your hand retracts from his, choosing to curl them closely on your lap and almost immediately Jimin regrets his thoughtless comment.
“Sorry, that was — that was very tasteless of me….” He says while scowling at himself and lowering his head, almost shamefaced. “I’m sure all of this was a big shock to you…”
You perk up, the tone in his voice catching your attention by how subdued it sounded. While yes, you did agree that the events leading up to this point had completely blindsided you and put you in a situation where you’ve never been more afraid in your life but not for the reasons Jimin thinks.
You don’t miss the implications he had behind his words, and you bristle at the audacity of his assumptions.
“Well, yeah.” You say, voice sour and shaking from restrained agitation. “After not seeing or hearing from you for days, I wasn’t exactly expecting you to show up in my room, unconscious and dying on my floor. Just what — “ You stop yourself then, noticing your rising volume and take in a deep breath, calming down enough to ask the one burning question that had been plaguing your mind, almost pleadingly, “What happened Jimin?”
His dark eyes flit to yours momentarily before they avoid them, a hand coming up to run through his now raven locks. The strands were a little damp at the ends, remnants of times where he had broken out into cold sweats while he was unconscious and then heating up so suddenly like he was running a fever. It had happened so often that you had kept a cold towel by the bedside, pressing it to his burning skin in hopes of alleviating the discomfort. You don’t think you had slept those nights.
“…Just had a bad run in with things cherub — completely my fault, but nothing to worry about.” Jimin sighs out, licking dry lips. His answer is vague and clipped, less than satisfactory for you and it’s all the more obvious that he’s done it to avoid the subject altogether when he immediately follows with, “How long have I been out for?”
Your mouth opens, words of resentment ready at the tip of your tongue but then something in you makes you pause. You hesitate as self-doubting thoughts begin to brew, clashing with your worries yet not wanting to come off as overbearing. You hate pushing someone for answers when they clearly don’t want to talk about it, the feeling mutual with yourself, coupled with the fact that Jimin is also someone who’s very capable of handling himself (you’ve witnessed it firsthand multiple times). It does nothing but add to your current dilemma. You’re chewing on your bottom lip when you feel eyes on you and you realize you haven’t responded to Jimin’s question. He waits patiently, face carefully neutral but the fatigue still evident on his features makes you exhale in a heavy sigh, deciding to let it slide for now and hope that he would come around eventually.
“Two days.” You supply, watching as he takes in the news before he blinks in realization.
“If I’m right, then you’re leaving tomorrow for the concert.”
You mirror his expression — the concert. That had been the last thing on your mind ever since he came back.
“..Oh, yeah…I—I guess so.”
“I’ll send your flight details and tickets to you, along with your hotel.”
The nonchalance in which he says that unnerves you a little, making your gut constrict the same way it would when you get a bad feeling about something. It doesn’t sit right with you that Jimin, who’s barely been awake for an hour, is still so adamant on seeing your trip through when here you are, actually toying with the idea that maybe….
“…Maybe I shouldn’t go…”
It comes out small, timid but Jimin’s eyes are upon you almost as soon as you uttered the words.
“What are you talking about?” He asks incredulously. “You can’t seriously be talking about giving up seeing BTS right now, are you?”
“I— Well, yes I might actually? I mean, you’re in no condition to move, much less travel. It’s too risky for the both of us.”
Jimin pauses before he laughs, a short, breathy sound as he cocks his head at you. “Is that what you’re worried about? Oh cherub, you’re so sweet.”
You sputter, cheeks flushed and ready with an indignant reply when you see Jimin’s expression morphs into something softer, a sort of fond smile ghosting over his full lips as he continues, “As much as I appreciate your concerns, you don’t need to worry — I can assure you that, as with any demon, I heal fast. This was just one of the worser encounters I’ve had in a while.”
Your apprehension must still show on your face because the next thing you know, he reaches over and gives you a pinch on one of your cheek, sending your heart tumbling over itself. The gesture is quick but it leaves you effectively stunned in your seat.
“I’ll be fine by the time we need to go, so don’t say something you know you’ll regret. Now stop pouting and get to packing your bags already.”
When you pull yourself together, you find yourself incapable of resisting any longer, the butterflies in your stomach overrunning all sense of logic in you. With a stubbornness of a fifty year old man who doesn’t want to admit he’s wrong, you muster up just about the only thing you can get out from your quickly short-circuiting mind.
“….Jerk.”
-
With the help of Jimin’s nagging, you manage to pack decently enough so that you’ll survive away from home for the weekend. It was a process, filled with a lot of bickering yet strangely, it had been a welcoming distraction to you rather than an annoyance — an attempt at returning to some semblance of normalcy between the two of you from a rather scary event. Of course, you still wanted to know why Jimin had shown up so injured, but his growing liveliness had you believe that perhaps it’s not as a big of a deal as you make it to be, or at the very least, it muted the anxiety in you for the time being.
You busy yourself well into the evening but when you had returned from the bathroom after packing most of your toiletries however, you find to your dismay that Jimin had left with only a simple text message attached to two plane tickets, flight details and hotel check-ins.
“Sorry to have left without telling you, but I figured I should probably leave you to finishing up on packing and not risk getting caught by your roommate, unless that’s what you want to imply ;)
(You almost threw your phone out the window and k-word him yourself).
Don’t worry, I’m not going off to do something dangerous again — just wanted to stretch my legs is all. Anyways, I’ve attached your plane tickets, hotels and flight details with this message. It’s an early morning flight, so you should rest while you can since well, it must’ve been a rough two nights for you.
(Damn straight, you huff but your chest involuntarily squeezes anyways).
I promise I’ll see you at the terminal tomorrow okay?
Sweet dreams and… thanks.”
With that, you throw yourself face first into your pillow, letting out an anguished screech because what the fuck.
You hate this, hate how much of an effect he has on you but more so, hate how you know that, even if you try to resist, he’ll somehow still linger. If not as thoughts in your mind, then as the scent in your sheets.
-
His composure breaks like a rubber band pulled too taught the moment he’s away from your place. Jimin deflates, shoulders sagging and he rolls his neck uncomfortably, trying to loosen the muscles that are still too stiff for his liking. He hadn’t exactly lied to you about demons being really fast at healing from any injuries they might’ve sustained, but he didn’t exactly disclose one rather important detail.
Undergoing this ‘guardian angel’ process had seem to stunt his demonic powers, that much was obvious. Though the injuries he had were quite serious, demons like him would have recovered at least fifty percent of their powers within the time he had been resting (or unconscious).
He feels like he’s stuck at about twenty-five.
There’s an imbalance within him that he’s acutely aware of and it makes him feel uneasy. It’s like he’s still a demon and yet not at the same time, which seems impossible to even fathom but it’s the only way he can describe it.
Regardless, he doesn’t like it. Not one bit.
Jimin grunts, abruptly pulled away from his brooding thoughts by a force colliding into his side. His eyes narrow instinctively from the disturbance as they zero in on the culprit, meeting a pair of startled hazel ones.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The young woman hastily gasps, holding up her hands in a placating manner. Jimin’s scowl falters momentarily, taking in her face and vaguely he thinks he recognizes her from somewhere. Was it the cafe he always visits? Or at a bar somewhere?
Ah, wait. It was at the department store you work at. She’s your co-worker, Emilyn, Emmy…. Whatever her name was, the one who he swears he had enthralled into working double time for you some weeks ago.
He dismisses her with a roll of his eyes, not sparing a second glance back as he takes off again because he really cannot be bothered. He intends on heading to a place where he can drown himself in some good whiskey and then maybe, maybe he’ll be in a better mood to figure this shit out. With all that he’s been through, he thinks he damn well deserves to treat himself to something nice.
