Love-like | Kth. Oneshot

October (MYG x F!Reader) - Oneshot

Pairing: Min Yoongi x F!OC/Reader

Genres: interns!AU, heavy heavy heavy ANGST (you have been warned), sfw

Warnings: ANGST (did I say that already), a story about love that’s not a love story, some cursing, mentions of traumatic accident and brain injury/coma, mentions of hospitals and medical issues, mentions of life support and end-of-life-care, mentions of miscarriage, sadness and just generally people being assholes (including Yoongi), MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, please be kind to yourself and don’t read if any of these things make you uncomfortable or sad (your wellbeing is valued and important)

Word count: 8.3k

Summary: Yoongi can’t remember his life before the fall. He doesn’t want to either - being with you while the mugunghwas bloom is enough.

A/N: Hi everyone! Putting this out there that this is probably the longest (and angstiest) thing I’ve ever written, and I cried a lot while writing it. This story is based on the Bollywood movie October, which is single handedly one of the most amazing films I’ve ever seen in my life. This story deals with heavy topics (read at your own discretion), but I really tried my best to use my healthcare knowledge and some research to make this an honest portrayal. I recommend reading Being Mortal by Atul Gawande if this topic interests you more. Honestly, it was a journey for me to write this, and although it’s very sad, I’m really proud of it, and if you choose to read it, I hope it speaks to you in some way. Also, big thanks to Suzie (@lcksndkys) for beta-reading this and helping out on the medical side of things (she’s the best, pls give her a follow)!

November

“Hello, welcome to the Signiel, how may I help you today?” your chipper voice cuts through the din of the hotel lobby, a warm smile lighting up your face.

“Yes, can you tell us what’s good to see in your city?” The man’s accent is foreign, but kind. He seems genuinely in awe of the posh decor that surrounds him, and the subtle chill emanating from the sliding doors as they woosh open and close.

“Ah yes, there’s so much to see in Seoul! There’s Gyeongbokgung Palace, the Samsung Museum of Art, Namdameun Market…,” you drone on, sharply aware of a pair of cat-like eyes gazing at you from the corner of the lobby.

Your fellow intern Yoongi is there, mopping away at the already pristine marble floors, likely cursing his entire existence for accepting this internship. As interns, you expected you’d be in charge of greeting guests, taste testing the house specialties and coordinating events.

However, the menial tasks were a surprise. Sweeping floors, doing laundry, flushing toilets. Most of the interns, including you, took it in stride. Yoongi, however, was different.

Your eyes can’t look away from him as you watch him furiously mop, back and forth, back and forth, so hard you think he’ll knock the dirty bucket of water over and Manager Im will have his head.

Eventually his movements slow, coming to a complete halt. He lets out a deep sigh, the rich baritone of his voice cutting through the monotony of voices and travelling to your equally tired ears. He’s turned away from you now, instead staring wistfully at the beautiful grand piano tucked away in the corner, its pristine facade reflecting every tiny moment happening in the lobby with immaculate detail.

Glancing back towards the guests, you muster up another smile and offer them their room keys. When you look up again, Yoongi’s gone.

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The clinking of champagne flutes and the echoes of footsteps can be heard as you prepare for tonight’s event. A wedding - one of Seoul’s richest CEOs marries its biggest social butterfly.

You remember reading the groom’s name in a magazine somewhere, and now it currently dwells at the back of your mind. Kim Taehyung? That sounds familiar.

Banishing the intrusive thoughts of handsome Mr. Kim from your mind, you turn back to the task at hand. Napkins should be perfectly folded, not a single crease visible, and the edges should be neat and even with one another. Flowers go in the specific order indicated on your index cards, and candles should be placed in the center of the table, far enough away from the edge that they don’t fall and burn the whole place down.

As you finish placing the last flowers on the table, you’re rammed into by someone. The petals scatter to the ground, the petals creating a large mess where a sophisticated centerpiece should have been.

“Shit, sorry, I-. Here, let me help you,” the person groans out, ennui evident in their listless tone.

“Hi Yoongi! How are you today?” you greet him, carefully bending down and tenderly picking up each stray petal. The mugunghwa flowers feel soft in between the pads of your fingers, their smell light and sweet.

Yoongi lets out a sharp grunt of acknowledgement, as he hunches over and desperately shoves the flowers back into your hands, like a man possessed. As the last bloom finds his way back to you, he nods and makes his way towards Manager Im standing all the way by the stage.

Trying your best to refocus your attention, you catch the faint wind of their seemingly unpleasant conversation from where you stand.

“Need off on the 30th and 31st -- parent’s anniversary -- silver jubilee.”

“Hotel at full occupancy -- should know better -- go get a haircut and stop bothering me please.”

“Fucking fine, keep me here to do your dirty work, then. All I’m asking for is a job that’s worth my qualifications, you know, like the fucking degree I’m supposed to be getting for this?”

You wince at Yoongi’s last comment, knowing the words ring painfully true yet no one else is brave enough to voice them. Manager Im doesn’t bat an eye, ushering Yoongi away with a sweep of his arms and moving on to another part of the room.

As he huffs past you to leave the room, you offer a weak smile Yoongi’s way.

“Thank you for your help picking up the flowers again, Yoongi! I’ll see you later.”

Shoes tapping against the marble, he lifts his head but doesn’t turn as he makes his way out of the ballroom, failing to spare a single glance in your direction.

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December 31st

“You know what your problem is Yoongi? You’re constantly annoyed,” Yeri drawls, scowling as the whipped cream topping her coffee drips onto the ground.

You swing your legs from side to side on the curb, avoiding eye contact with Yoongi as he pushes himself out from underneath the hood of your car.

“You know why I’m irritated? It’s because I’m constantly surrounded by you two,” he gestures to you both and scoffs.

“Yah, don’t tell me you’re annoyed about me calling you irritating,” Yeri’s voice goes shrill as Yoongi flips her off, slinging his bag around his shoulder and walking over to his motorbike.

“Thank you for the oil change Yoongi!” you shout, but your voice is drowned out by the whirring of the engine as it fades away, the bike zooming down the road and away from you both.

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Tinsel and fairy lights shimmer along the vast hallway as Yoongi vacuums the carpet that is now full of glitter from the guests’ merrymaking. Despite the cheery exterior scene, the inside of Yoongi’s headset is blaring Seo Taji and the Boys, not Deck the Halls.

He’d unceremoniously landed himself in hot water with Im again, his frustration getting the best of him. Not surprisingly, Im had retaliated by putting him on cleaning duty the one night he knew all the interns were having their holiday party.

Yoongi groans loudly, blinking his eyes and letting his mind travel. If just thinks hard enough, he can almost imagine the bass thumping outside, the clinking of glasses as the drunkest one in the batch gets up to make their yearly toast… he can imagine you, full of warmth and laughter, sparing a smile for everyone you come across.

Yoongi hates that he can’t hate you like he does the others. That you’re always asking him about his day, thanking him for doing the bare minimum when he could be doing more, appreciative of his mere presence when all Im and the others want is for him to get lost. To disappear.

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“Yah, Namjoon, why are you on the ground again, are you drunk?” Yeri screeches, trying her best to lift up the gentle giant of a man who’s made himself at home on the grass by the pool.

“Druuuunk onnnn youuuuu babyyyy!” Namjoon shouts with vigor. Namjoon’s candid behavior has you smirking to yourself, thinking how nice it is to see the kind, reserved intern let loose and enjoy himself a little. Yeri seems to be enjoying it too, a faint blush coloring her cheeks despite the grimace on her face.

“A toast,” Seokjin, the broad shouldered senior intern exclaims, “to another year gone by!”

“Happy New Year!!” The chorus is loud and raucous.

Glasses are raised and hors d'oeuvres consumed, the golden lights twinkling in the night.

“Seokjin, another drink?” Yeri reaches out, offering up a beer in her hand.

“Nahhh, I’m okay,” he counters. “Besides, gotta drive home with Yoongi at the end of the night, you know how it is.

“Come to think of it,” you ponder. “I haven’t even seen him, where is Yoongi?”

You hoist yourself up onto the railing, dizzy from the effects of the alcohol reaching your head.

You feel the wet, slippery dew drops against your fingers and suddenly, nothing.

Slipping through space, the air whooshes around you as you fall, staring up at the sparkling lights one final time before you hear a loud thump and everything fades to black.

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“Patient is in acute respiratory distress —- I’m having trouble finding a pulse --- might need intubation,” the static crackles through the radio.

Yoongi was slumped against the hallway, eyes closed. Lost in a dream world of allegros and sonatas, he’s jolted awake by the jarring dissonance of a wrong note. Blearily, he rubs his eyes, but the note remains prolonged, piercing his eardrums.

It’s a siren. His pupils dilate as the bright red lights hit them. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi doesn’t know when he started running, or how, just that he’s skirting on death’s edge, skipping stairs two at a time, making his way down the emergency staircase to the ground floor exit.

He’s greeted with the sight of Manager Im, face blanched and brows furrowed, speaking to a police officer.

“Her name is ___. She fell from the third floor swimming pool, but normally no one goes there.”

The officer nods along, jotting Im’s statement down on a notepad, and it’s then that Yoongi turns and sees the blood.

A pool of it, and you, in the middle. Before he can even think, EMTs are strapping you in and lifting you onto a stretcher.

“Current status, 23 y/o F patient who will need mechanical ventilation, sedated, no movement. Pulse 110”, the voice blares through the megaphone.

All Yoongi can do is tremble, Seokjin coming to wrap an arm around him. He watches the ambulance as it drives away, wondering where and when everything decided to go so wrong.

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January 2nd

The fragrant perfume of gochujang and crackling of oil permeates the air as Yoongi pulls up to the tteokbokki stall, shaking out his windswept helmet hair from the frantic drive over.

Seokjin gives him a pitiful glance, Yeri and Namjoon both avoiding eye contact.

Yoongi decides to speak up first. “Dude, you could have told me what happened that night.

“Yoongi, I called you. I must have left at least 15 messages.”

“Listen up, interns,” Im sneers. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, okay? Not until the police report is complete. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes Manager,” Yeri and Namjoon answer monotonously, Seokjin nodding along.

“Min,” Im says, “here’s an extra entry pass. Go and see her, and report straight back to me afterwards.”

Yoongi gapes at the keycard Im hands him, unsure of how to breathe.

“Yoongi,” Yeri breathes out, struggling to hold back tears. “Go and see her. 3rd floor, neuro ICU, bed 28.”

Yoongi steps backwards. One step. Another. He feels as though he’s dragging his feet through a pool of quicksand. If he doesn’t get on the bike, he wouldn’t be able to go to the hospital. He wouldn’t be able to see ___, broken and bruised. He would be able to pretend that nothing had happened, that everything was normal, that you’d pop up out of nowhere and say “Hi Yoongi!” with that wide smile of yours.

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“Dr. Sungchul Kim, please report to the cardiology department.”

The loudspeakers are garish and blaring, befitting of a circus rather than the serious, sterile institution Yoongi finds himself in.

Yoongi thought the behind the scenes of the hotel was the most depressing thing ever, but he was wrong. The white walls and the smell of antiseptic taunt him, reminding him of the way these walls act as a prison for lives barely hanging on. Lives like ___’s.

As he approaches the ward, he can make out a haggard looking woman with kind eyes, conversing with a police officer towering over her.

“___ was a good girl. She would never drink alcohol so recklessly, and all her friends at the hotel were such good influences. I know my daughter. She didn’t just fall, someone pushed her.”

“Ma’am,” the police officer starts, “I understand your concern, but we have to consider all possible options here.”

The officer’s conversation with your mother drifts away as Yoongi finds himself at the entrance of the neuro ICU. The guard gestures for him to remove his shoes and sanitize his hands.

Then, Yoongi is ushered into room #28 with a gust of cold air following behind him. He wonders if you were cold when you fell. He hopes not.

He tiptoes through the room, silent, as if one wrong footfall could wake any of the patients in here. People who sleep but don’t dream, don’t know when or if they’ll wake up.

At the end, towards the window, he stops and sees you. Small and frail-looking, bright spots of red and purple littering your entire face. They’ve cut off your hair, he muses. He remembers how you always used to wear it in a tight, neat bun, and how keeping it off your face highlighted your eyes.

And the tubes. There’s so many. Yoongi counts 19 in total, all hooked up to different machines and making their way into your body. He wonders what they’re all for, how they manage to keep you alive when you look anything but.

The nurse comes by to change your IV, and Yoongi feels sick. He’s an intruder, and he doesn’t belong here. Doesn’t deserve to be here. He turns on his heels and walks out of the ward, the monotonous beeping never leaving his head the whole time.

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January 16th

It’s hot and muggy in the apartment, the pressure cooker letting out the last bits of steam as Seokjin scoops out an even portion of rice, placing a perfectly shaped dome on Yoongi’s plate.

Silence was never an issue between the two of them, but now, it feels overwhelming. Like both of them have forgotten how to speak, forgotten how to live.

The days since the accident have all passed like this, in still and stagnancy.

“I still can’t get over how swollen her face was, and did you see all those tubes?” Yoongi’s voice is gruff, hoarse from days of no use, from keeping his head down and changing sheets and mopping floors.

Seokjin stares at him questioningly, wondering why Yoongi chose to broach this topic of conversation when they haven’t spoken in a week.

“I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me just standing there,” Yoongi drawls on.

“Is that why you never went back? I’ve been there twice already, you know. Namjoon has gone at least three times, and Yeri goes as soon as she gets off work every day.”

“I-, it’s not that, it’s the machines. They make it hard to concentrate,” Yoongi counters, feeling ashamed that while he was lost in a haze, his fellow interns were using their free time to visit the hospital.

“She asked about you, you know? Right before she fell. She asked, “Where is Yoongi?””

The same feeling of sickness from the ICU washes over Yoongi again, his breath heaving and palms becoming clammy. He wishes he could admit himself into the hospital too, maybe then he wouldn’t feel so guilty.

“Bro, something’s wrong with the food, it doesn’t taste right today” Yoongi starts, hauling himself up off the ground. “I’m gonna go to the tteokbokki stand and eat. You want anything?”

Seokjin looks up at him, cheeks full of food. “It tastes fine to me.”

“Alright then, see ya later man.” The door closes on a concerned looking Seokjin, as Yoongi makes his way out to the parking spot.

The cool air on his face has Yoongi feeling lighter, breathing easier, and he feels brave enough to detour from the tteokbokki stand and follow the green and white exit sign to Seoul National University Hospital.

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Inside, the ward air suffocates Yoongi once more, as he makes his way to room 28.