Once he reaches the upscale bar, Jimin all but collapses into the bar chair, half slumping over the black marble counter, head in his hands. He’s thankful that the bartender wordlessly places a glass of whiskey by him but Jimin had secretly wished he had just given him the entire bottle. Still, he supposes beggars can’t be choosers at this point and he takes the half-filled glass and downs it in one go.
“Satan you’re alive!”
The glass slams down a lot harder in his mounting agitation, causing micro cracks to splinter up along the sides but that doesn’t stop the younger demon from straight up gawking at him like he came back with two extra heads and horns. Jimin glares at Jungkook with a look that could kill, eyes a muted red and aura so dark that the small crystal chandelier above them flickers briefly. Still, Jungkook remains relatively unfazed, leaning back if only to regard Jimin properly.
“Or I should say ‘barely’, you look like absolute shit.”
“You have exactly five seconds to give a good reason for being here before I discorporate you to fine ash and send you back in a mason jar.”
“I’m here to celebrate your survival of course! That’s something to be happy about, yes?” The younger demon demonstrates by waving down the bartender who responds back by presenting him with a tall glass of beer. He grabs it in toast, grin so cheeky it borderlines mocking as he says,”To you brother, the first of our kind to survive the holy baptism!”
Jungkook’s much too cheery demeanour is darkening Jimin’s already foul mood, jaw clenching and nostrils flaring as he exhales. It’s obvious now that Jungkook is well aware of the state Jimin is in, otherwise Jungkook wouldn’t even be as cocky as he is now. A blow to his ego, but one where he would have to swallow his pride because as painful as it is, Jimin needs answers and Jungkook is the only one who would have anything remotely helpful at this point.
“Cut the bullshit; this is hardly celebratory when I feel like I’ve already got one foot through death’s door.”
Jungkook sips leisurely at his drink before he places the glass gently down with a satisfying smack of his lips. “That’s something you should expect when you had to do the things you did. Like I said, the process was never meant for demons because of the extreme amount of holy magic that’s involved — a sure death sentence to any who dares attempt it so for you to come back and relatively in one piece?” He pauses to whistle, genuinely impressed, “That is no small feat brother and for that, you have my exponential amount of respect.”
“But I still have my demonic powers. It’s weak but it’s still there and I’ve done everything you said so shouldn’t that make me a guardian angel already?”
“Well, you are,” Jungkook’s shoulders come up, dragging the last syllable out in a dramatic stall before he directs Jimin with a wry smile, already bracing himself as he takes in a breath before saying, “after you go through the trials.”
A beat passes.
And then an explosion of glass breaks the silence, causing the bartender to flinch from where they stood serving another patron at the other end, some nearby heads jerk to the noise but almost immediately turn away at the mere sight of Jimin alone.
The demon is absolutely fuming.
“There’s more?!” Jimin is up on his feet, towering over the younger as he roars, eyes burning. “And you didn’t bother to tell me, why?!”
“I didn’t think you would survive!”
Jungkook frantically holds up his hands, shrinking back in his seat and for the first time since they’ve sat down, a little frightened at the sheer wrath his senior exudes. The raven haired demon grits his teeth, lips pulled back into a frustrated snarl before he falls back into his seat again, head falling into his hands as they dig into his hair. He’s not sure if he can take much more of this mentally or physically, that one burst of rage alone had left him feeling more drained than anything. Maybe this is why no demon had attempted to transition back into a guardian angel before, aside from facing an imminent death — there were way too many hidden clauses.
“What other possible thing do I have to do to get a bloody badge of honour in the angels scout; sacrifice a lamb?”
“Oh you know, just your usual run of the mill trials to prove your will and faith to Him.” Jungkook supplies unhelpfully.
“Have I not proven my will and faith already.” Jimin growls in contempt, a low and vicious sound past clenched teeth. His knuckles bleed white from how hard he has them curled.
“Might want to watch your temper brother, it won’t do you any good if you wish to complete these tests.” A pointed glare directed at the younger has him flinching back, hands shooting up again in defence. “Sorry! But you know how Heaven is like — they’re big on the whole trials and tribulations thing. They don’t just want anyone joining their ranks.”
Jimin lets out a long, slow breath, trying to ease away the tension in his body only to no avail. He feels the incoming headache, can already feel how much worse it’s going to get from here on out, but he’s come this far and to quit now would not only be a waste, but a betrayal to his cause. So swallowing thickly, Jimin resigns.
“What do I have to do then?”
Jimin hates the pitying gaze Jungkook shoots, albeit briefly. He knows that the younger doesn’t understand why he’s putting himself through all this but that’s not what matters; as long as Jungkook can provide him with the answers he needs, Jimin doesn’t have to explain himself. As though sensing his resolve, Jungkook gives one last meaningful look before he sighs.
“Seven Acts.” He says, pauses, and then corrects. “Or I should say six, seeing as your stunt with poppet was, quite literally, your saving grace. Regardless, you must complete the others in redemption for all the things you’ve ever done only for yourself.”
“How comforting.” The reply is dripping with sarcasm.
It felt like an added weight has dropped onto his shoulders and all Jimin could do was accept it, shutting his eyes as it bears down on him. His hand instinctively reaches for his glass of whiskey but stops halfway once he realizes all that remains of it is bits of broken shards and lets it fall uselessly to his lap.
“It is the final task you must complete, and only then will Heaven acknowledge you.” Jungkook takes the time to slide his half empty beer towards Jimin though the older demon doesn’t reach for it. “It’s crucial, but even more so now because of what you are so be warned that if you give them any reason at all, the slightest slip up, they will show you no mercy.”
There’s no way that Jimin can refute that statement, even if Jungkook hadn’t said it outright. Still, the reality of it leaves him feeling a little numb, and so he remains quiet in his seat, lost in rampant thoughts. Jungkook watches his long time friend for a while longer, an amalgamation of his own emotions running through him as he takes in Jimin’s much more pallor face, the darkness that’s beginning to form under his eyes and the lethargy of his movements. A part of him doesn’t like seeing Jimin in such a way, a duller version of the person he used to know, such a strong and capable demon reduced to this.
And all for you.
A heavy sigh leaves Jungkook, the only response he can give because in truth, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Jimin has made his choice, had taken one step down the road where Jungkook had strayed and can no longer follow. In a sense of finality, he rises from his seat, preparing to take his leave.
“And this, I’m afraid, is where we must part ways. The path you have chosen to take is one where you must go on alone, bear your own cross. There is nothing more I can do for you here, brother.” He strides, stopping beside Jimin to rest a hand on his shoulder. “This might be the last time we’ll see each other. I would wish you well but….” He shrugs, almost too indifferently. “I’m not quite sure what will become of you.”
When he gets no response, Jungkook chews his lip before he gives one big pat and adds, “Hey, on the bright side though, you’re already one act down so what’s six more? Maybe if you live through this all, I might have to prostrate myself to you.”
Jimin finally can’t help but to softly chuckle, gazing up at Jungkook with a hint of fondness and no offence taken. “…Thank you, Ezazel.”
The younger demon cringes, shooting back a half glare.
“….It’s Ezzor now.”
Jungkook hates to see him like this, doesn’t completely understand why he would do this but another part of him, deep down, hopes that for all it’s worth, Jimin won’t end up regretting any of it.
-
Jimin sits for a while longer, his thoughts tumultuous as he nurses a new glass of whiskey. The bitterness of the alcohol intermingles with the shit storm that he’s found himself in. It was a lot to process, way more than what he had signed up for but through it all, he’s boiled it down to two things.
One, he was royally fucked.
Not only did he have to take a sip of holy water but now he has to essentially complete seven good deeds? That’s like asking an angel to commit murder on an innocent. It’s a whole load of bullshit if anyone asks him. But Jungkook was right — he shouldn’t even be surprised at this point anymore. As much as he loathes it, he has no choice but to play by their rules now if he wants to become a guardian angel.
Which brings him to the second, and most concerning thing for him; will he be able to continue his duty as your guardian effectively? On top of a new set of hurdles, Jimin has to deal with the dramatic reduction of his powers. Simple things, such as teleportation, used to be a second nature thing to him but now, they leave him with an uncomfortable strain on his body, like sore muscles after a long workout the next day. If things like that puts a strain on him now, he wonders, quite morbidly, what would happen if he attempted something that would require even the slightest bit more power?
Perhaps your worries aren’t so unwarranted after all, but that still doesn’t mean he’ll admit to it. He’ll just have to be more careful and cautious.
Eventually, Jimin leaves the dim bar, stepping out into the night with the mind to wander a little more aimlessly because there’s only so much downing three bottles of whiskey can do for him before he gets tired (and quite frankly, bored). Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he takes off in a direction, not caring where the street will lead him. The saying goes that there is no rest for the wicked but at times like this, Jimin really wishes he has the ability to sleep… Or at least, knock out from over drinking.
The blaring horn of a passing taxi pulls him from his thoughts, shoulders tensing briefly before Jimin blinks in realization. His walk has taken him to the busier and livelier part of the city, an array of people still out in the generously mild weather, some walking along the strip to enjoy the sights while others take advantage of the many sidewalk patios the restaurants have to offer. Neon signs and large street lamps litter the streets, providing well lit pathways and adding to the effervescent atmosphere, enough to draw out even the naturally reclusive.
Across the busy intersection were much more high end boutiques and fine dining establishments. The one his eyes settle on is a restaurant, a lot more sleek and modern compared to the mostly hybrid bars and restaurant lining his side of the street with not one, but two levels of patio seating; one on the sidewalk and another above that had a glass panel stairway leading to it, all bordered off with frosted glass and black metal railing. It’s lit prettily with large paper lanterns in oblong, curvy shapes, displaced in-between two to three tables. The patrons occupying said tables appeared to be dressed more sophisticated from what Jimin can see and it automatically makes him assume that the place was meant for those who want to enjoy some fine dining.
But the decor and luxurious appeal wasn’t what had caught his attention, as his eyes drift upwards and he spies a familiar face, just peeking over the railing in the signature all-black server uniform.
It’s Elaine…. Or Emelie…
Fuck, whatever her name was.
It was your co-worker, the one who he had enthralled a week ago before he left for his business trip. It was odd finding her there of all places, but then Jimin recalls having bumped into her earlier in the evening and connects the dots that this was probably where she was heading off to; a second job. Without thinking any more on it, he brushes it aside, continuing his stroll in an attempts to get some peace of mind.
-
The night was long, but even longer when you’re working as a server and your shift often run way into the early morning hours of the next day. One can argue that the tips make it worthwhile but sometimes even a hardy tip won’t make up for it all.
Especially when it’s coming from a literal human dirt bag.
It was just her luck to be stuck with a table full of frat boys, only they’re extra snobby and entitled because they’re mooching off of their parents’ money. Granted, it’s not the first time she’s dealt with these sorts of people (it practically came with the job description) and working in this line of customer service, everyone’s developed thick skin to help them through it.
Emily’s no different, having worked this job for as long as she had, only it begins to grind on her nerves when the guests are persistent with their advances.
“So when are you gonna tell me there’s a secret menu that includes you on it?”
Things like those were usually followed up with a greasy smile that sent her skin crawling. It was one of the many things that she wished she didn’t have to hear throughout the night but the sad part is it wasn’t the worst. And when she sees one of the managers step up to politely inform the table that they needed to pay their bill as the restaurant was beginning to close, she knew that this night can, and probably will, get ugly.
So by the time she clocks out, Emily is more than a little on edge. She leaves the building, headphones in and a stride like a woman on a mission — get the fuck home without having to bust out the pepper spray hidden in her bag.
She rounds the corner from the side exit of the restaurant, coming out onto the street. She makes it about a block before she spots him.
“Hey server girl.”
He breaks away from his group of friends, striding up to her from where he had his car parked beside the curb and blows out a stream of smoke from the vape pen he has in his hand. Emily cringes at the strong smell of artificial blueberry invading her nose. Instinctively she takes a step back to put distance between her and him, her shoulders taut with tension and stance already defensive. The asshole from before doesn’t take notice and continues talking anyways.
“Me and a few buds gonna hit up a club just nearby, why don’t you come along and maybe earn a few more extra tips.”
She hates the way he says that; the insinuation that she’s willing to put out for some few extra dollars, made even worse by the fact that she’s working a second job only because she needed to make ends meet. “Sorry but no thanks.” Emily grits out, eyes narrowed and without giving another time of day, she begins to walk around him, only to be back up once again from him side stepping to block her way.
“Hey, hey what’s your problem? I’m offering to show you a good time, there’s no need to be so difficult.”
She’s starting to feel like a cornered prey as every time he comes in too close for comfort, she takes a few more steps back. Subtly, Emily’s hand that is clutching her bag slowly begins to sneak into it, hands searching desperately to feel the familiar weight of the small cylinder can. She doesn’t have half the mind to care what other shitty things that spew from this guy’s mouth, more so focused on trying to find an opening and make a run for it.
“And I said no as an answer. No one is being difficult here.”
Her stomach churns unpleasantly as panic rises within her the longer her hand comes up short. She swears she always leaves the can inside her bag at all times so where is it?!
The man’s face in front of her slowly morphs into an annoyed scowl, clearly frustrated with her rejection because knowing him, he’s always gotten what he wanted.
“Listen I’m being nice here and I don’t just invite anyone to hang out with me.” He puffs up a little, prideful in the way he says all of this as if she’ll be impressed and change her mind. “If it’s money, I can pay you however much you want, probably way more than what you earned tonight anyways.”
Vision red, Emily finally lets her temper get the best of her even though provoking someone who can easily overpower her may not be the best course of action but she’s had had enough. “I don’t care about how much money you have, just leave me alone!”
Her rising voice catches the attention of all the wrong people as she sees his other three friends begin to make their way over one by one, no doubt coming to back him up. She’s breaking out into a cold sweat now, every muscle in her body tense but then finally, finally, her frantic fingers grasp at cool metal and as she goes to pull it out —
“Hey assholes, can you piss off out the way.”
For a situation that was about a hair away from becoming a crime scene, Emily didn’t imagine that it would all come to a screeching halt by the sound of a smooth dulcet voice, rising above the chaos. And neither did said group of assholes as all eyes turn to the new arrival. She takes the chance to as well, out of sheer curiosity of who this well-timed interruption could be and when she sees, she’s absolutely floored.
The man was gorgeous.
The sparse lighting coming from the scattered street lamps did nothing to deter from his beauty — flawless skin, sharp jaw, dark raven hair pushed back off his forehead with loose strands falling over and giving a clear view of hooded obsidian eyes, staring unimpressively at the group. He’s dressed so plainly compared to the guys harassing her; dark jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt, the ends tucked in to show off a belt buckle and accentuate his cinched waist. They might not admit it aloud but Emily could swear that everyone is entranced by this newcomer, something about his aura is so otherworldly and yet so commanding, like he’s got everyone wrapped around his fingers and all he had to do was blink.
Something that asshole #1 here picks up on, and immediately does not like.
He turns away from Emily momentarily, face stoney as he steps up to this handsome stranger who, despite the Chelsea boots he’s wearing, is much shorter than he was. She can almost see him gloat at the fact.