He sees your mother again, and another smaller version of you, trapped in yet another conversation, this time with the doctor. A sister maybe? He always thought you were an only child. Yoongi surprises himself constantly with how much he never knew about you, how much he could’ve found out if only he took a chance.

Passing by, neither of them fail to acknowledge the blonde haired boy making his way into ___’s room. Glancing again towards the end of the bed, he sees the same nurse from last time, clipboard in hand, recording your vital signs.

She takes notice of him lingering behind her. “Are you family?”

Yoongi shakes his head no.

“Her boyfriend then?” Another shake of his head.

“The other boy that was here, is he her boyfriend?” Yoongi’s throat tightens, but he somehow manages to croak out a no.

“Sir, if you don’t have a reason to be here, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I hope you understand, these are the rules.”

She beckons Yoongi out of the room. He turns and gives ___ one final wave, passing the two women on his way out, before being cast out into the frigid chill of the winter air once more.

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February

“Off again, Yoongi?!” Namjoon calls out, as the door shuts in front of him, and he and Seokjin hear the kickstart of the motorbike once more.

Yoongi’s been disappearing multiple times a week, firing up his bike and blazing through gas money. Somehow he always ends up at the hospital. Sometimes, he’s brave enough to go in and spend a minute, or five, or ten by your side. Sometimes he just lingers outside the ward, especially when he sees the nurse go on. Most of the time, he just sits outside on the bench, listening to conversations between the doctors and staff that work there. Yoongi would consider himself halfway to an MD based on the things he’s overheard sometimes.

Today, though, he’s possessed by the unknown urge to see you again. To check up on you. Maybe it’s based on the conversation he overheard last week between your mother and the doctor. About how you’re in a deep coma, and neither awake or alert. About how your case might be hopeless. He hears your sister cry, your brother (who he’d seen recently) with the doe eyes suck in a gasp, and your mother plead to give them some more time.

He wants to tell you that time’s running out, that you need to wake up soon or everything will be over. And yet, he wants someone to be gentle with you. To tell you that despite how hard it is, you can take all the damn time in the world. Just as long as you keep trying, keep fighting.

“Excuse me sir? This is a day pass.” The guard outside the hospital stops Yoongi.

“Shit, I-, I left my night pass at home. Can you just let me in please? I have to speak to someone, it won’t take long at all.”

“No entry without a pass, sir. Rules are rules.”

“Fuck, listen, I just need like five minutes please? I’ve been coming here everyday, they recognize me. I really need to speak to her.”

“No entry without a pass,” the guard becomes aggressive, pushing Yoongi away. Yoongi struggles in his grip, cursing out the guard with every breath, but he finds himself back on the curb, head held in his hands.

“Excuse me? I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re looking for a night pass. You can borrow mine.”

Yoongi stares up at the mellifluous voice, and does a double take. Kim Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung whose wedding he’d coordinated mere months ago. Before the fall.

“Are you sure you don’t need it?”

“I’m Kim Taehyung, I can get another hospital pass any time I want. My wife’s in the hospital for pregnancy complications. She’s staying for a few days, but I know she’ll be okay. That we’ll be okay. You, on the other hand, don’t seem so sure. Take it, please.”

“Mr. Kim --- Taehyung --- sir, thank you. Thank you so much. I hope your wife is okay.” Yoongi’s gummy smile shows for the first time in a long time, as he snatches the pass and presents it to the guard standing there with an astounded look on his face.

Kim Taehyung watches the other man with a wistful smile. Give a life, save a life. He and his wife couldn’t save their baby, but maybe for the man with the gummy smile and the sad eyes, there was hope yet.

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“Hey. Hey ___. Wake up.” Yoongi whispers, flailing his arms around, trying to catch your attention.

He yearns to reach out and stroke the short spikes of hair that now adorn your head, hoping that a tender touch would jolt you to life.

“___, wake up please. I have something important to tell you.”

Yoongi feels the tears building up in his eyes, and he wants to fall to the floor from exhaustion. Working shifts at the hotel, then coming here and spending time with you. He wants everything to go back to the way it was before.

“You wanted to know where I was that day? The day you fell? Actually I was…. I wasn’t around. I wasn’t there.”

Yoongi chokes the words out, reaching behind his head to ruffle his hair and relieve the nervous itch that has built up in his bones.

That night, Yoongi sleeps on a bench outside, the bitter tang of tears and unspoken apologies clogging his throat.

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March

For the first time in months, Yoongi wakes up and heads to work on time. The hospital was important, but today, the hotel housed something even more important. ___’s car.

The abandoned red station wagon is parked in the same spot outside the hotel, collecting dust that flies away with each gust of the spring breeze.

“What do you need this time?” Yeri’s voice is clipped and harsh as she approaches Yoongi by the parking lot.

“Did uh, ___ ever talk about me? Like in college?”

“Are you kidding me Yoongi? That’s what you called me over to talk about?”

“Yeri, please! I need to know.”

“No, Yoongi! No! We had better things to talk about than your lazy ass! Why would she have cared?!”

“But she did Yeri! Why would she have asked about me before she fell? And none of you thought to tell me either! People’s last words are special, they’re not just something you can ignore!”, Yoongi is roaring, rage boiling in his veins.

“Look Yoongi, I really don’t think she was interested in you. You guys were too different. Now, if that’s all, both you and I should get back to work,” Yeri says icily.

“Fuck that, I’m out of here. See you around, Yeri.”

. . .

“Hey!” Yoongi gestures to the valet, pointing at the station wagon. “Do you have the keys for this?”

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Your mother is a professor, Yoongi muses. Another thing I didn’t know about her, he ponders to himself as he pulls the now shiny and sparkling station wagon into the driveway of your family home. Your mother steps out onto the porch, wide-eyed and shocked at seeing the familiar vehicle being driven by such an unfamiliar person.

“You’re the one from the hospital. How did you get our address?” her tone is laced with shock and surprise.

“My name’s Yoongi, I was one of ___’s fellow interns. I got your address from Yeri. I’m sorry for not letting you know in advance that I was coming, but I thought it was time to return the car to where it belonged.”

Tears fill the old woman’s eyes as she breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

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Everywhere Yoongi looks, baby pictures of you adorn the walls. You’re alone in some of them. In others, you’re accompanied by a mini you and a doe eyed boy. The common theme among all of them is that your smile is bright, eyes wide and filled with kindness. You’re happy. He’d never seen you any other way until the fall.

“Yoongi,” your mother calls out. “Please come and sit.”

She clears her throat, starting again. “Between here and the hospital, things have been so hectic, we forgot all about the car. Thank you for bringing it back for us.”

“You know,” Yoongi speaks, startling everyone at the table. “When I was a small child, I fractured my left arm. It should have healed in three weeks but it didn’t. I thought I’d never be able to play piano again. But eventually it healed. In the same way, ___ should have been okay by now, and she’s not. But she will be. She just needs a little more time.”

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April

The underside of ___’s bed has become a familiar place to Yoongi. Every day, he checks the bag filled with yellow fluid underneath, using it as his one sign that ___ is still alive.

“Nurse, isn’t her urine output a little more than usual today? What could that mean?”

Nurse, unfortunately, has never warmed up to Yoongi in the few months they’ve known each other.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Yoongi flashes his teeth and lets out a gummy smile. “You’re right, I actually do have something I need to do. Bye, ___. See you soon.”

The little girl is anticipating Yoongi’s arrival in the waiting room. He plops down on the seat next to her, and pulls out a book from his bag.

“How much longer until your mom has the baby?”, he asks.

“I don’t know,” she whines. “You should ask the baby.”

“You’re right,” he chuckles, flipping open the pages of the book. “Now where did we last leave off? I think our hero was about to fight the mighty dragon…”

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The bland mush of the hospital café’s offerings leaves a strange taste at the back of Yoongi’s throat. Huddled around a table all together, ___’s uncle is the first to speak.

“I’ve seen cases like this before. I think we should pull the plug. If she has to live like this, like a vegetable, what’s the point of torturing her? She won’t even recognize us anymore, is that what you really want?”

“Please Won-jae, don’t start again with the negativity,” your mother looks this close to losing it, hair frazzled and clothes rumpled.

Yoongi clears his throat, startling the table guests once again. He notices they all seem intimidated by him, as if he’s a stranger that makes them uncomfortable, scared to admit their hopelessness.

“Just because she can’t recognize you, that doesn’t mean you can’t recognize her. She’s still the same ___.”

“I think he’s right,” the shy boy with the doe eyes speaks up. Yoongi had recently learned your younger brother’s name. Jungkook. The younger boy had looked at Yoongi with stars in his eyes, asking him for help with his homework and talking to him at any chance he could get. Yoongi would spend every second of the day with Jungkook and your younger sister Sooyoung if it meant the sadness in their eyes would disappear little by little.

“Anyway,” Yoongi says. “I have to get going. I’ll make sure to stop by the pharmacy and get ___’s medications before I leave. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“No, Yoongi.” Your mother offers him a faint smile, tenderness in her gaze. “You’ve done more than enough.”

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May

“You’ve been spending a lot of time at the hospital these days,” Seokjin says the moment Yoongi walks in the door. “I was beginning to think I’d never seen you at home again either. Not like I see you at work these days anyway.”

Yoongi ignores him, leafing through the fridge for anything to eat. He finds nothing. Disappointed, he slams the door shut, Seokjin’s broad frame cornering him against the fridge.

“Only like the taste of hospital food now?”

“What the fuck is your problem, Seokjin? If you have something to say, just spit it out.”

“Fine. I will. I’ve covered 6 of your shifts over the past month. Yeri has covered 4, and Namjoon has covered 3. I can’t afford the apartment anymore because I’m the only one bringing money in since you never come to work, and I’m this close to asking Namjoon to move in with me.”

“Your point is?”

“You know what it is Yoongi! Why are you doing this? What was she to you anyway, it’s not like she was your best friend. The doctors said it themselves, her chances of survival are low.”

“Seokjin, you’re telling me you only do something when there’s a 100% chance it’ll work out? If there’s a chance, even a small chance that she’ll make it, I have to help.”

“Yoongi, you have to start living in the real world again. What you’re doing isn’t practical. You’re not helping anyone - not me, not you, and not her.”

“Don’t you dare say that, Seokjin. Don’t you dare,” Yoongi wants to continue on, but is interrupted by the blaring of his ringtone. ___’s mother. Seokjin looks at the phone, daring him to pick it up, to confirm his suspicions that Yoongi is no longer capable of rational thought when it comes to you.

Accept call. With no hesitation, Yoongi leaves his best friend and roommate behind, revving up his motorbike and disappearing into the night once more.

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“___ has had a massive stroke. While her brain activity spiked, she wasn’t able to regain control of her movements. It’s likely she’ll be paralyzed for life.”

The doctors deliver the crushing blow to the family huddled in the stairwell, Yoongi standing in the corner beside them.

“You heard what the doctor said, and yet you still foolishly cling onto hope. Why can’t you all just be practical for once? What kind of a person would want to live like this?” Won-jae’s biting words cut through the air, and Yoongi can see their devastating effects, watching the hope slowly drain from your family’s eyes.

There were many socially unacceptable things Yoongi would like to say to your uncle right now, but for the sake of avoiding chaos, he decides to be gentle instead.

“Maybe she wants to live like this. Maybe she wants to live, period. Maybe she doesn’t. In any case, who are we to decide that for ___?”

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“Your uncle has the patience of a wild boar,” Yoongi says to you. He hopes you’re listening, that you can hear his rant. It’s not like Seokjin wants to speak to him anymore, so he only has you to let it out to.

“So what if you need the machines for a little longer? There are times when my motorbike doesn’t start either. So then, I just give it a good kick and it starts. The machines will do the same for you, so just bear with it ___. Okay? Just bear with it for me. For us.”

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June

The chill air of the morning greets Yoongi the moment he steps out onto his balcony, craving the iced Americano he always used to get from the hotel kitchen. The hospital coffee is absolute shit, he decides. And it wasn’t like he had money to afford fancy coffee from any of the cafés surrounding it. Seokjin had stopped loaning him money long ago, instead preferring to sulk with Namjoon and Yeri any chance he got.

A strange sight greets him across the parking lot. His bike, perched against a blooming tree, covered in a fresh blanket of mugunghwa flowers. He hadn’t even noticed the seasons changing, the sterile white walls of the hospital obscuring every ray of light that dared filter in through the windows.

An idea crosses Yoongi’s mind. He chucks on his sandals and makes his way to the carpark. Kneeling by his bike, he painstakingly picks up every single blossom, the light floral scent permeating his senses.

Not less than fifteen minutes later, he’s dumping the blooms out onto your hospital bed, dozing off in the chair next to your bed as he prepares for the long day ahead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He wakes to the appalled gasps and shrieks of the nurses, rubbing his eyes and balking at the sight before him. Your nostrils. They’re moving. You’re breathing on your own.

Dr. Sungyuk Park is by your bedside, the most renowned neurosurgeon in all of South Korea. The man who knows everything seems lost for words, and behind him, he sees Sooyoung and Jungkook hugging your mother tightly, tears in their eyes.

“Coma patients can often respond to strong external stimuli, like the smell of these flowers. In this case, it’s a very positive sign that we’re on the right track,” Dr. Park explains, and Yoongi feels the burden upon his shoulders lift with each word.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July

“____, today at 5am, you opened your eyes. You’re doing very good, I want you to try to do a little bit more? Can you do that for me?” Dr. Park’s voice echoes across the ward.

Yoongi can’t believe it. A month ago, he brought the mugunghwa flowers to you. In that time, you’ve started slowly waking, coming back to life before him and your family’s eyes.

He rests a hand on your mother’s shoulders, fearing that the poor woman may fall over from sheer joy.

“I want you to look to your left for me,” Dr. Park continues, your orbs bloodshot but still beautiful to Yoongi’s own eyes following his finger slowly and precisely.

“Aaaand to your right please,” you follow seamlessly, the opening of your eyes mark the beginning of a new chapter in your story.

As Dr. Park steps out, your mother rushes to your bedside, gently reaching out to stroke the long bangs that now fall over your face.

“Unnie,” Sooyoung cries. “Your hair is so pretty now Unnie. Now please get better, Unnie. Get better so that we can all go home soon.”

“It’s been too long,” your mother sobs, collapsing against Jungkook. “It’s been too long without you, my daughter. Please come back. Come back soon.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sweat drips down Yoongi’s back, restaurant duty causing him to hover between the dining room and the kitchen behind it, cleaning up scraps, carrying plates, and bussing tables. Manager Im has him working double duty on probation, threatening that if he doesn’t show up for his shifts, his degree will be terminated and he’ll never graduate from the management program.

Normally, Yoongi wouldn’t have minded the hours. In fact, the old Yoongi would have taken this chance at redemption in stride. The new Yoongi, however, is filled with butterflies. He longs to see you every day, to see your pretty eyes looking up at him, to ask you how your day went.

The other day, Sooyoung ran up to him and hugged him tightly, saying that after just two weeks, you’d moved from being able to open your eyes to croaking out words.

Eomma had been your first. Garbled in tone, but the meaning crystal clear. Sooyoung had been with you all week, trying to teach you the syllables.

“SOO-YUNG,” she lisped out, the air escaping between her two buck teeth. “Soon you’ll learn my name too, Unnie!”

Yoongi’s thoughts are interrupted by a plate being shoved towards him.

“Excuse me, waiter boy? Are you even paying attention? I told you to take this food back.”

“Why,” Yoongi seethes. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Don’t talk to me in that tone! This food already tastes like shit and we’re paying for it, bring us something else on the house.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath, putting on his customer service voice. “I’m sorry the meal wasn’t to your satisfaction. Unfortunately, I can’t refund the order completely. I’m sure we can bring you another replacement that’ll be more to your liking.”

The man sneers, disdain evident in their expression. “Listen to me you fucking nobody, your job is to make people like me happy. You don’t have a life. I control your paycheck, and therefore I control your life. So, it’ll do you good to just shut up and do what I say.”

White hot rage blinds Yoongi’s vision, and before he knows it, the plate is clattering to the ground and his fist is flying into the asshole’s face. A scuffle starts, people jumping in from left and right to prevent the two of them from hurting each other.

Yoongi feels a pair of arms drag him away from the man, Seokjin holding him steady.

“Yoongi man, stop, just stop. Leave it alone, leave it!” Seokjin implores him to calm down.

Yoongi yanks himself out of Seokjin’s grasp, untying his apron with a groan and throwing it onto the luxurious hotel carpet. He can feel Im’s seething stare from behind his eyelids, but he no longer cares about Im, or the hotel, or this job. All he wants is you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As dawn approaches, Yoongi once again finds himself by your bedside. Except, this time, he’s not alone. Dr. Park is there, checking your vitals and jotting notes down on a clipboard.

“Dr. Park, does this mean she’s fully conscious now?” Yoongi gazes expectantly upon the old man, willing him to inject some much needed hope into his day.

“Thalamus… cortex… medulla oblongata… dorsal plexus of the spine. These medical terms have one spiritual connotation… the soul. And the soul never goes into a coma. Have patience, she’s trying.”

And with that, he makes his final notes and leaves the room.

Yoongi takes this moment alone to stare into your eyes. He’s never properly looked into them, he realizes. Even when you’d always greet him daily, he always looked past you. Never at you. He takes all the time he has left.

“____. Hey ____. Listen to me, can you say Yoongi? YOON-GI. It’s simple, just try it.”

You look up at him with a blank stare. No response. Yoongi panics, his chest becoming heavy. For a moment, he entertains the terrible thought that you’ll never recognize him again, that maybe he doesn’t mean anything to you, even though you’ve come to mean everything to him.

“___, please. Please say something, do something. It’s me. Yoongi. You asked about me before. Please, please. Look to your left if you recognize me.”

When he sees your eyes shift to the left, Yoongi almost sobs with relief. He wants to collapse and hug you for making his insignificant existence feel worth something again. But he doesn’t want to scare you. Instead, he lifts himself up gently and waves goodbye, pinning something on the wall before slipping out of the ward before the first rays of morning light filter into the room.

When he doesn’t come back to your bedside that day, your family is left speechless. Gone, nearly without a trace. The only proof he’d existed at all was the small passport photo he’d clipped to the railing of your bed, the black ink of the Hangul lettering spelling out a single word. Yoongi.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August

The new hotel brings a strange feeling with it. Yoongi’s not used to the crisp air of the mountains, growing up among the fog and fumes of Seoul. He’s not used to having a fresh start, to being unburdened by the weight of others’ expectations. He doesn’t know how to feel, so he settles for just living for now, spending every day training staff and overseeing operations.

When the Signiel offered him a new placement, Yoongi was reluctant to leave you behind. He’d paced for days on end, chewing his fingernails raw, wondering how to break the news. Your mother beat him to that.

“Yoongi, you’ve done more for us than you could imagine. Please, it’s time for you to go on and live your life. You’re still so young. We’ll manage.”

And so, Yoongi headed towards the hills. The cozy chalet he worked at was full of nothing but friendly and forgiving people. He struck up a friendship with the assistant manager, Hoseok, and the two of them would often roam the grove of Japanese Maple trees adjacent to the hotel, wandering and rambling on for hours and hours. Hoseok reminded him of Seokjin, and of Yeri and Namjoon, people he should have held close to his heart, but instead, he let go.

He wondered how you were constantly. Amongst preparing the drinks, dusting the decor, and planning excursions. His thoughts never strayed from you. Were you still in the hospital? Were you home? Was someone taking care of you?

He’d given the nurse strict instructions before he left, telling her every little detail he noticed you liked or responded to. The nurse waved him off with a smile, saying he was a fool in love. And that’s what solidified Yoongi’s decision to run.

Love. The feelings he developed for you were dangerous. Love made people selfish, it made people succumb to their deepest desires without a second thought for others. Yoongi decided that wasn’t fair to you. You deserved to live out a full and happy life. You deserved to live unburdened by his feelings, feelings that were out of his control, but could have sent you reeling off the rails were you ever to find out. Yoongi never wanted that for you, and maybe he’d never find out the reason you asked for him the day you fell, but he’d made his peace with it. The mountain air had done him some good.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peace, however, is a fickle thing. Yoongi’s startled awake in the middle of night by the blaring of his phone, your mother’s contact name lighting up the screen.

He scrambles to answer the phone, breathing heavily as he rasps out, “Hello? Ahjoomah, is everything okay? Is ___ okay?”

“Yoongi,” your mother sobs out. “The last few days have been so difficult. First ___ stopped responding, then she had another seizure. We had to take her back to the ICU, and the doctor told us she’s at a severe risk of cardiac problems. Once the seizure subsided, she started to become violent towards others and herself. They’ve had to restrain her.”

“Ahjoomah, I-, let me help you, please.” Yoongi pleads, tears pricking his eyes. “What do you need from me?”

“Yoongi, I just wanted to let you know since you’ve become so close. Don’t worry about us, this is now part of our lives. You focus on your work, okay?” her voice cracks on the last syllable, and the line cuts dead.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September

“___, can you please lift your leg for us again. Please try one more time,” the physiotherapist asks, struggling against your lashing figure.

Yoongi looks at the scene with grief, chastising himself for leaving. After the phone call, he’d packed his bags and caught the first train to Seoul, leaving an apology note for Hoseok. Come the morning, he’d woken up in the hospital waiting room to your mother’s shocked face, catching the faint hint of disappointment emanating from her.

“Doctor?” Yoongi says. “Is it okay if I just take her out into the hallway for a bit?”

He nods a reluctant yes, and Yoongi wheels your chair out into the sunny yet secluded alcove at the end of the hallway.

He leans against the wall, looking at your face that’s lolled to the side, turned away from him.

“I know you’re mad at me. I’m sorry. I’ll never leave you again I promise. Now, don’t you want to get better?”

As Yoongi falls asleep that night, his phone buzzes with a text from Seokjin.

You’re back, and you didn’t think to tell me? The keys are in the flower pot outside the door. There’s food in the fridge. I made samgyeopsal, your favorite. Oh, and Yoongi? When you come back in, please take a shower. You probably smell like sterile piss.

He lets out a loud laugh and looks up at you, suddenly stopping in his tracks when he sees the ghost of a smile flicker across your face.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bringing his foot down onto the plywood, Yoongi jumps on the makeshift ramp he’d built to commemorate your homecoming, testing it out for signs of weakness. Driving to your house each morning, checking out the ramp, lifting you in and out of bed, making sure there was fresh air circulating in your room… it had all become part of his daily routine.

His mornings, afternoons, and evenings were filled with you. He’d cook breakfast for Sooyoung and Jungkook in the kitchen. He’d strap you into the wheelchair and take you out for a spin every afternoon. In the evenings, he’d sit at the dining table with you and your mother, her professor side out in full force as she taught you how to write shaky letters once more.

Today, on his daily stroll with you, he’d stopped in the park for a moment. The weather was chilly yet enjoyable, but he still made sure you were bundled up in a coat and scarf.

Yoongi lets out a groan and plops down on a bench, right beside your chair. The falling leaves have him reminiscing on his life a year ago, and how different everything was back then. How you two were two ships in the night, navigating the same murky waters yet never crossing paths. And now you’d become his anchor, and he was your lighthouse, guiding you to safety and security every hour of the day.

“Do you ever want to go far, far away?” Yoongi blurts out, unable to contain his thoughts. “Where would you go? You never imagined you’d go into a coma, right? None of us did.”

The last words are a whisper, Yoongi being careful not to dwell on the past. All that matters is the road to recovery.

“Can I ask you one final thing? That night, when you fell, why did you ask for me? Why did you ask for Yoongi?” The door was closing on this chapter for the both of them, but Yoongi would always wonder about the what ifs. What if he had been there that night, what if she had never gone into a coma, what if life for the both of them hadn’t morphed before their very eyes?

A strangled noise interrupts Yoongi’s thoughts once more. He glances over to you, and is shocked to find your lips moving.

“Yoon-gi,” you croak. “Yun-gi.”

Recognition fills your eyes, and Yoongi is incapable of doing nothing but hiding his head in his hands, not wanting you to see the tears of joy that fall and mix with the dew drops on the vibrant green grass.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

October

The call came in the middle of the night, annihilating Yoongi with the weight of its impact, and for once, he’s the weak one. Sobbing helplessly into his sheets as Seokjin throws his arms around his roommate and holds him through the night.

____ had another seizure last night. Her lungs collapsed. She passed away at 2:27am.

The words echo in Yoongi’s brain as he makes his way to your front door, pushing past the crowd of mourners as numbness encapsulates his entire being.

He passes your uncle, hunched over in the recliner, weeping into his hands. He passes your mother, holding on tight to Sooyoung and Jungkook, almost as if they too will slip out of her grasp at any moment.

He gazes into your room, surprised to still see you lying among the pillows. You look so peaceful, almost as if you’re asleep. It’s the most he’s seen you look like your old self in a long time and Yoongi feels nothing but pain as tears burn in his eyes. Pain that you were awarded a brief moment of peace, of normalcy, before it was all snatched away so soon. Pain that you’d never live out the life you deserved to have, to achieve the happiness that you were meant to achieve. And he’d never be there to see it too.

He stays the night, and the night after that, and the next two nights, helping with the signing of documents and ushering the guests out, one by one, until it’s just your mother and siblings with him at the table.

“We’re moving to Daegu in two weeks,” your mother gasps. “For a fresh start.”

Yoongi knows that their paths diverge here, that in two weeks, all traces of you, and Sooyoung with her buck teeth, Jungkook with his doe eyes, and your mother’s loving smile will be erased from his life. He keeps quiet, afraid to say anything. Afraid to tell them that he doesn’t want them to go, that his soul that had finally found an anchor would be cast out into the depths once more.

“You know Yoongi,” your mother chokes out a sob. “___ loved mugunghwa flowers. They were her favorite. Every year, she’d eagerly wait for October when all the flowers fell from the trees and she’d collect them on a sheet with her father and count them one by one. Mugunghwa are known for their extreme resilience, weathering the worst of conditions to produce something beautiful. They’ll always be known as the “eternal blossom”, and I couldn’t think of a better way to describe our ___.”

The magic of the mugunghwa isn’t lost on Yoongi. He watches as your mother gestures out to a potted shrub in the yard. “____ had a plant of her own. Every day, she would come home and smile at it, water it, and tend to it. She’d pick the flowers when they fell and put them as a centerpiece on our table. I don’t…. I can’t just leave it here to die.”

“I’ll take it,” Yoongi says. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry. It’ll be safe with me.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

November

The heat of the spotlight burns the hairs on the back of Yoongi’s neck. He’s going to suffocate in this damn suit. He’ll have to talk to Seokjin to see if Yeri would be able to find him a replacement.

With a flourish of the keys, he ends the song and clears his throat into the microphone.

“That’s all for tonight, folks. My name is Min Yoongi, grand pianist at the Signiel Hotel, and the piece you just heard was called October. Thank you for listening.”

A/N pt 2: I didn’t want to put this in the summary, but this piece is dedicated to a classmate of mine that passed away suddenly this semester. I’ve been wrestling with a lot of grief surrounding their passing, wondering if I could’ve done or said something to make things turn out differently. Like Dr. Park says, the soul can never be put into a coma, and I hope that wherever they are, their soul is resting easy and at peace. As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

Leslie Odom Jr tells the story behind his performance on “Dear Theodosia” in Hamilton.

ik ur on hobi lockdown rn but when u get the chance can u recommend some married bts fics? except the marriage is kind of on the rocks but it works out in the end. lmao this is rlly specific but i’m just craving it

🌷 LOL 😂 Since you're so nice that you noticed my Hobi Lockdown 😁, here are fics I remember with the scenario you mentioned. A lot of these I have yet to re-read so details might be hazy (so if I remember it as a happy ending but it actually isn't, please forgive me 😁). There are also recent fics that I haven't read yet so I probably missed a lot.

Marriage on the Rocks Type of Fics 

*updated - I just remembered some fics

Yoongi

I Feel You in my Heart @purpletaecup - ongoing series | divorce au. feat Jungkook | Angst ~ you can subscribe to the fic so you’re notified once there’s an update 🥰

Divorce @xjamlessparkx -  completed series [17/17] (read this long time ago but it has a happy ending...I think?)

Cut Me Open @hayjeon - two shot |  married au (but falling apart), medical au, surgeon au (spin off of the Jungkook fic Cardiovascular Palpitations) | A, F, S (i included this in the coworker yoongi rec list too!)