“Hey man, why don’t you mind your own fucking business yeah?”
Oh trust me, he would, Jimin thinks, rolling his eyes so hard they ache. He had walked about three blocks down before deciding to make his lap back up or else he would’ve ended up on the other side of town. In that time, he’s cooled off and mulled over ways on how he’s supposed to go about completing the task he’s been thrusted with, wondering if they need to involve you in any way or the scale of it like, what qualifies as an act? And how will he know he’s done one?
He thinks he would’ve gone on forever until he drove himself crazy had he not heard a piercing indignant shout coming from across the street he was on. His eyes wander over to the noise, a little perturbed at the disruption and finds what he can only describe as a pack of wolves cornering a lamb. Jimin had shook his head, completely indifferent because what’s new and was about to walk away when he catches sight of the girl. Almost immediately, he can feel the headache as he groans.
For fuck’s sake.
It just had to be her because what use is she if she’s dead. And so here he was, back at square one.
“I’m in a bad mood, and I don’t think you want to ruin that Gucci jacket of yours. So why don’t you go fuck off to some two-star club and stick your cock into a soda machine.”
The man’s nostrils flare, anger twisting at his features as he stalks up and grabs a fistful of Jimin’s shirt, yanking him by the front as he tilts his head down, snarling.
“You think you’re about to do something here, you fucking twink? Cuz I’ll make you suck your own cock if you don’t fuck off.”
He feels his friends coming round to form a semi-circle behind the man, trying to further intimidate Jimin and Emily helplessly watches on, scared because even though she’s grateful that he had drawn their attention away from her, she by no means wanted it to be at the expense of his own safety. The hand in her bag shifts from the pepper spray bottle to her mobile phone, ready to speed dial 911. But when her eyes draw up to Jimin’s face, he was the picture perfect of calm and collected, unfazed by the threat that had just been spat at him.
In fact, he seemed more bothered by the hand that’s clutching his shirt. She sees him raising his arm, places his own hand on top of the other man’s and then in an even tone, she hears him say, “Well now, I gotta fuck you up.”
There was a yell but it didn’t come from the ethereal man and then in the next second, Emily had to scamper back when three bodies go hurdling to the ground. Her gaze immediately whips up to Jimin and is shocked to find that he’s got the other man pinned down, one arm locked behind his back in a kneeling position with his face pressed uncomfortably in the pavement. She can’t keep her mouth from falling open, gawking at this bizarre scene in front of her.
“Why’d you have to go and ruin everyone’s fucking night with your dumb cunt mouth?” Jimin laments aloud, sounding exasperated as his head is already beginning to pound and putting him in a worser mood than before (if that was even possible). He ignores the writhing and muffled cursing coming from beneath him as he grips the other man’s wrist, holding him in place with little to no effort. He feels the delicate tendons beneath his fingers and the prominent bone just begging to be cracked.
It’d be so easy.
Unconsciously, his grip begins to tighten and the increasing pressure draws out a strangled yell from the man, his pleas coming out in a garbled mess but all that does is tempt Jimin even more. Maybe this is the pick-me-up he needed tonight; the satisfaction of breaking a few limbs, the thought of it already sends a sadistic shiver running through him. What better way to test his limits now than on this low-life. All he needed to do was to squeeze just enough here —
Then he feels eyes on him, making him glance up briefly and they meet her’s — wide and trembling with fright.
Oh shit.
He’d completely forgotten about her and the moment of clarity makes him hesitate, feeling like he’s the deer caught in the headlights. A beat passes with them just staring at each other before Jimin finally pulls away from the haze of madness that overcame him, loosening his hold on the man enough for him to break free, scurrying away like the cockroach he is. The rest of his friends begin to come to from having the wind knocked out of them, limping away with their tails between their legs as they all push each other out of the way to clamber into their expensive sports car.
They speed off, blowing through a red light as Jimin straightens, running a hand through his hair tiredly. He looks over at Emily who’s remained frozen in place throughout the entire thing, phone clasped in her hand and still very much on edge.
“Why don’t you do all of us a fucking favour and take a damn Uber.” Jimin gruffly says before he lumbers away without another word more.
After a minute, he faintly hears a shout of thanks behind him.
It gives him pause, bristling before he continues on. Once again, he’s left to his own thoughts and slightly irritated again that all he wanted to do now was find a place where he can hide and be unbothered for the rest of the night. Your place naturally comes into mind but he thinks it’s not appropriate to show himself, especially not when he still feels… less than put together.
As he considers his options, something begins to creep up inside of him — something that numbs him, starting from the bottom of his feet and traveling up until he struggles to keep pace, forcing him to stop as he doubles over. He’s suddenly short of breath, vision blurring but it peaks once it reaches his head, transforming into a searing pain.
Jimin lets out a sharp cry, hand shooting to his head as if to hold it from being split open, teeth gritting and eyes screwed shut as it wracks through him. There’s a ringing in his ear that nearly deafens him along with a burning sensation along his shoulders but as quickly as it had come, it vanishes, leaving him gasping in the middle of the street.
It takes a moment for Jimin to pull himself out of his daze, beads of sweat rolling down his neck before he inhales deeply and composes himself back on shaky legs.
Well, he thinks, taking a few more deep breaths and then slowly, starts on walking again. If that wasn’t a sign that he did something right, then he doesn’t know what is.
Guess that means two down, five fucking more to go.
As the saying goes, misery loves company now that you’ve officially joined the ‘can’t go to a BTS concert’ club but you find company in probably the last person anyone would think of (even if he thinks you’re the one possessed by a demonic entity).
Related works: see masterlist under guardian demon!jimin au
Continuation of Thirty Second Heartbreak
A/N: And so the ball starts rolling.... (SORRY FOR THE WAIT AS PER USUAL TAT!! But I still love you~)
You're met with silence, which is a bit surprising coming from him since he always seems to have a sassy comment ready to dish out. You spend the time finishing up on typing your message before you finally put your phone down and your eyes naturally stray over to him. The first thing you see is just how confused he looks, the most you've seen him – one perfectly raised eyebrow, eyes scrunched and the corner of his full lips slightly downturn; the image almost manages to crack a smile on you.
Right when you're about to voice your own confusion, he asks. “So what of it?”
The heavy sigh escapes from you before you can stifle it, already feeling the weight of your post-concert depression except you haven't even went yet and the slightest tinge of annoyance for Jimin's tactless question.
“Well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not made of money and even if I were to go, the cost of the tickets alone is a lot already but now I have to take into account for travel and a place to stay.” You explain, tapping back into your group chat to also continue this conversation there too. “Also, even trying for a ticket is hard in itself; my friends and I were lucky to score some the last time they were here.”
“Then why not try again? You can always split costs for travel and hotel can't you?”
“They're pretty much tight on money too.”
You hear him scoff lightly, cocking his head to one side still very much not understanding your point. “I thought you were pretty much dedicated to BTS, ready to drop the ball for them the moment they announce anything.”
“Not like I don't want to go! It's just...” You feel your frustrations begin to boil over; frustration for not having your city included in the stops, for having restraints like distance, time, money, and that no matter how much you even (theoretically) try to work out a plausible plan, it still wouldn't work. “There's too many strings I need to pull, and not just on my end, to make this work.”
The words pained you even if you were the one who spoke them. They don't stop the dull yearning in your chest that had settled there, only making it worse, to the point where your friend's joke about 'YOLO-ing' it for this concert is looking more and more enticing as you reply laughing to it. Alas, the logical side wins you over at the end of the day, the need for sustaining yourself in the long run and upholding responsibilities smothering out the more impulsive side of you that flares up at the most unexpected of times.