Away From You @personasintro - ongoing series [16/?] | divorce au

After the Honeymoon Fades @onherwings - one shot | okay, so they’re not really married but the way their relationship is written, feels like it is. It’s also one of my favorite on-the-verge-of-breaking-up fics and actually the first fic I thought of when I saw your ask 🥰 [author removed the fic on tumblr, added alt link]

Sticky Notes @threeletterslife - one shot | like LDR but they still live together (engaged) and they use sticky notes to communicate 😢

Honeymoon Horrors @/jimlingss - drabble but this is perfect! it’s actually funny too! yet there’s so much longing ugh. someone sent the author an ask what happened after the drabble so please read the follow-up imagine here

Jungkook

Jaded by chasinghorizons (ao3) - marriage tension ugh this is good and realistic. Also check Rain by nijoon

Second Chances @parkhabits - one shot | headed for divorce, estranged~ (I have to say it’s been so long since I’ve read this but I saw a note I made in 2018 with the ff. emojis: 😭😭😭🥰🥰 - so it ended well 😅)

Taking Chances @neonlights92 - one shot | arranged marriage but OC wants to dissolve arrangement | smutty tones 😉

Don’t Leave Me + part 2 @kpopmademyday -  two-part drabble | arranged marriage x jerk jungkook ~ okay, I’ve read this a long time ago so I don’t know if there are other drabbles. I just remember JK’s trying to make things work, there’s a park, someone threw water, etc.

Wherever There is You @vinterjeon -  one shot | marriage on the rocks | this is the first fic of the author I’ve read and then I binged on their ongoing fics after 🥰🥰

Arranged Marriage @yeontantrash - one shot | gang au,  arranged marriage but she keeps trying to leave him. fluffy ending 🥰 |

Thinning Thread @flowerwrites06 - one shot | divorce au | A, S, F (thank you dear author for reuploading this =))

Heartbreak Anniversary @pbandjk - drabble | about to divorce | exes who has to share bed during daughter’s birthday (OC’s parents didn’t know about the breakup) 

There’s a Jungkook fic I remember where they’re headed for divorce and OC went back in time to change the situation. It’s unavailable but if it gets reposted I’ll update this 😉.

Seokjin

Fall in Hatred @jimlingss - one shot | marriage au 

When the Sea Sleeps @taecalikook - one shot | starting to question their marriage which used to be ‘convenient’ before

We Go to War by seraphicserendipity [AO3] - series [9/9] | socialites, PR stunt marriage (👍)

Taehyung

Love is Not Over @rookiegukie -  uhm they’ve been divorced so it’s not exactly a marriage!au but I just want to recommend it lol

One Night Stand @sodoyouknowbts -  completed series + drabble (daddy!taehyung 🥰)  accidental pregnancy x got married but seems not working out

All This Stigma @army-author - two shot | 14.9k | fwb au, accidental pregnancy, arranged marriage 😭💖 (I love how angsty this is!)

Hoseok

Love Me Again @adoringjjk - one shot | CEO Hoseok

Dalliance @sugaurora - one shot | sort of cheating, but not really? | this is not even angsty, I swear. I read this on AO3 and found out author has tumblr too! You can follow on either platform

Most of my favorite Hoseok fics with this theme have been deleted or it didn’t end well (angsty ending) - if anyone has Hoseok fics to recommend, please feel free to share 🥰

Jimin

The Arrangement @kpoptart216 - series 14/14 | arranged marriage 

Of course, Faded Love by jamaisjoons which I probably included in every fic rec list. 

There’s another Jimin fic I can’t remember the title of 😭. Like they’re in the middle of divorce proceedings because she thinks he’s cheating on her and Namjoon is OC’s lawyer. It’s angsty then it turned smutty (help! if anyone knows this fic 😥) - UPDATE: I just remembered the fic. It's Gratuitous Redemption by minjoonalist but it's been deleted 😭

Namjoon

Stitches @glassbangtan - one shot | got married early 

Mad Passion has similar themes, I think? Not on the verge of breaking up but they need to fix some issues in their marriage.

🥰  Please note that the fics are NOT mine. Please show these authors love by reblogging their fics, giving them feedback, and engaging in any positive interaction you can think of! 

🌷 posted: 2021 Feb 19 | updated: 2021 May 16 (added Heartbreak Anniversary JJK)

REBLOG IF YOU AGREE

Newt Scamander.

PLEASE-

help

Burn After Reading: Series Masterlist

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Female Reader

Genres: drabble series, sfw (for now), action, heavy angst, exes-to-lovers, spy!AU

Tags/Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, past relationship, tense situations, mentions of blood and violence, grief, minor character death, will be updated as story moves along

Summary: Summary: The agency made the biggest mistake they ever could by trusting Kim Seokjin one more time. You weren’t going to do the same.

Banner made by me!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged when (if) I update.

i. Head Start in Havana

ii. Birkins in Busan

iii. Interlude: Shadow

iv. Lovesick in Lisbon

v. Kairos in Cairo

vii. Onsra in Okinawa

viii. Last Tango in Paris

iv. Epilogue

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

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

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

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

word count: 7.2 k

"you would die for her, for him."

"You're dying."

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

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

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

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

The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."

"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"

You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.

The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.

It really, really hurts.

You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.

"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"

"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.

Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.

"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.

Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.

The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.

"Who is it?"

Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.

But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.

And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.

He does this all before pulling the trigger.

"Who are you in love with, y/n?"

two years back

"Jimin!"

You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."

Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.

You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"

Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."

Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.

“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.

How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.

You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"

You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.

Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.

This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.

You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?

"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."

He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.

Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.

Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-

"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.

Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.

It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.

Just look at him.

You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.

“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.

Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.

“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”

silence.

silence.

and more silence.

Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.

And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.

Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.

Because not only is he your brother's best friend,

he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.

present time

"I already loved him then, Joon."

By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."

Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.

It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.

Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.

You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.

Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.

Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.

You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.

You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.

You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.

Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.

Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"

You sigh, "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.

Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."

Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?

You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?

He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?

The choice - to love or to die.

A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.

To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.

Who would want to live like that?

Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?

He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.

"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.

Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?

"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.

"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."

You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.

"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.

"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."

Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.

"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."

Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"

You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.

"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"

He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.

Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,

the man of the hour.

"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"

"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."

"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.

"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.

"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"

"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.

"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"

"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."

At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.

Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.

But not before he drags you along with him.

Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.

You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.

Strong enough to survive through this.

You’ll be okay.

And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.

His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.

“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”

Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”

He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.

You’re strong.

You can beat this.

It'll be alright.

You'll be okay.

"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.

Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."

Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.

And so that's exactly what he does.

You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.

Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.

As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.

Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.

Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.

"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.

The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.

"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"

"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."

"y/n.."

“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.

At least that's what you think.

"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.

"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.

You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.

God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?

You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.

"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"

"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.

Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.

He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.

Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."

Oops.

The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.

Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?

Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."

You sigh, "But it's true, chim."

"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."

"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"

Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"

At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.

Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.

You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"

"y/n?"

You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"

"y- y/n."

You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"

You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.

"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."

You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.

"It's Sung."

You remember Jimin's worst.

"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."

You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.

You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."

He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."

He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.

You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.

"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"

You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."

You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.

It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.

You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"

"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."

And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.

You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.

You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.

To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.

You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.

If you could, you would take here place.

You would die for her, for him.

You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;

please don't let her die

don't take her away from me

i love her too much

i still have to marry her.

You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.

You remember the way Jimin stilled.

"No."

You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.

"No no no no-"

You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"

"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"

You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.

"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"

You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"

You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.

"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"

"y/n. D-don't."

You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.

"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."

"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."

"Joon." You whisper softly.

What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.

"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.

It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.

"HYUNG!"

You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."

Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"

You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.

But then you cough.

And you cough

and you cough

and you cough.

But no one notices you.

Not even yourself.

Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.

"P-please," He whispers.

And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.

And you cough

and you cough.

And still no one notices.

No one except him.

You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.

You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.

Eyes you found lastly staring at you.

You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.

You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.

You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.

You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.

You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.

And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,

and you bleed.

And amongst the red is a pink.

A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.

So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.

Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.

taglist for part 2?

In Real Life • pt1

-> Being transported into a fanfic is not exactly Jimin's ideal type of weekend, especially not right after you rejected his attempt to ask you out. Now the two of you will have to help the author write a happy ending if you ever wanna make it back to real life. Can he write a happy ending with you too?

Main pairing: gamer boy!jimin x fem!creative writing major!reader

Genre/au: trapped in a fanfic!au, enemies to friends to lovers, low-key love triangle, sports!au (archery), college!au, a good amount of fluff, a poor attempt at humor, some angst, inspired by Teen Beach Movie and Extraordinary You

Warnings: breaking the fourth wall sorta / pov changes, embarrassing moments, Jimin being a sweetheart bc I can't write him any other way, themes of depression and anxiety, more warnings to be added to part 2.

Wc: 14.1K

Disclaimer: this is not meant to represent all fanfiction and I'm not implying that all fanfic writers or readers only engage in fanfiction to escape reality. it's just for the sake of the story.

💿 the author - Luz :: more of you - JP Saxe :: main character - Zach Hood

a/n: yes, I had to split this into two parts because I planned it to be 15K but it's turning out longer than that sooooo yeah, hope ya'll enjoy the first part and if you do/don't want to be tagged for part 2 just let me know :)

"You're still here." 

"I'm still here." 

Jungkook doesn't know what to say. He's been a jerk. A complete bonehead, oblivious to what's been right in front of him this entire time. 

"I thought you would have left already," he says with downcast eyes. 

The implication is that you should have left by now. There's no reason for you to wait around for this jackass. He's been nothing but cruel to you, doing the things he did, saying the things he said. 

"I should have left," you admit, shamelessly standing before him still, "but there's something I have to say." 

Jungkook leans away, listening with intent but also nervous for what you'll say. Surely, you're going to scold him for his actions, tell him off, curse him. It would be an appropriate response given what he did. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this any–" 

Your phone is suddenly snatched from your hand, your eyes following it helplessly over your head to the bleacher behind you. 

"Hey! My phone!" 

Park Jimin. Teaser extraordinaire and the only student you know who got a legit scholarship to a legit university for gaming. That's right, this geek got into university by playing video games. A fact that has continued to irk you considering you worked your ass off to graduate high school early and still only got into your third university of choice after being rejected twice. 

"Whoa, what is this?" he snickers at the screen, giggling among his so-called friends that always follows him around as he reads your precious fiction embarrassingly loudly. "He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to–" 

You swipe your phone back, slapping his hand in the process. "Don't steal people's stuff!" 

"Was that fanfiction? Oh my god, you actually read that shit?" he belly laughs, almost falling off the back of the bleachers but his groupies catch him just in time. 

Too bad. 

You shut off the screen with the app still on and stuff your phone in your jean pocket, turning to the front with crossed arms and a pout. 

"Mind your own business, Park." 

"Do you like it when guys randomly grab you and kiss you?" 

"No," you flick your hair back, "but even if I did, like I said, mind your own business." 

"Aw come on, it's just a joke. Lighten up, it's the first game of the season." 

No, he just enjoys teasing you for your reactions. You try not to let him bother you because to be honest he isn't worth your time, but he has this way of getting you so riled up that you have to react. Stealing your phone, eavesdropping on your conversations, sliding into your DMs and spamming you with that one fancy duck meme that you told him makes you uncomfortable but he keeps sending it anyway. 

You tried to ignore him but he's attached himself to you for god knows why. His purpose in life must be to make you miserable. 

Your school's basketball team made another score on the court and the crowd started cheering, a good enough opportunity as any to slip away. Just goes to show what trying to be social and involved in school spirit will get you. Teased and irritated. You should have stayed in your dorm and worked on your creative writing final like you originally planned. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Jimin calls after you, leaning to see around his friends, but you don't reply. 

You duck and weave through the aisles of the bleachers. The stadium is packed as mess so it's impossible not to bump into people, unfortunately. 

Someone grabs your wrist just as you manage to slip past the bleachers and into the concession stands area, making you turn around in surprise. 

"You're leaving already?" Jimin asks. 

"Yes, I'm leaving. Let go, please." 

He drops your limb. "But it's only half time." 

"I've got an assignment anyway." 

"Do it later. Come watch the rest of the game with me." 

"Honestly, I don't want to sit with you, Jimin." 

"Whoa," he puts his hands up in surrender, "did I do something?" 

You scoff, "Is it really that shocking to think I don't want to sit with you? We don't even know each other that well." 

"Then let's get to know each other. Go on a date with me." 

You're too shocked to speak. It's a prank. He can't be serious about this. Jimin found out you like fanfiction and now he's trying to make your heart race by sticking his hands in his pockets and half smirking like he's charming or something. 

You cross your arms. "Why should I?" 

"Because I like you." 

"No, thanks." 

His smirk turns downward, shoulders slumping. "Why not?" 

"I don't like you like that," you explain as kindly as you can. You are being kind because you could say you don't like him at all and it would be closer to the truth. 

"That's the point of dating," he says with a confident tilt of his head. "You may like me once you get to know me." 

"I don't want to date the guy who steals my phone and teases me about my hobbies." 

"Okay okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stolen your phone," he says with a genuine nod, "but fanfiction, really? That stuff is for loners and hopeless romantic fangirls." 

"I'm guessing you wouldn't want to date a loner or a hopeless romantic fangirl, huh?" 

"Well no, who would?" 

"Then you don't want to date me." 

The crowd behind you start to bustle, pouring into the open space of vendors and snack bars and bathrooms, crowding your shoulders and walking through the space between you and Jimin. 

The conversation was over anyway, so you give one last wave and start to walk away. 

The crowd is thick and difficult to maneuver. It doesn't help that you're not nearly as tall as half the male fans here. Basketball is a tall sport so you should have expected this, but you press on, trying to slip through holes and low tunnels in the crowd to evade any further conversation with your nemesis. 

Jimin's calling fades into the background. You turn to see if he's still following but he's not around, probably went back to his seat seeing as you made your rejection clear as day already. 

It blows your mind because this stuff only happens in kindergarten. Teasing you because he likes you? It didn't even cross your mind. No college-aged graphic design major is that emotionally immature, right? If he really likes you he should treat you with respect like a gentleman from one of Jane Austen's novels. 

You squeal when a large shoulder hits you square in the chest, complete disregard for the person they just ran into. 

Falling back, you brace yourself for a harsh landing when a pair of arms catches you at the last moment, twisting you around and pulling you into a steady embrace. 

"You okay?" 

You peer up to find Jimin holding you securely against his chest. 

So he was still following you. 

"Yeah," you reply, pulling your legs back underneath you again, but he keeps his arms around you. "Thanks." 

"People never pay attention at these things. Let me walk you out–" 

He's interrupted when another rough nudge to his back sends him jerking forward, feet shuffling to keep from falling on top of you, his lips lightly brushing your nose. 

That was close. 

You scrunch your nose instinctively, making yourself smaller within his arms when they naturally squeeze around you. 

"...sorry," he mutters with a light blush on his cheeks, watching your cute expression with concern. 

You push away from his chest, too embarrassed that your heart is actually racing to say anything else. Looking down, you trudge through the rest of the crowd and make a bee-line for the exit. 

Good god, you have to get out of here. 

It's so much easier to breathe once you're outside. Puffs of warmth escape your lips when your head falls back with a large sigh. Finally some coolness on your cheeks. 

Muffled squeaks of sneakers on the court and groans from the audience are all you need to know the game has resumed. Jimin must have gone back then. There's no way he followed you all the way out here after all that. 

"___! Wait up!" 

"You have got to be kidding me," you whisper to yourself in disbelief. 

This dude cannot take a hint. 

"I'm sorry for…back there," he says shyly when he's come up behind you. At least he's apologizing on his own accord this time. "I got bumped. It was a mistake, I swear." 

You turn to give him a small nod, arms wrapped around yourself. "It's fine." 

"Are you cold? You should've brought a jacket." 

"Yeah, I didn't because I didn't know it would be this cold." 

"Here, you can have mine." 

"No!" You quickly stop him with a hand held up when he starts to strip his outer layer. "I don't want your jacket, Jimin." 

"But–" 

"I'm not trying to encourage anything, okay?" you interrupt him. "Please, don't give me your jacket." 

He slowly pulls it back over his shoulders with a frown. Your hand lowers and you tuck it back into your crossed arms, a slight shiver running through your shoulders.  

"At least let me walk you to your dorm. It's dark." 

"I'll be fine. Goodnight, Jimin." 

He doesn't respond but you can feel his eyes on the back of your head as you walk away. 

Okay, maybe you feel kinda bad turning down his jacket since you are freezing and he could have just been trying to be considerate. But with the knowledge of his crush on you, you just couldn't accept it with a clear conscience. Especially not right after turning him down so blatantly. 

That's right, this is the jerk who's been teasing you relentlessly since you met last semester. Now you know it was all because he likes you. Childish. This isn't kindergarten. 

So what, you like fanfiction? Lots of people do. It's an escape from the disappointment of reality, and everyone needs some of that at some point. Hell, Jimin plays video games for hours a day! Sure, some of it is for his major but he's probably also trying to escape reality part of the time, and you don't blame him. 

You pull your phone out of your pocket and open up the tab for your fanfic, finding the spot where you left off. A little escape from reality is exactly what you need right about now actually. 

But you open your mouth and the most curious, unexpected words come out. 

"Jungkook, I can't do this anymore. I'm tired, okay? Tired of trying and never getting anywhere, tired of my feelings not being reciprocated. So, I'm done. I'm done with you–" 

He suddenly grabs your waist, pulling you against his firm body to kiss you with so much passion you feel your heart is going to explode. 

His lips are perfect against yours, like pillows of sweetness. But they're nothing compared to his potent tongue, slipping between your lips and drawing a soft moan from your throat. 

His arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest and squeezing…

You shake your head when the image of Jimin catching you pops into your imagination. 

…squeezing you so close you can feel his heartbeat through his white t-shirt. 

Jungkook's hands follow the curve of your waist, allowing the kiss to keep pace for a moment, enjoying your taste, the warmth of your tongue and the coolness of your lips. 

He pulls away from the kiss and takes a deep breath. His fingers gently brush your hair from your face, forehead leaning against yours lovingly as he gazes into your eyes. It feels like a scene from a movie. 

He smiles that wickedly beautiful smile and whispers soft and low…

"Watch out!!" 

Your arm is grabbed right when you lift your eyes from your phone, the blinding headlights of a car coming right at you. 

There's not even enough time to gasp. 

All you recognize is the pull of your body being jerked back, a stinging pain shooting up your arm and into your shoulder, the twist of your ankle as it trips over the curbside. 

Maybe it's your imagination, but you swear you catch a glimpse of Jimin's face before you crash onto the sidewalk, your side landing on his arm, and your head painfully slamming into the ground. 

:: 

His head is pounding when he comes to, rivers of red behind his eyes like poison. Even after he tries to blink them away, they persist for a moment. 

"What the fuck…" Jimin groans, reaching up to rub his head. 

Shit, that really hurt. 

Just as he starts to make sense of where he is in space, a body next to him starts to stir as well. 

Slowly, you shift where you lay on his arm, rubbing your head where you must have hit it on the sidewalk too. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, still blinking to bring his world into focus. 

Even if you're not, maybe you needed a good knock on the head. You were about to walk out in front of a fucking car because you were too lost in whatever fanfic you were reading. Idiot. 

You sit up, a hand on the side of your neck as you twist to help with the stiffness. Your neck pops and that helps a lot. 

"I think so." Your eyes land on Jimin and his position on the ground. "Did you…thank you." 

"Don't mention it," he sighs and sits up next to you, "just look where you're going from now on." 

"Right. I will." 

"Sure your head is okay?" 

"It's pounding a little," you confess. 

"Mine too," Jimin replies, pulling your ripped sweater back over your shoulder. 

And then the most extraordinary, unexpected thing happens. 

The moment is suddenly in slow-mo. The action of his hand brushing your skin when he moves your sleeve, the way his eyelashes softly flutter when he looks at you. The background blurs into a mass of nothingness, there's a soft hum of a melody coming from somewhere and fairy lights around his face like a filter. You're completely enraptured in the moment, physically unable to look away from his angelic form. 

When he's finished helping you cover your shoulder, the world returns to normal. 

Perhaps you hit your head a little harder than you thought. It's playing tricks on you now. 

"Hey, Jimin?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Sure." 

"Wasn't it nighttime before?" 

Curiously, he takes a gander at your surroundings, and sure enough, the sun is high in the sky. That means the basketball game ended and everyone left the stadium, passed by you two lying unconscious on the sidewalk, and did nothing. The school will definitely be hearing about this. 

"It was also October," he comments. 

It feels rather warm for it being this far into Autumn. Not to mention the trees are beautifully green and flowering everywhere you look. It's not just a warm day in October. It's a different season. A hot season. 

He decides to shake it off and stand up, brushing off his clothes and ruffling his hair. 

You stand as well, a little unsteady on your feet. 

"You're not too dizzy to walk?" he checks just in case. 

"I think I'm good. Are you okay?" 

"Just a headache." 

Something is definitely odd but he can't quite put his finger on it. Something feels weirder than normal, like he's not seeing things right, like his peripheral vision has been tampered with. When he's focused on you, everything else fades into the background until he makes a point to look away from you again. 

He chalks it up to his head still spinning but he can't ignore the oddity of his environment right now. It still looks like his universe but something is…different. He can't seem to get out of tunnel vision mode. 

"Where are all the students?" you ask. 

Now is when he notices the lack of other people. The campus is completely abandoned save for the two of you and the occasional squirrel in a tree behind him. 

"In class?" 

"It is the middle of the day," you admit thoughtfully, but you don't seem convinced by his suggestion. From the expression on your face, Jimin gets the feeling you're sensing something isn't right either. 

You take a single step and your knees buckle beneath you, a light gasp alerting Jimin to your fall. 

His reaction is in slow-mo, arms scooping around your waist, supporting your sudden weight when you collapse into his embrace. Your hands land on his shoulders, your chest on his chest.  

The rest of the world blurs into a mesh of nothingness until all he can see is you slowly looking up at him, eyes sparkling abnormally bright and lips shimmering temptingly. Your eyelids flutter at him, silently speaking to him in soothing tones. His gaze drop to your lips, filled with an overwhelming urge to kiss you stupid. 

Just as the moment arrives, it disappears when you push yourself off his chest and stand up on your own again. 

"Sorry," you quickly apologize, "I don't know what that was. I just, umm, my legs gave out. Guess I'm dizzier than I thought." You shyly tuck your hair behind your ear and then look at your hand as if it betrayed you. 

"It's okay," Jimin assures you, just as confused. "But...did you happen to see that?" 

"See what?" 

"Nevermind." 

Even if you did see it, what reason does Jimin have to believe you would admit you also experienced whatever fanfic shit that just was. 

Wait. Oh hell no. It can't be. That stuff only happens in video games and movies.

"Hey, ___, when you accidentally walked in front of that car and I pulled you out of the way…you were reading fanfiction, weren't you?" 

You roll your eyes. "Are you seriously going to tease me right after a near death experience? That's low, man." 

"No, no, that's not what I meant," he says. "You're gonna think I'm insane, but…doesn't something feel off to you?" 

You swallow, clearly not about to suggest it yourself but you were thinking the same thing. Your expression shifts to realization mixed with horror, wide eyes and a dropped jaw. 

"What is it?" Jimin urges. 

Without a second thought, you start searching all over the ground, the side of the curb and the grass on the edge of the trees, desperately looking for something. 

"What's wrong?" 

"My phone!" you insist frantically. "Help me find it!" 

Without arguing, Jimin kneels to the ground and starts searching as well. 

Thankfully, you find the device a moment later. The screen is cracked but otherwise it's not broken. It turns on just fine and you unlock it to reveal the screen you were reading right before Jimin pulled you out of the way of that car. 

"I knew it," Jimin clicks his tongue, "you were reading fanfiction and not paying attention. You could have gotten seriously hurt if I hadn't been there, you know." 

"Jimin…" you slowly turn the screen so he can see it clearly. 

"What, I don't get–" he freezes, absolutely horrified. "Is it…how is it…doing that?" 

"I don't know," you reply, releasing a shaky breath as you watch your words appear in quotations on the screen. "Is it commenting on us?" 

You wave your arm in random directions as if that's the best way to test whether or not I actually know what you're doing right now. You look stupid by the way. You should probably stop. 

"Oh fuck, no way," Jimin refuses with a shake of his head, watching each letter appear on the screen in perfect time as it leaves his lips. "Whatever sick trick this is, I'm not a part of it. Make it stop, ___." 

"I'm not doing it!" you insist, unaware that you are in a way, because these are your words being typed right now. 

"No, I'm not!" you insist once again. "Whoever is doing that, we're not in your story so cut it out!" 

Oh, but this isn't my story anymore. It's yours. 

"What?" 

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you better leave us alone right now!" Jimin yells at me. 

But here's the thing, I started this fanfic with the intention of two lovers having a happily ever after and my pairing isn't working very well. So, I had to improvise. 

Welcome to the fic, you two. Let's write some fanfiction, shall we? There's a special pair of idiots who need your help to fall in love. 

"I don't understand…" you reply to me, slightly shaking where you stand. 

Jimin notices, but he's too nervous to reach out and take your hand. He doesn't want to admit it, but he's still hurt from your rejection because he genuinely likes you but sucks at showing his feelings since his mom walked out on him. 

"Hey, isn't that kind of personal?" Jimin spits back at me, just barely keeping himself from throwing the phone against a tree. 

But I actually do need your help. 

"For what?" 

To get this fanfic back on track. There are two characters I've written on this campus who are meant to end up together, but they're not exactly cooperating with me. I need you to find them and get them together to make the happy ending. 

"Why can you just write them together?" 

That's the thing, I lost control of the story. Whatever I end up writing always backfires. You might call it writer's block or poor motivation or just a lack of writing ability, but either way, I need some assistance to get this story back on track. 

If you two will agree to help me, I won't control your actions or dialogue, I promise. You can do and say whatever you want and all I'll do is record what happens. Help me write this story from the inside and I'll let you go afterwards. 

"And if we refuse?" Jimin crosses his arms, watching me type his actions out with a disdainful frown on his face. 

I've got a large following waiting for this fic to come out, so I really need to hurry up and get this done for them. It's for the fans. If you don't help, I can end this fic right now and you'll never escape an unfinished wip. 

"No, you can't," Jimin doesn't believe me. He thinks he's calling my bluff but inside he's nervous I'm telling the truth. 

"Am not!" 

Am too. 

"Am not! You're lying." 

Would you like to test that theory? 

Jimin doesn't actually want to test that theory. 

"Whatever," he grumbles. 

We don't get along apparently, which makes me sad. 

But while Jimin and I have our little squabble, you've been carefully considering my offer, haven't you? 

"Fine." 

"What!?" Jimin reacts in shock at what he just heard. "You're agreeing?" 

"If we do this, we get to go home. Whatever author this is clearly does not intend to let us go unless we agree to help." 

You're right, I don't. 

Jimin pinches the bridge of his nose. He knows he has no choice but to agree. He's going to agree, so I don't know why he's being like this. 

"Yeah, yeah okay enough with the commentary," he sighs. "I'll do it." 

And from that moment on, the world became a little brighter, more in focus, and Jimin felt his point of view slowly returning to his mind. 

"Thanks." 

The internal control to move and breathe and speak becomes apparent in your bones as well, filling your lungs, and sparking the tip of your tongue. You look at Jimin with a worried but attempted brave expression. 

"Where should we even start?" 

In a flash, you and Jimin are standing in the cafeteria of the school. In front of you is a two person table but only one girl sitting alone with her textbook. She's brighter than the rest of the student body and wearing different clothes, which separates her as a main character. The main female lead. 

"Guess that answers that question." 

The rest is up to you. Please, make sure the story has a happy ending. I'm counting on you guys. 

:: 

"You go talk to her." 

"No, you go talk to her." 

"Give me one good reason why I should be the one to talk to her?" 

"Uh, because you're a girl," Jimin points out the obvious, gesturing to your curvaceous figure. "She's the female lead." 

"You're way better at making friends than I am," you argue. 

"Says who?" 

"You're the extrovert." 

Even just looking at her sitting alone intimidates you. Not that you're always introverted, of course, around your family and in familiar environments you're perfectly fine. But you've never been confident in taking the initiative when it comes to meeting new people, not like Jimin. 

He scoffs, "And? This is a fanfic, I don't know how things work in this world. Besides, you're one of her own kind." 

You hit his shoulder, but his tease did lighten the mood, so he calls it a success. The first time you've smiled since waking up with him on the sidewalk. 

"Come on, you're great at bumping into people," you jest, making reference to your interaction at the basketball game with a sly grin. 

"Ha ha, very funny." 

"You don't have to do much, just figure out where we are in the story. Once we know that, we can figure out what's next," you tell him, turning him to face her direction. 

Jimin eyes her from across the cafeteria, nervously biting his lip. Yeah, he's an extrovert but he's not the best at talking to girls. You of all people should know that; he spent months teasing you because he didn't know how to approach you like a normal human. When he first saw you, he thought you were just…too pretty for a casual introduction. 

Granted, this fanfic chick is significantly less attractive than you are. But that doesn't mean she's not a girl. 

"Oh, she's coming this way." You push on his shoulder blades as he leans back, digging his heels into the ground. "Don't lose this chance, Jimin! Do you wanna get out of here?" 

"Don't rush me!" 