“It's fine.” You say after a while, more to yourself you think than it is for Jimin who's been observing you quietly from the side. “The trailer said that there were 'more dates to come', so I'm gonna put my faith that they will come.”
“Because in BTS we trust?” The demon snorts and the underlying light-heartedness of his tone in the comment successfully tickles a small smile out of you.
“Yeah,” You laugh lightly, “In BTS we trust.”
-
He says that, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's not as okay as it seems. Days pass by from the initial announcement of the tour, you go on about your life as if everything is fine, like the dog sitting in the burning house type of way.
Jimin still doesn't quite understand your logic in any of this. He gets you've got other commitments in life (school and work) and also money hesitancy, but...this is BTS we're talking about – the one thing that brings joy to you and for all the times you've proclaimed your undying love for them, you choose to pass up the opportunity to actually see them? Because of, what he thinks, are materialistic reasons? What if this was your only chance for another two-three years? He only thinks this because he's honestly seen people with way worse odds against them and yet the minute they get the chance at something they want, they jump on it, money and responsibilities be damned. Impulsivity, the very core to the folly of humans in the best way he's seen it – caused by giving in to the temptations of their own poison, their own kryptonite and often times, lead to their own demise.
He cocks his head again, lost in thought; you're so confusing because by all means you should've done the same; be blinded by your love in pursuit to chase that temporary high, only to crash and burn afterwards in dealing with the consequences. But here, logic wins over your heart's desire and willingly you suffer under the pretense of blind faith instead.
Ah, he thinks in realization, is this simply you choosing between the lesser of the poisons?
He catches a smile creeping up at the corner of his lips at the possibility. Interesting...
“What are you smiling so dreamily to yourself? Thinking about setting a poor sap on fire?”
The ghost of a smile instantly vanishes at the sound of another presence and Jimin's face quickly takes on a more irritable one.
“Yes, in fact, I actually had you in mind.”
“Oh dear brother, you're going to have to do better than that.” Jungkook sidles up to the older demon, plopping himself down on the edge of the building he's found the guardian on. The night air is still cool, but seeing as there is no wind to be felt it made sitting outside pleasant, even more so with the view of the city lights illuminating from below. But Jimin is not here for the view, never really has been while Jungkook on the other hand, is here to pick apart his mentor and friend's brain. Jimin's blasé response to Jungkook's follow up all the more intrigues the young demon because that's a clear sign that something else was on his mind. Something more important and he's willing to bet money on what that could be. So he waits, bides his time to see if he'll crack. It pays off.
“Humor me,” Jimin's smooth lilt breaks through the silence, the only other sounds were the bustling of cars passing by below, too faint to be a disturbance to the two demons in their own world atop of another. “If one was given the chance to see the one thing that brings them joy, with the prospect of probably never seeing them again, would you still forgo your responsibilities, even if they'll most likely lead to your demise in the long run? Or do you not, instead, live a stable life but suffer for an undetermined amount of time on the what-ifs?”
Jungkook straightens up, the metaphorical throwing him off a bit. To be honest, he wasn't really sure what he was expecting but nevertheless, he's willing to take a whack at it. Who knows, it might lead to some more telling things. Crossing his arms, he answers after giving it some serious thought.
“Depends on what one values.” Jungkook responds vaguely enough. “If desire and satisfaction rules above all else, then indulging in ones joy even at the cost of your demise in the long run is but a small matter.” He pauses, tilting his head much like a puppy, as a thought comes into mind. “What's that expression mortals like to say? Curiousity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back? Makes you think they rather prefer acting on impulse than to go through a slow death of not knowing the possibilities from trying.”
Jimin goes quiet again in contemplation; from Jungkook's answer, even he eludes to the fact that humans would naturally fall into that sort of trap – just like how Eve did with the snake and the apple in the Garden of Eden. But then there's you, who's brain triumphs over your heart even when presented with your figurative apple.
“Why do you ask, brother?” Jungkook speaks up after the silence becomes too unbearable for him. “Last I remember, you're not much of a riddler type.”
He doesn't get an immediate answer and it further prods at the younger demon's curiousity. So his mind starts to race, pulling up information he already knew and piecing them together in hopes of coming up with something coherent. Jimin has always been aware of the weak will of humans, ruefully laments on them in fact, for making his job as a demon very lacklustre so why would it get him all hot and bothered now? Come to think of it, he's hadn't had a thrill since meeting Jungkook and....
The light bulb goes off in the brunette's head and his face does not hide his eureka moment. Jimin is immediately suspicious.
“What's with the stupid look?” He asks, eyes narrowing.
“....this is about Y/N isn't it?”
“Wouldn't you like to know.”
“So it is. I knew it!”
“I didn't even say it is!”
Jungkook makes a knowing hum in the back of his throat, noise rising in pitch with thin lips curling at the edges to give his cheeky grin a very bunny-like quality. It takes everything in Jimin to not smack the younger upside the head but with much effort, he settles with rolling his eyes hard and shaking his head, turning away to gaze out at the city instead.
“Has something come up recently with Y/N?” Jungkook persists however, doe eyes wide and leaning into Jimin's personal space. “Did you two get into a philosophical argument? Clashed on morals?”
Jimin remains determined to ignore him, and Jungkook could feel his eye twitch at his friend's stubbornness. So he decides to switch tactics; do the one thing that'll get on the older demon's nerve in one second flat: make absurd assumptions. Leaning in closer for dramatic effect, Jungkook whispers scandalously, much like a gossiping housewife.
“Has she committed a sin?”
The reaction was instantaneous.
“W-What?! What are you even talking about?! Of course not!” Jimin sputters and it brings indescribable joy to Jungkook to see him so flustered (a very rare sight). He can't help the bark of laughter that has his head tipping back but quickly recovers to placate the older demon so that he doesn't end up ditching him with no answers to his odd behaviour.
“Okay, okay then what? You seem awfully troubled and I could only guess it has something to do with your darling of a charge.”
The glare sent his way could kill, dark eyes flashing dangerously red before they flicker back to their muted brown. Jungkook puts his hands up disarmingly, watching the other demon release a heavy sigh while running a hand through his faded midnight blue locks. Jimin stares unseeingly out at the cityscape for a moment longer before he gives in.
“You know how Y/N loves that boy band of hers', BTS right?”
“Oh yeah, the ones who's faces we borrowed, not to mention her room is a reminder of it in our every waking moment and we don't even sleep. Why?”
The corner of Jimin's lips pulls up without resistance in the way Jungkook answered the question, like he was asked what the colour of the sky was. His big doe eyes stare at Jimin, blinking perplexedly.
“Well,” The older demon starts, rolling his head to one side to deliberately drag it out. He hates having to confide in someone, it goes against a lot of his demonic nature but then again, he's currently working as some mortal's guardian now so he can't exactly say this is a first – but that doesn't mean he still doesn't dread every second of this. With a heave of his shoulders, he spills, “They're doing a world tour right now and one of their stops is in the area.”
Jungkook's eyes grow impossibly in size at the news, mouth dropping open in shock and surprise. “Holy shit! I bet Y/N's freaking losing it right now! Is that what's this is all about? Did you tell her she can't go 'cus she's broke or something?”
“Quite the opposite actually.” Jimin cuts in sharply, deadpan. “She's decided not to go because the stop isn't exactly in the city but a few hours bus or plane ride away and something about not having friends agreeing to go, even after the fact I said I was fully expecting her to go too.”
That makes Jungkook pause, completely taken aback. So much so that it makes him zone out and at any moment, the X-Files theme music will start playing in the distant. Jimin looks on in disbelief, not really sure how to react but definitely knows that he's having a hard time keeping a straight face. Finally, after it seems like Jungkook's returned back into his vessel, he snaps.
“That's ridiculous! How can she not go see them?! This is her life's work! Has she lost her mind?! Are you sure we're even talking about the same person here?” He says it all in one breath, eyes still so piercing that Jimin leans back with a concerned furrow of his brow.
“Don't ask me, ask her because I would like to know too.”
“You're right, I should. There's just no way.” Jungkook nods to himself, abruptly standing with a fierce determination that Jimin had to thank his supernatural reflexes once again to be able to stop the younger demon in time from bursting through your room at five in the morning.
-
It becomes even more painfully obvious as the first days of the tour comes around the corner. Jungkook probably (read: most likely) made matters worst by doing what he couldn't do the first time he heard the news of you not going out of your way to any of the tour stops; ask why in the seven hells you're not doing it. After having to explain to him about how being a broke college student, knee deep in debt (and climbing), working at a part-time, minimum wage job will probably have you end up on the streets before you can say 'BTS', (and Jimin throwing a warning fireball shot at his head) he drops the topic.
But the salt has been rubbed into your metaphorical wound and you're still feeling the burn, as much as you don't want to admit it. It's not like you haven't been to a BTS concert before, in fact, you had gone the previous year. In hindsight, there are many fans who wouldn't even have the slightest chance ever of seeing them for a number of reasons; you're blessed enough to have them in your country at all. But BTS, oh BTS, when you're in deep, it's deep. You don't think you can put into words how happy they make you feel, how they became something more than just a K-Pop band you follow because they have great music (bonus that they're all ethereally beautiful, inside and out), how much they influence your life in small ways that cause a bigger effect. It may seem ridiculous to other people, but for those who don't understand won't see how they helped you re-connect with old friends you never thought you could be close with again, comfort you in your hard times with their songs and letters, and helped remind you that you're doing great even when it doesn't seem like it.
They're the ones who tell you the things you need to hear the most.
A heavy sigh escapes you before you realize, and it seems to make your whole body sag. You're on your last few weeks of the semester, crunch time and exams are looming over your head and instead of studying, all you can think of is how you're not living your best life right now.
“That's the fifteenth time you've sighed.”
You throw a halfhearted glare behind you where the demon stands, back leaning against the closed door with his arms crossed coolly. You only let out a grunt in response, turning back around to stare vacantly at your laptop screen, trying to force yourself to read through your online textbook chapters and go through Powerpoint slides on God knows what anymore – the subjects are all blurring together at this rate. You've also have given up on colour coding your notes along the way, finding it too troublesome to switch between the different coloured pens and highlighters you have so needless to say, you're on your way to failing your exams.
You don't even pay any mind when you feel Jimin's presence creep up beside you, your desk creaking at the added weight caused by him pressing his hips into it to peer down at you like a house cat wanting attention and is thinking about sitting on your keyboard to get it.
It goes on for a few minutes but after reading the same two sentences again for the fifth time, you let out a loud, ragged breath, dropping the pen you're holding and letting your head fall forward.
“What do you want?” You ask tiredly.
He doesn't reply right away as if giving the answer some thought before he says in a very deadpanned voice, “You look awful.”
You shoot him an unamused side glance that's devoid of any real effort, picking up your pen to twirl it distractedly in between your fingers as you slouch further in your seat, practically wallowing in your misery. “Yeah, well that's what having five different exams to do within two weeks will do to you. Now, be a dear and leave me alone to die.”
You hear a quiet snort but you really do have half the mind to actually ask him to send you to literal Hell if it means that you'll get out of having to write these exams. You're pretty sure that having your limbs pulled and set aflame will be much more painless than this. But alas, as if reading your mind, Jimin saunters away without another word, footsteps quietly receding and you're surprised he listened.....Or he really is leaving you alone to die a slow and painful death. Damn, there goes your chance.
Looking back at your screen has you wanting to bash your head against the desk and though you really want to just call it a day, you need to get this chapter finished. So after a few more mental pep talk, you haul yourself up begrudgingly to start reading through the paragraphs of texts again.
You make it about three pages away from the end when you're pulled out of your tunnel vision by a hand reaching over to place a mug of steaming tea in front of you. It takes you a second to let the image settle into your mind but once you process that Jimin had went and got you a cup of tea in a small gesture to ease your stress, your eyes immediately trail up to who it belonged to, slightly widen at the realization. When you meet his own gaze however, your face begins to warm.
He quirks one perfectly shaped eyebrow at you but otherwise, his face remains passive. It makes you feel silly, with your racing heart and shaking eyes struggling to remain focused on him. In moments like these, you can't hide behind the facade of being annoyed by his teasing, letting you become just a tad bit too vulnerable in front of him. It makes you not know how to act which makes you fumble and make a fool out of yourself. You hated that feeling, so you shy away, dropping your gaze to the mug of tea and hands reaching up to cup the ceramic with a murmured thanks.
You miss the way he stares at you for a moment longer, just taking in your slightly disheveled hair, the way your shoulders slouch, eyes drooping and the mindless doodles that litter on the pages of your notes, having long lost their focus on the subject at hand. He watches as you delicately hold the mug up to your lips, giving a steady blow to cool the liquid inside before taking your first sip. A soft hum of approval escapes you and already Jimin can see the drink easing your tired body and mind. It's only then that he turns away, letting his head roll back towards the ceiling. Jimin lets you have your moment of peace, letting the companionable silence take over. His eyes drift over to your bedside clock and seeing the time reaching into the early morning hours has a small smile tugging at his lips. It seems you two always had a habit of being in each other's company during these times, but perhaps given the nature in how you met, it's only fitting.
Turning his head back to you again, Jimin finds that you've made it halfway through your mug of tea and decides then that it'll be in your best interest to head to bed.
“You should sleep. It's getting late.”
“....But I need to finish this chapter.”
Even as you go to protest, Jimin can hear the drowsiness in your voice as well as the reluctance to continue. He shifts his body to face you, towering over you as you peer up at him with a slight pout to your lips. Honestly he doesn't know why you're so adamant on pushing yourself like this when you're clearly very tired but a part of him does respect you for your tenacity.... Or he should say stubbornness. Either way, he can't have you fainting all because you choose to bypass sleep but furthermore, what kind of demon would he be if he's not tempting you into the more self-indulgent things in life.
You instinctively shrink back from the demon when he leans down slightly, letting one hand rest against the back of your chair. You watch with trepidation as his dark, alluring eyes roam over your face in an almost calculative manner, and the way the light of your desk lamp makes them glimmer as well doesn't help the growing suspicion you have that he's up to no good. As you swallow nervously, you see from the corner of your eyes his free hand reaching up to the tea mug you have clenched in your hand still, prying it away from your crushing hold with relative ease.
“Now, Y/N....” Jimin's voice flows out like velvet honey – rich, smooth and dulcet, like a Siren's song drawing you in, powerless. Vaguely, you had the thought that Jimin was using a bit of his demonic powers to enthrall you into submission but another part of you argued that you're still very much aware of your surroundings, of what he's doing and that perhaps, to your utter astonishment, you're willingly allowing it to happen; maybe going as far to say that you enjoy it.
You register the gentle way he places the mug onto the desk, never once breaking eye contact with you before you feel the ghost of his touch along your shoulder, nudging you so that you swivel towards him. Your body reacts, goosebumps erupting and as you see him lean in just a hair more, your breath catches in your throat. You watch, hyper aware as his pillowy lips part and he whispers huskily.
“Why don't you be a dear, and come to bed....”