With a final shove, Jimin trips forwards, nearly crashing into the girl as she walks by. He manages to catch himself but not before his stumbling lands him right in the pathway of… 

"Oh!" she exclaims, jumping at the surprise of an odd boy suddenly appearing in front of her.

Jimin freezes, eyes wide and staring directly into hers. He softly chuckles and straightens out his jacket. 

"Sorry. I tripped." 

"That's okay," she smiles innocently. "I trip all the time." 

He scratches the back of his head. "You ever fall when you trip?" 

"Huh?" She tilts her head, eyebrows lifted in confusion. 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Jimin by the way," he introduces himself with a handshake, hoping the conversation can start flowing naturally now that the expected awkwardness has hopefully passed. 

The girl accepts his hand, the other tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "It's nice to meet you, Jimin. Do you ever fall when you trip?" 

He blinks. "What?" 

"Nevermind. Umm, I'm Your Name by the way." The girl offers a handshake…again. 

He accepts it (again) with an unsure look, carefully noting how she just repeated him, like word for word. As if she couldn't come up with her own contributions to the conversation. 

"I'm sorry, your name is…?" 

"Me," she smiles innocently, one of the few actions Jimin realizes that she knows how to do. 

"You're…" 

"Your Name." 

"Right, what is it?" 

"My name is Your Name." 

"Your name is Jimin?" 

"No, it's Your Name." 

"I don't get it." 

"You're so funny," she giggles with a soft hand to her lips. 

He huffs, "No, I'm Jimin. Who the heck are you?" 

A harsh slap strikes across his back, echoing across the cafeteria but none of the surrounding students pay it any mind. 

"Ow!" Jimin yelps, retreating from your hand. "What the hell?" 

"It's nice to meet you, Your Name," you say sweetly as if you didn't just leave a nasty red handprint on his back. "I love your top." 

"Oh, thanks! I love your top too." 

"Yep." With a sigh and a nod, you face Jimin and speak directly to him, arms crossed and hip popped out in disappointment. "The author led us to the right girl. She's the reader insert, alright." 

Your Name occupies herself, amazed by her own hands and interlocking her fingers with a wishful sigh. She's been written to fall in love with the man of her dreams, to discover angsty heartbreak and become the apple of her lover's eye. When she's not doing anything directly related to that purpose, she's just an empty shell of a character, a copycat filling space and time until her next scene. 

"She's dumb as a sack of rocks." 

"No one is reading the story right now, remember? The author is still writing it. Your Name is an empty character," you explain, scanning her perfect figure up and down with a jealous click of your tongue. 

"So, if someone reads the story…" 

"Then part of that person's character is reflected in Your Name. It's what makes fanfiction fun to read. You get to put yourself in the story." 

Okay, maybe Jimin sees the attractiveness in that. It's an escape just like video games, except more lame and pitiful. 

Your Name has yet to do or say anything else. She just sways with her hands folded against her chest, mind empty, no thoughts, unable to leave or initiate anything without the author's guidance or some other trigger. 

"Why would anyone want to be her?" 

The doors to the cafeteria burst open, immediately stealing everyone's attention. The whole building pauses in place, heads turning in slow-mo to see what the big commotion is about, choirs of gasps and the sound of panties dropping to the ground left and right. 

In walks sex on legs, dark hair fluffy with a gloved hand brushing through thick bangs, skin tight jeans and a leather bracer around his wrist. He pretends to pull an arrow from the empty quiver on his hip, shooting it and a charming wink in the direction of a cafeteria worker, chuckling when they faint against the wall with a hand over their heart. 

There's only one person who could have that kind of effect simply by walking into the room. 

"That's why," you reply, hypnotized eyes following his every move through the line to get lunch. "The main male lead." 

"So, it's all about the guy, huh?" 

"Obviously. It is a Jungkook fanfic, so yeah."

Jimin gawks. "Wait, that's supposed to be Jeon Jungkook? You mean the singer slash actor in real life?" 

"Yep," you sigh in content. Even if this is a fanfic, you're in the same room as the Jungkook and you'll never forget this day. 

"That dude doesn't know archery," Jimin pouts. 

"It's a fanfic, so he does in this story, okay? Shut up." 

Jimin just rolls his eyes, too proud to admit the way you're staring at that fanfic character makes his blood boil something awful. But you're not the only one entranced. 

Your Name hasn't been able to blink since Jungkook walked in, hands folded shyly at her chest and lips slightly parted. She holds her breath as he struts in her direction, whipping his hair out of his eyes only for it to gracefully fall over his forehead again. 

Jungkook passes by with his lunch, but he doesn't even give Your Name a glance, not even the barest of recognitions. She opens her mouth as if she wants to say something, but no sound comes out. Just a defeated sigh when Jungkook sits down at a table with a bunch of other students and not her. 

She pulls her bag further up her shoulder, putting her head down and walking out of the cafeteria as unnoticeably as possible. Jimin watches her, a surprising sense of sympathy for her despite reminding himself she's a fictional character. 

You lift a finger to your temple, leaning into Jimin's side as you both watch the scene play out. "I understand." 

"What? What just happened?" 

"We have to get Jungkook together with Your Name. She's the shy, unnoticed school girl and he's the popular, sporty hunk with a heart of gold." 

"Oh come on, that's the worst trope ever." He rolls his eyes in Jungkook's direction. "Heart of gold my ass. He just walked right passed Your Name and didn't even flinch." 

"Like you would know anything about fanfic tropes." 

"Video games have tropes too, you know." 

You roll your lips tight when he sticks his tongue out at you, trying not to smile at how cute he was just now. 

"Like what?" 

Jimin begins counting on his fingers. "I could name five off the top of my head." 

"Are any of them the shy school girl and popular sports star?" you ask. 

He drops his hand and expression. "No." 

"Then you can reference video games again when they can actually help us," you say, looking back at Jungkook's table. "For how, we need to figure out a way to get those two together so we can end the fic and get out of here. Any ideas?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I don't know. I'm hungry." 

You're deep in thought, unconcerned with Jimin's empty stomach. He starts rubbing it over his shirt, whining your name and poking your arm over and over. 

"Let's eat something, please." 

"We don't have meal swipes for this place," you reply shortly, shooing his hand away without ever once losing focus on Jungkook. 

Do fanfic characters usually use meal swipes? There's no hurt in trying. The author probably had way better things to write about than whether or not the characters used their meal swipes or paid cash for their lunch. 

Besides, this is the spitting image of your real life cafeteria back on campus. If this school is based on that school, then maybe his meal swipes can work. (Does that mean the author goes to your and Jimin's university? Whoa.) 

You're not going anywhere. Might as well try. 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin uses a meal swipe to get a tray and two plates for a much needed meal break. So, he makes his way around the different stations of the cafeteria and collects a little bit of everything onto a tray, stacking piles of dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese especially tall. 

After tucking two canned sodas under his arm, Jimin finds you right where he left you. Standing in the middle of the floor, eyes glued to the archery star, and biting your nail into a numb. 

"Hey. You should eat something." 

You look to find the tray of food he's gathered, impressed but mostly grateful. 

"You're probably right," you finally admit when your stomach unmistakably starts gurgling. "Food is important." 

"Come on, we can think of a plan while we eat." 

The two of you make your way to a free table within eye shot of Jungkook's table and slip into opposite booths. Jimin pops open your soda for you, a small smirk on his lips when you gasp at the meal in front of you. 

"Dino nuggets and mac 'n cheese? Oh fuck yes, my favorite nostalgic meal ever! How did you know?" 

"It's mine too." 

:: 

After a lengthy discussion at the cafeteria, you and Jimin decide to map out what you already know and what you need to know on the way to an upcoming archery tournament. 

Seeing as Jungkook didn't pay Your Name any mind in the cafeteria, but he also didn't display any tension to suggest a break up or fight, it's safe to assume they haven't met yet. Which means you're at the start of the fic, the very very beginning. Depending on the author, this could be a 5K marathon or a 25K marathon. 

As the author, I'll give you a hint: it's longer than 5K. 

You stuff your phone back into your jean pocket after reading the update, feeling tired just thinking about the work ahead of you. 

"Author said it's a lengthy fic. Which means we've got multiple scenes to get through. We could be here for a while." 

Jimin swings his arms as he walks beside you, keeping to the outside of the sidewalk so he's closer to the road. 

"Shit." 

"Yeah," you sigh, fanning yourself. 

"Are you warm?" 

"Are you not?" you ask in shock, upgrading to two-handed fanning. "It's a million degrees out here. How are you still wearing that jacket?" 

Jimin shrugs. "I'm fine." 

The sun beats down on your sweater harshly, punishing you for still having it on. Soon enough, you can't bear it anymore. Your arms cross in front of you, fingers pinching the hem of your top and pulling it over your head to reveal a white tank underneath. Instant relief hits your skin. 

You tie the sleeves of your sweater around your waist and tie up your hair so it's off your neck. 

"Much better," you sigh to yourself. Now maybe you can actually think without getting heat stroke. 

"So–" Jimin clears his throat, eyes forward and nowhere else. "So you've read this story before, right?" 

"I've read stories similar to it, so it should be pretty simple to figure out. The archery tournament should be a good place to start. Sport events are usually where major plot development happens." 

"I sure hope you're right." 

Of course, you're right. Jungkook is the archery champion and Your Name is bound to be around here somewhere. After all, who would give up the chance to watch their crush excel at what they do best? 

No doubt, this scene will be an important milestone in their relationship. You just have to remember your role as wing woman and make sure Jungkook notices Your Name this time around. 

The field is decorated with targets and large, fake deer in the distance. All the archers are dressed in their gear, looking fine as heck you must admit. Never thought archery would do it for you but the strap across the chest and holster around the waist accentuates more curves than you were ready for. Damn. 

"There." You direct Jimin's attention with the point of your finger at the provided refreshments. "Your Name is by the water dispenser." 

You call out to her as you approach, ducking to avoid the many eyes of the bleachers because good god there's a lot of students here. The crowd makes you feel rather uneasy, but you push your introverted tendencies to the side and focus on the task at hand. 

"Oh, hi ___. Hi, Jimin," she greets you happily. 

Jimin nods at her, but his focus is on getting a cup of water. 

"Are you excited for the archers? Who do you think is gonna win?" you ask with a friendly touch to her arm, trying to be social. 

"Of course!" she answers with an innocent smile. "Jungkook will win for sure." 

"Have you cheered him on yet?" Jimin asks Your Name while handing you the cup of water. You gratefully down it. So, he gets you another one. 

"Everyone is cheering for Jungkook." 

"But did you tell him personally that you're cheering for him?" 

Your Name's smile fades a little, pulling back into a shy expression as she tucks her hair behind her ear. 

"No." 

"You totally should," Jimin says while you gulp down the second cup of water he filled for you. "He'd appreciate the support." 

"You think?" 

"Trust me, I'm a guy. If a cute girl like you wished me good luck on my tournament, hell I'd wanna win just for you." 

Her cheeks instantly flush, eyelids fluttering as her body turns to face Jimin fully, the dim around her light starting to shine brighter. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, sure." 

Your Name rolls her lips, running fingers through the tips of her hair. "Do you have a tournament coming up? I'd love to cheer for you, Jimin." 

"Me?" He blinks. "Uhh, no. I'm not really into sports." 

"What are you into?" 

"Gaming," he says slowly. 

"That's so cool!" 

"Umm…" 

Jimin shares a look with you out of the side of his eye, unsure how the focus shifted to his interests. You interrupt with a hand on her shoulder, low-key turning her to face Jungkook's direction again. 

"Jungkook is into archery. Isn't that cool?" 

Your Name's neck stays turned toward Jimin until you place two palms on your cheeks and make her look in the direction of the archery team. 

She scans Jungkook head to toe. The archer tightens his quiver, adjusting it on his hip before bending over to tie his shoe. Never thought you'd be jealous of a man's ass but goddamn, the author blessed him with zero regard for their weak audience. 

"Wish him good luck like this, watch me–" You hold up two fists and smile as big as you possibly can, making your voice higher pitched and turning your knees in for a cuter effect. "You can do it, Oppa! Fighting!" 

Jimin nearly does a spit take. You're fucking adorable. 

Your Name seems unsure though. "You really think he'll notice me if I do that?" 

"I'm sure he will. Now go get 'em!" You give her a little booty pat to send her on her way. 

She timidly makes her way over to Jungkook while you and Jimin observe. This will work. This has to work. Jungkook doesn't have to fall in love with her right now, you remind yourself. All this has to do is get him to notice her, put her in his radar. This is the meet cute, the part where he realizes she's on his side. He finds a companion in someone he never expected, a shy bookworm he's never noticed is his biggest fan. 

Jimin leans into your ear and whispers, "Call me Oppa. Just once." 

"Not even in your dreams." 

"Damn it. Worth a try." 

While Your Name doesn't knock his socks off like you hoped, at least Jungkook recognized her efforts and thanked her for the cheer. They don't immediately hit it off and he doesn't look for her in the crowd during the tournament, but that's okay. He knows she exists now, so essentially this scene completed its purpose. 

It's almost halfway through the tournament and nothing else has happened. Your Name sat down in the bleachers looking somewhat lost as to where to go since you claimed her spot by the water dispenser. 

"Don't worry," Jimin says, watching Jungkook shoot his third bullseye in a row, "it's not a 5K fic, remember? Something new will happen any second. The plot has to progress somehow." 

Wouldn't you know it, Jimin is right. 

From seemingly nowhere, an arrow comes shooting right at you. Instinctively, you squat to the ground at the sound of the arrow whistling past you, piercing and shattering the water dispenser beside you. In slow-mo, of course.  

A small wave of water spills out, soaking through your tank and all down your back. 

All you can do is squat there for a moment, taking in what the actual hell just happened. The slow-mo effect dissipates but the entire field has gone quiet, including the idiot who just shot that arrow. 

Jimin kneels in front of you. "Oh my god! Are you okay? That arrow didn't hit you, did it?" 

You shake your head, staring at the ground in silent shock, panic rising in your chest. 

"Thank god," he hangs his head in utter relief and sighs, "that was way too close." 

You agree, trying to catch your breath when he offers you a hand to help you stand. 

The moment you're back on your feet, your whole fanfic world freezes. Even Jimin's eyes have gone wide and his tongue gets tied. 

You immediately cross your arms over your chest, curling in on yourself and trying to cover your soaked through white tank top that's sticking to you like a wetsuit, totally and completely see through. Your brightly colored bra does little to help the situation. 

Jimin doesn't hesitate for a single second. He strips his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders, zipping it to your chin. When you don't move, he pulls you into his chest for some extra coverage and comfort. 