God yes, the words were right at the tip of your tongue, mind unable to distinguish between meaning the bed or something else entirely, but you would've embarrassingly said it in the same way as someone who just got asked if they wanted to eat a plate of the creamiest chicken Alfredo....for free.
But Jimin, Park impeccable timing, the Biggest Tease™ Jimin, knows when exactly to leave you high and dry because the next thing you know, you're being hauled upwards and the swooping sensation of your stomach dropping like you're on a roller coaster kicks your muddled brain right back into fight or flight mode, starting with an undignified cross between a yelp and a loud, choked gasp escaping from your lips. You're jostled into his arms, limbs flailing between trying to reorient yourself and slapping a hand over your mouth to prevent you from waking up Jaehee (and possibly your neighbour). Jimin takes it like a champ, stupidly well-coordinated and steady throughout it all (even has the gall to snigger at you) as he nonchalantly turns to deposit you onto your bed.
You bounce with a squeak but immediately shoot upright, grabbing the first pillow you touch to smack him with it, only the weight and momentum don't add up for an effective throw and instead, Jimin gets a light pat that barely puts a wrinkle in his luxurious black, lace-up collar, tunic shirt (probably made of Egyptian cotton). He makes a show of that by dusting off the spot where the pillow had hit, unperturbed.
“What is wrong with you!?” You hiss indignantly, red in the face. “I'm not a sack of potatoes! Don't – !” You cut yourself off to chuck another pillow at him, this time it flies upwards to his face but he catches it midair. Clearly, you're proving yourself not to be the most athletic but at least you stopped the snide comment that was about to leave his mouth. Unfortunately, the sly smile is still on his face when he lowers the pillow, casually fluffing it as if you had voluntarily given it to him and he's graciously accepted to do it out of the kindness of his heart.
“Now, now my darling Y/N, I know it's past your bedtime so there's no need to throw a tantrum.”
“I'm not a child, Jimin.” You snap back, eyes narrowing on him. “I need to finish my exam notes tonight so I can start on making other notes on my other exams.”
“You can do that tomorrow.”
“I literally have three pages left!”
“Exactly.” He says, plopping the pillow back at the head of the bed. “It won't take you that long. Besides, I can't have you sabotaging my way to getting into the good graces of heaven just because you decide to pull a quick one on me.”
That made you raise an eyebrow. “Good graces...? Oh, right.”
You completely forgot about that; the whole point of Jimin being here. Now that it's been brought up, Jimin's good track record, by the looks of it thus far, meant that he was well on his way to getting let off the hook for...whatever heinous crime he committed against heaven. The thought suddenly has your mind spiralling with questions.
“Are you like expecting their letter of approval some time soon or what?” It slips out before you can really think about it. The demon only gives a noncommittal shrug, tossing the first pillow you threw back onto the bed from the floor.
“Who knows – we never know what heaven is up to half the time. Nevertheless, I'd rather not take any risks so,” He redirects the topic back to you and your deplorable sleep schedule seamlessly with a pointed look, “we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
You scoff a laugh at that, crossing your arms,“You just said you weren't going risk your perfect track record and now you're threatening me to sleep?”
“Oh cherub, I didn't say I was going to use physical force to make you sleep you know.” Jimin smiles with a tilt of his head, making his fringes fall lightly over his eyes....that were beginning to glow red; at first dimly before gradually becoming more luminous. An immediate chill washes over you, your initial stubbornness shrinking back down by ten notches and unease takes over.
“I can simply ask and you would listen.”
Before you can ask what he meant by that, you hear another voice whisper in the back of your, lie down.
Soon you feel your own body seize up and against your will, you're lying back on your bed. The only thing you could do is stare up in shock at Jimin who shoots back a smug smirk.
“W-What did you do to me?!” You whisper shout, voice cracking when for the life of you, you find that you can't get yourself to sit back up or move any of your limbs for that matter.
“Your mind is in such a worn and tired state that it's easy for me to take control, bend you to my will you could say.” He replies, matter of fact. Jimin blinks and the eerie glow vanishes along with the numbness of losing control of your body. You immediately do a pat down to ensure that that's the case and once satisfied, you shoot a hard glare his way.
“That's not fair.”
“It is doll; you could have easily stopped it but in your state, I highly doubt that.”
And being the dumbass that you are, you shoot up in retaliation (and maybe even out of pettiness), but is met with the same constricting force that had restrained you earlier. Jimin is unfazed, not a single hair out of place, one hand cupping his cheek with a sickly sweet smile staring down at your struggling form.
“We can do this all night darling; you know I don't sleep.”
A few more minutes of silent fighting with him no where near breaking a sweat and you about to sweat buckets, you let out a frustrated groan, letting go of the strain you've been putting on yourself in attempts to break free of his hold. It's then that he relents, your body automatically becoming loose against the mattress, too tired to even think about trying to lift a finger and it's with a belated scowl of annoyance that you realized you just played yourself.
“Sweet dreams cherub. You'll thank me later.” Jimin says a little too smugly. In a last ditch effort to getting the last laugh, you limply swing your arm at him, hoping to land an indignant smack to his person but as expected, he dances out of the way in time, giggling all the way.
-
Contrary to what Jimin said, you're not so thankful. Well....Sure, you did get a fairly well rested sleep but in terms of progress with your study notes....
“What are you doing?”
You minimize the window so that your digital textbook could be seen on the screen instead, going back to pretend like you were in the middle of writing down a note.
“Studying.”
“Right....” You hear him drag the word out as he saunters over to obnoxiously lean over you to reach your laptop. “And not, oh I don't know, scrolling through your Twitter feed to read everyone freaking out about tickets going on sale in half an hour?”
Jimin takes the time to click on your hidden window right at that moment to pull up the receipts. You swat his hand away, hitting with a satisfying smack but all he does is squeak a laugh as he pulls away and you're left red-faced in embarrassment anyways. You throw down your pen in order to rest your head in your hands, heaving out a heavy sigh.
“I can't help it....” You nearly whine. “It's stressing me out even when I'm not going to buy one anyways. Like I should be but I'm not and my mind is just screaming at me why?”
“You know what that is?” Jimin singsongs from his place on your bed, reclining back on it as if he owns it. “It's your gut telling you that you should.”
You shoot a glare his way. “If you think you can tempt me this time then no.”
He shrugs, turning his attention back on his phone. “Your loss.”
Minutes tick by and though you valiantly truck through half a chapter more, once the clock struck its half hour mark, you find yourself unconsciously pulling up one of the ticket web page (you know, just out of curiousity). As expected, the site is borderline malfunctioning probably from the rush of people on their server and on top of that, there's this new queue line setup that you have to go through before even getting to the seat selection screen.
You're currently behind 250 other people.
You feel dejected already, knowing that even if you had wanted to get a ticket, the chances of that are slim to none, just as you had predicted.
“Wow....what is that?” Jimin's breath brushes over your ear so closely that you jump at the sudden proximity. You run a hand over your face, trying to calm your racing heart before addressing the demon.
“It looks like a new queuing system to buy tickets, I guess to stop bots or something....”
“Huh, well shit.” He chuffs, “I'd say getting into hell is a lot easier than that, by the looks of it.”
You laugh dryly, watching the little running man on screen run as if his life depended on it but has yet to move even an inch forward (wow, story of your life). “Aren't you a demon? Don't you have some black magic for this kind of stuff, like cheating the system?”
He hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I can...”
You hate yourself for perking up at the idea, wide eyes following Jimin as he moves languidly back over to your bed. He takes his time to flop back and get comfortable, bringing an arm up to cushion behind his head while pulling out his phone before he notices your laser beam eyes. The sight causes his lips to quirk.
“There are some strings I can pull if you want the tickets that badly, but as with most demonic magic, it'll be at the expense of someone else.”
You deflate, brows furrowing at the statement. “Expense? How?”
“Simple – for you to get the tickets, someone else will lose their chance, no matter how good the odds were for them.” Jimin puts plainly, bringing his phone down. “So do you want to? Just say the word.”
He holds up a hand in a way that looks like he's about to snap his fingers, eyes faintly glowing in that reddish hue. You swallow, watching with morbid fascination that literally all it would take is a snap of his fingers and the tides would turn in your favour. You could have something to look forward to once all the stress of exams and a school year is over; the perfect escape to just forget about your worries for a while.
But you tear your eyes away, letting out a sigh that has you slumping your shoulders.
“No, it's fine.”
It wouldn't be fair, you'd rather try with your own chances and not have to live with the guilt of ruining someone else's because you so happen to have a demon to your advantage (you don't think anyone could say that in their lifetime). You know it'll eat you alive.
Jimin raises an eyebrow at you but acquiesces, lowering his hand almost disappointingly. He watches you close the ticket window and then go back to reading your textbook, the only sounds between the two of you is the scratching of your pen on paper as you take notes. After a moment more, Jimin huffs quietly to himself.
“You're no fun....”
-
You continue to read through your textbooks for the rest of the day, stopping only to eat and take few short breaks (snacking, getting a drink, showering etc). Even when you feel like you're not taking in any information by the time the sun has gone down, you stubbornly write down everything that might be of significance. As for your guardian demon, the last you saw of him was earlier that afternoon when he had offered to get the tickets by shadier means. You figured at some point he had gotten bored and wandered off to probably tempt more unfortunate souls around the city.
By the time you decided you've had enough and should probably head to bed in preparation for your first exam of the week, it was already half past twelve. You can only praise the sun that the class was at least an afternoon one. But in spite of that, you find that you can't fall asleep once your head hits the pillow and you've settled under your covers.
You toss and you turn repeatedly, trying desperately to shut off your racing mind. Of course, you think ruefully with your eyes shut tight but very much still awake, that the one time you try to be a decent human being and go to sleep early, your mind decides to have a crisis – asking unhelpful hypotheticals like 'are you sure you've studied enough?', 'can you answer this particular question right now if you're asked it?', or 'what if you'll never see BTS again for another three or four years? You're probably missing your one and only chance right now', 'hey, remember that one thing you did when you were sixteen? Man you're such a –'
“You know you'd make a very poor actress from the way you're pretending to be asleep.”
“I'm not trying to pretend.” You grumble, finally giving up and letting your eyes fall back open. As per usual, it takes a while before they adjust to start distinguishing shapes in the darkness of your room and from there, you see the unmistakable figure of Jimin by your door. You shoot him one pointed look before going back to stare aimlessly at your ceiling and after a silence passes between you two, you dejectedly admit, “I can't sleep.”
“I can see that.”
“Maybe it's the pre-exam jitters or something, like I feel like I'm gonna blank out as soon as I see the papers.” You find yourself ranting to him, maybe in hopes of trying elevate your worries or lull you enough to finally sleep. Either way, it has you feeling like you're in a psychology session with Jimin as your psychologist – which you should not have someone as a psychologist....or anyone for that matter. You run a hand down your face, refraining from groaning as you catch your mind racing with ridiculous thoughts again when you should SLEEPING.
You feel a dip in the bed and you don't need to look up to know who it is.
“Humans are so easily troubled by their own minds....” You hear him sigh. “I'm sure you'll do fine.”
You huff one back in return,“As if you – ”
“Like I said cherub, you're funny but not dumb. You're just getting in your head again.” Jimin says this as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. You're surprisingly touched by his words despite his blasé tone but you know by now how to read Jimin's sincerity. It warms your cheeks and makes you fidget with the sheets by your hands.
“....You're very bold to assume I won't totally bomb this exam.” You can't help deflecting. You feel him shift as if to shrug his shoulders.
“Well, when all else fails, you can bullshit your way. You're good at that right?”
A puff of air escapes through your nose, the smile threatening to overtake your face. You swat lightly at him, the back of your hand unfortunately meeting the bonier end of his knee. You immediately recoil hissing in pain. He lightly snickers.
“Sleep cherub.”
“I told you I can't.”
“Count sheeps then.”
The suggestion makes you crane your neck to give him a raised eyebrow and a face that clearly asks, ‘are you serious?’ When all you’re met is silence, you’re surprised that he’s actually serious. But you’re also getting desperate at this point, at your ropes end so you think, why not give a tried-and-true trick a go?
So you inhale deeply, then exhale steadily through your mouth, closing your eyes as you try to slow your breathing and picture a meadow with a little picket fence, where fluffy white sheeps are bound to hop over one by one in succession.
One sheep.
You try to let it become your lullaby, hypnotizing you to drift into a dreamless slumber.
Two sheep.
Three sheep....
Four sheep...
For a moment, you think it's working or...or maybe you're trying to fool yourself into thinking it's working and you just look silly. Actually, were you supposed to say ‘little’ before each sheep or...?
You exhale loudly, eyes coming open again. “It didn't work...”
Even Jimin lets out a quiet groan of his own, head thumping back against your wall. You feel him shift again and hear the light smack of his hands coming down on his thighs as he pushes himself off your bed. “Well, that's all I got.”
“W-Wait, I swear you have a spell for this.” You say, propping yourself up on your elbows. “The sleeping one you always do.”
You faintly see him halt in his steps, turning back to you with a hand on his hip. “Yeah, but it's magic induced sleep – it puts you in a deeper slumber than natural sleep and as a human, you're susceptible to becoming dependent on it.”
“Okay... Yeah, I get it, but....I'm asking you this time – just this once. I feel like I'm going to lose my mind at this rate.” You half plead. He goes quiet and you think he'll humour you by giving it some thought before outright turning you down. “I swear this will be the only time, you can even use enough to just make me sleepy....?”
Still, he remains quiet and you think that's your answer enough. So you begin to sink back into your bed, preparing to count sheep into oblivion when you hear him release a sigh, bringing a hand up to run it through his hair. Then, he turns back to you and you can only stare up in question.
“You owe me.” He murmurs under his breath. You blink, mind floundering for an appropriate response but it seems that Jimin didn’t plan on leaving any room for argument as he carries on to say, “Lie back.”
You involuntarily swallow but obey regardless, lying back fully and getting comfortable. In all honesty, you understand where he's coming from, having already experienced the magic induced sleep spell a total of two times but....you really need this, even the groggy after effects can't stop you.
Jimin stoops to take his seat on the empty space beside you again, only this time, he positions himself in a way he can hover over you. The faint glow of his eyes is the only thing that helps you get an idea of just how close he is to you, along with the soft caress of his breath against your lashes and rapidly warming cheeks. You wait with baited breath, nibbling your lower lip out of nerves. It makes him let out a breathy chortle.
“Relax, you're making me nervous.”
You snort unattractively, eyes darting off to the side as you mumble under your breath. “You shouldn't be talking....”
Jimin doesn't say anything in reply, though you know he's probably smiling to himself and it's only when you feel a gentle hand cupping your cheek does your gaze snap back to his, body freezing up instinctively. He patiently waits until you're used to his touch and though it takes while, you eventually feel yourself loosening up, as if his gaze has you spellbound. Jimin senses the way you once tense body relaxes and he takes it as a cue to prepare the spell, eyes glowing a little more vividly as he whispers the magic words.
“Now, sleep.”
The last thing you feel is the feather light touch of Jimin's thumb caressing your cheek as you gladly let the familiar hazy cloud swallow you finally into your much desired dreamless sleep.