You're not sure what to do, so your face ends up hiding in his chest, eyes squeezed shut, wishing you could disappear in his arms. 

"Come on," he whispers, ushering you off the field, one of his arms wrapped around you protectively while the other hovers over your face so you don't see the eyes of the crowd watching you exit. 

Consequently, you don't see Jungkook's curious eyes following you either. 

Jimin sits you down on a bench a little ways around the corner where there are no spectators. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, kneeling in front of you, hand resting on the bench beside your thigh. 

Your stale expression doesn't shift but your eyes start to fill with tears, the white of your pupils turning pink and your eyelids fluttering at the sting. 

Jimin feels his heart drop at the same time your first tear does. The first time he's ever seen you cry. 

"Everyone was staring at me. They wouldn't stop staring…" 

For the first time, Jimin is witnessing how much your introverted personality affects you. Being embarrassed is a common human experience, but it's so much worse for you. Those kinds of things are only magnified by a thousand due to your already anxious state in large crowds. 

Your body closes up, limbs curling in on themselves even further inside Jimin's jacket.

"They all saw, didn't they?" 

"No," he says immediately, causing your eyes to lift hopefully. "I was quick with the jacket, so I don't think anyone saw much of anything." 

You sniffle. "You're sure?" 

"Absolutely." 

You know he's being kind, trying to make you feel better. Usually when people say things for the sole purpose of making you feel better, it doesn't help much. But even though you know Jimin is lying, his little smile and confident nose scrunch are cute enough to make you relax somewhat. 

"Thanks," you shrug as a gesture to his jacket around your shoulders. 

He smiles at you and it makes things a little better somehow. The background blurs, allowing you to focus only on him, putting the rest of the situation into perspective and making things feel all a little less daunting. Life doesn't feel as serious when Jimin smiles, and that's a rare experience for you. Out here, away from all the people, you can regather yourself and process things clearly. 

You wanna touch him, just to be in physical contact with him again, but he stands up first, making your jerk your hand away from where it was reaching out inconspicuously. 

"I'll go get you a towel and see if I can steal a dry shirt from someone." 

"You're leaving?" The question popped out before you could stop it. 

He holds back a teasing smile. "Should I stay here?" 

"No, it's fine," you say quickly, turning your knees in. "Go get me a shirt. Hurry up." 

He just snickers, whispering "cute" under his breath before sticking his hands in his jean pockets and casually making his way back toward the archery field. If anything, Your Name will probably have an extra top you can borrow. It'll be small but it'll probably work in a pinch. 

Now that you think about it, you might be in this fic for a while. What about clothes, sleep and hygiene? Do you have a room in the dorms or will you and Jimin have to scrap on the side of the street for basic necessities? The author wouldn't leave you in that horrible situation, would they? 

"Hey, you." 

That's not Jimin's voice. 

You turn your head to see none other than the main male lead confidently coming over to your bench. 

"Just wanted to check on you and make sure you're okay," he says. 

You nod, trying not to be stunned speechless that your in real life celebrity crush is speaking to you as a fanfic character in an alternative universe. Holy shit! 

Jungkook smiles. "Thank goodness. I saw that arrow heading towards you and I think my heart stopped for a solid minute. You've got quick reflexes." 

"Thankfully," you exhale. "My life definitely flashed before my eyes though." 

"What did you see?" he casually asks, taking a seat beside you on the bench. 

You're suddenly very aware of how close he is, shoulder to shoulder. When he turns his head toward you, the little sparkles in his eyes become noticeable and you can make out a small freckle on the underside of the curve of his bottom lip. 

"I saw school. My family. My friends." 

"A boyfriend?" 

"No." 

"You're single?" 

You nod slowly. "Yes." 

Jungkook seems pleased to hear this. He adjusts in his seat, a confident smug on his lips and an indifferent shrug on his shoulders. 

"We should maybe go out sometime, if you're interested. You know, we could be…friends?" 

If you were feeling more confident or outgoing in this moment, you might call him out on the fact that he just confirmed you were single and then asked you out as a friend when you guys don't even know each other. He definitely thought he was smoother than he actually was just now. 

"Yeah sure," you reply, rather small and quiet. 

"Great," Jungkook hands you his phone. "Put in your number." 

With no reason not to in your mind, you do as he requests, adding a signature koala emoji at the end of your name. 

"Why a koala?" he asks amused. 

"They're cute."

"You're cuter." 

Damn, that response was fast. As if he had it right on the tip of his tongue, ready to go for anyone. 

Surprisingly, it doesn't make you nearly as fluttery as you expected. It was a good line, but the Flynn Rider smolder just isn't doing it for you right now.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear but it's not flattering and it doesn't make your heart flutter. There's no slow-mo and the world around you doesn't disappear. Actually, it feels kind of awkward and he doesn't put your hair in the right place so it just falls again. 

Jungkook stands, slipping his phone into his pocket now that he's got your info. 

"I'll text you," he promises before waving goodbye, his other hand scratching the back of his head bashfully as if he's not used to getting girl's numbers. He totally is though. 

Okay. Okay, don't freak out. This is a good thing. Now you've got a connection with both Your Name and Jungkook. This way will be easier to manipulate their relationship and eventually write a happy ending. That's the goal. In order to get out of here, you need a happy ending. That's what the author asked for. 

Jimin returns a few moments later with a dry shirt and a towel. You tell him what happened, and he doesn't seem very pleased that Jungkook has your phone number. Not that he's willing to tell you why that bothers him, but either way what's done is done. 

Now it's time for the next chapter. 

:: 

"Actually, I think we should chill for now." 

Jimin can't be serious, is he serious?  

"I mean, why not? It's almost night anyway. Look, the sun is setting and we haven't even had dinner yet." 

"Okay, so we go back to the cafeteria, get some dino nuggies, and then keep working," you reply. 

But your dear companion doesn't seem too thrilled with that plan. He shakes his head, face scrunched in displeasure. 

"Let's go out instead. I don't want dino nuggies." 

You gasp, hand over your heart. "Don't want dino nuggies? When does anyone not want dino nuggies? They are the only matter in existence not capable of disappointment." 

Jimin laughs with you, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Why are you suddenly disappointed? 

"Yeah, okay. I still would rather go get pizza or something," he comments. 

"With pineapple?" 

"Ew, no I'm not a psychopath." 

"Well, I just figured since you don't want dino nuggies, there must be something wrong with you." 

Jimin rolls his eyes, not noticing the cute way you smile at him, genuinely enjoying your conversation. He's actually kinda fun to talk to. He's sweeter than you originally thought when all you knew about him was that he liked to tease you. There's something captivating about the shape of his mouth when he talks, the movement of his neck, the shifting of his eyes from you to the sunset. 

He leans back on his hands and looks out at the campus. The best place to get a bird's eye view is up here at the monogram. You can see the whole campus. Just as you expected, it's an exact replica of your campus back in real life. 

Somehow, you find yourself watching his profile instead, the lines of his jaw and the curve of his nose. He's got soft features and they match his personality really well, you think. He's handsome and he's not going to abandon you here. He proved that today. 

"Hey." 

Jimin turns his head to look at you. 

"I'm glad you're here with me." Your heart rate spikes as soon as you say those words, the realization that you just said them out loud hits you like a ton of bricks. "I mean, I'm not glad we're stuck in a fanfic, that sucks, but if I'm gonna be stuck in here, it would suck more to be alone because then, you know, it would be worse because I'd be alone, not without you specifically but just alone in general, ummm….I guess." 

He just waits patiently until you're done stuttering like an idiot, his smile slowly growing with each embarrassed syllable. His eyes are full of fondness but you don't notice them while you're too busy trying to calm the palpitations in your chest by picking at blades of grass. What's this nervous energy all of a sudden? 

"We can have pineapple on the pizza if you want," he says casually. 

"I don't like pineapple." You steal a glance at him only to do a double take when you find him grinning like an idiot. "What's that face for?" 

"Because I didn't know that about you. And now I do." 

You're not sure how to respond, so you just scoff under your breath, muttering to yourself and pulling your knees to your chest, suppressing the desire to ask him about his favorite dino nuggie shape. 

"Wanna bring the pizza back up here and eat?" 

"Yeah, that sounds nice." 

:: 

How you fell asleep outside, you'll never know. How you ended up cuddled beside Jimin is even more of a mystery. 

Beside is a weak term to use when your whole body is curled into his front, one leg slipped between his legs and your arms tucked between your chests. He's lazily wrapped around you, arm laid across your side and nose almost touching yours. 

When the chill of midnight wakes you up, you're sure it's a dream. His eyes happen to open at the same moment, a deep inhale through his nose as his world comes into view, as you come into view. 

"Hi," he grumbles, voice scratchy and low. 

"Am I dreaming about you now?" 

"You probably got cold." 

You look down, trying to move your leg but it doesn't want to pull away from the comfy spot it's found between his legs. When you look back up, he's watching you softly, half lidded eyes swollen from a rough few hours and the greasy pizza. 

"So, this is a dream." 

"Depends," his lips move through the dark, the feeling of his knuckle softly rubbing your cheek down to your chin and finally across your bottom lip, "if it is, are you gonna move?" 

"No." 

"Then this is a dream." 

"Good." 

:: 

"What if you pretend to be in love with Your Name?" 

Jimin doesn't seem too excited about that suggestion. He lifts one brow and sticks his hands in his pockets, glancing over his shoulder at where the female lead sits at the opposite side of the cafeteria. 

"But I don't like her," he says flatly, "plus she's a fanfic character. It doesn't make sense to ask her out." 

"It doesn't have to make sense. It's a fanfic," you argue, leaning your back against the wall. "Plus, she's cute, come on. We need her to trust us." 

Not as cute as you. And she's dumb. Jimin doesn't know if he could last a whole evening as her date let alone pretend to be attracted to her. She's not his type anyway. 

"Statistically, dating someone based on physical attraction alone only works like two percent of the time," he assures you, sticking out his tongue at the sour taste of just the idea. 

"Well, just pretend this is one of the times when it does." 

"Sorry, I don't have enough experience points for that." 

You roll your eyes. "Ha ha, very funny. Just go ask her out. We don't have any other ideas than to make Jungkook jealous somehow, and me dating Jungkook won't work because Your Name is too timid to act on jealousy." 

Well, that does it. Now Jimin is determined to find a better solution. There's got to be a way to get those crazy kids together that doesn't involve you getting with Jungkook or Jimin acting like he can last longer than ten minutes with Your Name before wanting to suck his brain out through his ears. 

"Look, every story has an algorithm, right? We just have to find this storyline's algorithm and use it to make the ending get here faster so we can get the fuck out of here." 

"What do you mean?" you ask, not following along at all. But you're interested in where Jimin is going with this exactly. 

He glances across the room at Your Name, eyes bouncing between her seat on the far wall and Jungkook's table surrounded by fellow archers who think they're cool because they can shoot a tree from thirty yards. 

"Okay, hear me out," Jimin starts talking with his hands, which means he wants you to really listen, so you do, "you know how in video games–" 

"No." 

He rolls his eyes but there's no mistaking that tiny smile hidden in the corner of his lips. "Well in video games there's something called an algorithm." 

"This is fanfiction, Jimin, algorithms are a math thing." 

"They're also a story thing. The algorithm is the step by step process of what eventually gets you to the ending. It's what draws you in, makes it attractive. Sorta like the formula to the story. Predictability." 

"Okay," you reply slowly. "I think I understand." 

"So, what's the algorithm of this fanfic? What's the thing that makes the story move forward to get to the ending?" 

You have to think for a moment, consider the characters and setting. What's the main premise that's going to eventually trigger the progression of the storyline? The glue between the romantic interests? 

"Opposites attract?" 

"Getting warmer." He taps his chin. "Anything else it could be?" 

"Sexual tension?" 

"That's it, you're a genius!" Jimin lights up. 

A sense of warmth fills your cheeks knowing you answered correctly, and you have to stop yourself from smiling like a middle schooler when Jimin praises you. 

He leans in closer, placing his hands on either side of you on the wall, encasing your smaller frame in his presence. 

"A build up of sexual tension between two unlikely characters," his eyes trace the lines of your nose to your lips, "that eventually erupts in a heated finale of confession and passion." 

You exhale, unaware you were even holding your breath, chest sinking and then filling up again with much needed oxygen. 

There's that infamous slow-mo, the one that keeps happening during the most inconvenient moments. You're still not sure if Jimin also experiences it - probably not - but it's doing things to you. 

His features become softer and rounder, the illusion of a blurry background causes your attention to be enraptured that much easier. His eyes gently blink and when they open, they've moved upward, now looking directly into yours. 

The moment is all too fleeting when his expression shifts into something horrified and he suddenly clears his throat and stands up straight again. 

You brush off your clothes, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible because whatever the heck that was has no impact on the goal at hand. No matter how unusually pretty his eyes are. 

"So," you pull your hair over your shoulder and then toss it back again, "we need to build sexual tension between Jungkook and Your Name." 

"Luckily, Your Name already thinks Jungkook is sexy. But how to make Jungkook notice her…" Jimin comments, a hand on his hip and the other scratching his head. 

And then an idea clicks in your mind. "A costume change." 

"Be serious." 

"I am serious. In fanfiction, when a character changes their outfit to something sexy or different from their usual vibe, it makes the other characters notice them. OC's do it all the time." 

Jimin guesses that could work. He tries to put it into perspective by imagining you wearing something you normally wouldn't. His gaming sweatshirt would be much too big for you considering it's big on him. The zipper is broken so it would probably fall off your one shoulder. His cat ear headset certainly would be a costume change, not to mention the sight of your beautiful legs in leggings, or even better, oversized pajama shorts and fluffy socks. He imagines how cute you'd be sitting in his lap and letting him teach you how to use the controller, whining when your character dies for the tenth time but then getting so happy when you win. 

Maybe you even twist around and hug his neck, maybe you're so happy you give him a kiss. Maybe the two of you get so caught up in the kiss that you forget the game and end up straddling his lap in his gamer chair. Maybe things get a little heated and he takes off your sweatshirt. You're nervous but he makes sure you're comfortable first and foremost because he just wants you to feel safe and loved because you deserve to be taken care of and kissed like that. You deserve so much. 

Yeah, a costume change could work. 

Jimin responds before his imagination can go further, "Okay, so how do we do that?" 

At that moment, your phone vibrates with a text from an unknown number. 

[unknown] hey there cutie ;) it's JK ;) my team is throwing a party tonight to celebrate our win at the tournament ;) wanna swing by? ;) 

Putting aside the major turn off that Jungkook just asked you to a party without indicating that he will be taking any kind of responsibility for the fact that he invited you to a party, this is just what the doctor ordered. 

You show Jimin the screen. "Boom." 

"Why four winky faces? Wait a damn minute, is he asking you out on a date right now?" 

"Yep." 

"Didn't even offer to pick you up," he grumbles, "what a loser." 

"It's still a party." 

"I guess." 

"A sexy party," you clarify, "probably with alcohol. There'll be a bunch of NPC's and I'll make sure Your Name wears something that'll catch Jungkook's attention." 

As much as Jimin is dreading going to a major social event that's not a sports game or gaming tournament, he can't deny that this is probably going to be your greatest chance at making some progress in the story. 

He gives a little side eye, a smile in the corner of his lips as the two of you head to get food. "I didn't think you knew any video game lingo." 

You nudge his shoulder as you walk. "I know a little. I live in the 21st century after all." 

Jimin commits your giggle to his memory because, damn, it wasn't slow-mo but he felt his world light up because of it. 

You get two trays and casually make your way over to where Your Name is finishing up her lunch. 

"Hey, mind if we join you?" 

"Sure," she smiles innocently - is it just you or is it annoying how symmetrical and sweet her smile is? 

Jimin takes the seat between you both, instantly regretting the decision when Your Name scoots a little closer so their shoulders touch. He looks at you as if you're going to fix it, but you brush it off, starting to eat while moving the conversation along. 

"So, Your Name, did you get the invite to Jungkook's party?" 

"I heard about it–" wow news travels fast in fanfics, "--but I haven't gotten an invitation." 

"You're in luck! Jimin needs a plus one." 

"I do?" the unsuspecting victim asks in terror. 

Your Name instantly starts acting shy, leaning even closer to him but turning her face away and only glancing to feign vulnerability or whatever other reason girls do that shit. 

"You're going to the party, Jimin?" 

"Apparently." He glares at you. 

"I'd love to be your plus one. I don't typically go to parties, but it might be fun to go together." She bites her lip, catching Jimin's easily distracted attention. 

Wait a second, is he actually staring at her? 

"Really? You want to go with me?" 

"Yeah, I really do!" 

His expression softens. "No girl has ever wanted to go to a party with me. I'm kind of a geek." 

Your Name shakes her head with a gasp, placing a hand on his bicep with a subtle squeeze. "Oh no! You're not a geek at all! You're the coolest guy I know." 

You swear there are hearts in her eyes. Bitch. Can she back the fuck up? He's not a piece of meat. 

Jimin looks totally lost. Flustered and very lost. Clearly, he's never been in this situation before. He turns to you for guidance and you reach around him to peel her hand off his arm, starting to regret your plan of having them go together. 

"Sounds like you guys have a plan then." That came out a little more disappointed than you intended. 

"Yeah," Your Name agrees with a soft giggle. "Should I meet you there?" 

"I'll pick you up." Because that's what a gentleman does. 

"Kay." She sways back and forth for a moment just looking at him, eventually picking up her tray and gathering her bookbag. "See you later then, Jiminie." 

She practically skips away, her little skirt bouncing at her thighs. Jimin watches until she's out of the building, out of the scene, out of sight. And then he collapses in the booth with a tired sigh. 

"That was intense." 

"Jiminie?" you mock and cross your arms. "Where does she get off calling you Jiminie? You're not even dating, it's just a party." 

"If you're that jealous, you can call me Jiminie too." 

"I'm not jealous." Your reply is a little too fast, mumbling after, "...nothing to be jealous about." 

He wants to call you out but you're cute like this, and he doesn't want to stifle your jealousy just yet. So instead, he lets you grumble through the rest of your meal together, resting his cheek in his hand and chuckling to himself each time you roll your eyes or stuff your cheeks a bit too full to keep yourself from cursing out loud. 

:: 

Jimin doesn't own trendy clothes. Actually, in this universe, he doesn't own any extra clothes. Turns out when you get transported into a fanfic, your dorm room doesn't come with you. A dumb rule but whatever. 

Thankfully, Jungkook is kind enough to lend him some party wear at your request. Not that the archery star is obligated to share his exclusive wardrobe, but he wants to get on your good side, and Jimin is in desperate need of an upgrade. 

Jimin steps out of the closet and grimaces. "It's a little…tight." 

"That's the point." Jungkook whistles. "Girls like tight." 

"I like breathing." 

"You look hot." 

Despite his requests for something more comfortable, Jungkook is not the most accommodating character. His compliments help a little bit, but Jimin can't sit down without popping a button and that's an issue. 

After Jimin has been dressed comes the agonizing process of choosing what Jungkook will wear to his own party. He leans against the door frame while Jungkook pulls more shirts from the closet and tosses them on the bed one by one. 

"So," Jimin talks in the meantime, casually looking at his feet and the walls, "you sure you're cool coming with me to pick up Your Name?" 

"Yeah, of course, man," Jungkook says, trying on the first top and checking it out in the mirror. "___ will be there anyway, so I'll just pick her up at the same time." 

The fact that Jungkook was not going to pick you up without the convenience of Jimin's date is just outrageous. As if guys should need a reason to be gentlemen. But apparently Jungkook needs more than that. If you ask Jimin, he needs a reality check. How ironic. 

"Plus she's your girlfriend, so I don't mind," Jungkook adds. 

Jimin's eyes go wide. "Your Name? She's not my girlfriend," he quickly corrects. 

"She's not?" Jungkook seems shocked, but then shrugs it off. "Oh." 

"Oh?" 

"It's just…does she know that?" 

"What do you mean?" 

Jungkook sighs as if he's not supposed to be sharing this secret information. He slips a shirt over his head, taking his time in answering while Jimin's concern grows out of hand. 

"Your Name has been going around telling everyone that you asked her to the party, so people just kinda assumed you two are a thing." 

"I didn't – I mean, I guess I did sorta ask her but it was more of a convenience thing. I don't like her like that," Jimin says. 

"No worries, man, you don't have to explain anything to me." 

Surprised his answer was satisfactory, Jimin decides now may be an excellent time to lure the conversation in a different direction. He's not only here to get an outfit for the party, he's here on a mission. Step one to get Jungkook and Your Name together is to get Jungkook thinking about her. 

"So like, if someone else wanted to ask out Your Name, that'd be totally fine." 

"Cool." 

Jimin nonchalantly drags his toe across the ground, picking at his nails and shrugging as if his next comment isn't meant to be important. 

"Would you wanna ask her out?" 

"Me?" Jungkook chuckles to himself. "I mean, she's cute but I don't really know her that well. I'm glad you're the one bringing her actually." 

"Why?" 

"Your Name is friends with ___, right?" 

Uh oh. Jimin doesn't like where this is going if this is going where he thinks this is going. There was a sliver of hope left that Jungkook hadn't completely counted Your Name out of the game, but it looks like his worst fear is becoming more and more real. 

"I'd rather get to know ___ better to be honest. She's less, you know, ditsy." 

Well, Jimin can't argue with that statement. He keeps trying, he has to. Even if the hope of getting out of this story without any broken hearts is already long gone. 

"Your Name is cute though," he says in a positive tone. 

"Yeah, of course she is." Jungkook's head drops back and he smiles at the ceiling like an idiot. "But ___ is just…" 

Incredible? Enchanting? Hilarious? Genuine? Smart? Dedicated? Inspirational? 

"Hot." 

Jimin waits for him to say something else – something about your humor or sense of individuality or favorite shape of dino nuggies – but Jungkook doesn't mention any of Jimin's favorite things about you. 

"Just hot?" 

"What, you don't think so?" 

"Of course, I think she's attractive." 

"You'd have to be blind not to," Jungkook winks, gathering his shoes and spritzing some cologne into the air just to walk under it. "Besides, I'm supposed to be the hottest girl on campus." 

"Who said that?" 

Jungkook's attitude shifts for a moment, something somber that makes him appear more human than he has before. His usual main character glow dims and a filter flickers for just a moment, long enough for Jimin to glimpse something that was hidden before. 

"You know, just people. I mean, if I'm not supposed to get the girl, then what? What should I do?" 

It's a weird moment, one that Jimin isn't quite sure how to label. There's a dullness in Jungkook's eyes, behind which is a thought he'd never thought before. His eyes lower to the floor in a few blinks, the corners of his lips sinking too, and then it hits Jimin like a truck. 

Jungkook isn't happy. Not by a long shot. 

He shakes it off as soon as Jimin notices it and plasters his winning, stunning smile over whatever realism was showing. 

"How do I look?" 

Like the boy of every girl's dream. It hurts a little bit to look at Jungkook and know that's your type. Because Jimin will never be that guy. It's not his character, not his profile. He won't ever be a fanfic boy who wears designer clothes and always says the right thing and has perfect hair. He won't ever be good at archery or acting, or be able to make you swoon simply by walking across the room. 

You want a Jungkook guy, and that's not Jimin. 

"You look perfect." 

:: 

Your Name is so pretty, there's no question. The girl of every boy's dream. But her wardrobe is…well. Let's just say her style is a bit bright compared to your preferred color palette. 

"Come on!" she urges you, bouncing on her bed and clapping her dainty hands. "Let's see it!" 

This is so stupid. Clothes are not this important, so why you have to try on fifteen different outfits just to make a fanfic character happy doesn't sound logical. Then again, has anything in this world been logical so far? 

You shyly step out of the closet and into view, pulling down the material of your skirt to your mid-thigh. Layers of bracelets and patterned stockings flatter your body type while your halter top shows off round shoulders. 

"Wow," she says breathlessly, "you're beautiful." 

Okay maybe you feel a little pretty, but you didn't come here to get compliments. As long as she doesn't make you change again, perhaps you can actually make some progress on the story. 

"Make up time!" Your Name announces, patting the seat in front of her mirror for you to sit. 

"Oh, I don't need any, thanks." 

"Of course, you don't need any, but it's fun to wear it," she gives you a sassy shoulder and clicks her tongue, gesturing for you to sit anyway. 

Her smile says you don't have the choice. 

As she starts with some cleansing pads to make sure your skin is ready, you figure this is as good as any time to talk about what girls usually talk about during scenes like this. 

"So, boys," you start with an awkward chuckle, "they're cute." 

"Boys are the best!" 

"Especially Jungkook. He's super cute, right?" You open one eye while she does the shadow for the other. 

Her lips spread into a sly grin, pausing your makeup so she can gasp. "Do you like Jungkook?" 

"What? Me? No!" 

"You totally do! You have a crush on Jungkook, oh my god! That's so cute, ___, you guys are so cute together. I can totally see it!" 

"No! I don't have a crush on Jungkook, he's just a friend. I swear." You have to cut her off before she gets too excited about this completely wrong idea.

"Oh." She seems disappointed. "But isn't he taking you to the party?" 

"He's – well, yeah – but it's more of a convenience thing. I don't like him like that." 

"Then who's your crush?" 

"It's–" 

Whoa, were you about to say Jimin? You'd have to cut your tongue off if it did that. Unacceptable and unhelpful, why would he even be on your mind right now? This scene isn't about who you like anyway. 

"I don't have a crush." Playing it off with a vague statement is probably wise. 

Your Name pauses where she stands, a glitch-like twitch on her lips when she tries to respond. She starts to speak but backspaces over and over, like an unsure author rewriting a line again and again. 

"But…you're such girlfriend material," she finally gets a full sentence out. 

"Thanks, but that doesn't mean I have to crush on someone." 

She actually looks a little worried for you as well as confused. "Then what do you do all day?" 

"Go to school, play games, study, hang out with friends, write fanfi– uhh, write fantasy stories." That was a close one. "Just whatever makes me happy." 

"Oh." 

It's very faint, but you swear you see her eyes dull for a moment. Her main character gleam flickers out and what's left seems…real. Her shoulders slump into a lower position, the usual pep in her limbs drained while this seemingly brand new concept swims in her mind. 

She looks down at herself unimpressed, unsure. 

"Do you wanna change your clothes? They look uncomfortable," you ask slowly, not wanting to assume but also not trying to hinder whatever sudden character development may be happening. 

"Oh no! I wasn't…well, I'm supposed to…I dressed up for Jiminie," she tells you innocently, "but the skirt is kinda…short, I think." 

You take her hands and smile confidently. "Do you have an outfit you feel more comfortable in?" 

She nods. 

"Then you should wear that instead." 

"What if Jiminie doesn't like it?" she frowns. 

"So what? To hell with what Jimin thinks. To hell with what any boy thinks." You stand with half done makeup, Your Name's gaze following you in wonder and amazement. "Is it in your closet?" 

She tentatively follows behind, watching you search through the many dresses and skirts hanging prettily organized by color and style. 

"Which one is it?" you ask over your shoulder. 

Your Name shyly points to the very back of the closet, to a small dresser with a single drawer. You open it and immediately gasp. 

"Your Name, this is perfect!" 

"Really?" 

"Of course!" You pull out the clothes and hold them up to her frame, giggling at the sight of her lips slowly twisting into perhaps the first genuine smile you've witnessed from her. "It's your favorite outfit, right?" 

"Yeah," she shyly admits. "Because it's comfy." 

Then your eyes light up brighter than any main character, an aura of gentleness and genius emitting from your very body. 

"Do you have a second pair?" 

:: 

He's not sure why he's so nervous. It's not this is a legit date, plus he doesn't even like Your Name. 

Jungkook gives him a nudge. "Smile when she comes down the stairs. Girls like that."

The previous conversation lingers in Jimin's mind, different possible outcomes if he had said something else, if he had kept the convo focused on Your Name for a little while longer. Eventually, the boys got to talking about archery and Jungkook led the conversation from there with hardly enough time for Jimin to comment. 

For what it was all worth, Jimin didn't mind hearing about the different types of arrows and their tendencies when matched with a recurve bow versus a compound bow. Jungkook is clearly passionate about it, so he let the fanfic character rant. It's what friends do. 

"Are they almost done?" Jungkook checks his phone and chuckles. "Girls. They take forever to get all dolled up, huh? It's cute that ___ wants to look nice for me." 

Jimin starts to reply, but it's pointless when you arrive at the top of the stairs. 

"Hi, guys! Sorry for making you wait." 

With absolutely zero concern for your posture, you skip down the stairs, jumping off the last one and landing directly in front of Jungkook. 

"I'm ready!" 

He gawks at you, blinking and unable to utter a single word. You're wearing a blue sweatshirt with matching solid blue sweatpants. Your hair is tied into a messy bun, all makeup cleaned off, and ugg boots with bows on the back. The only accessory is a cute pair of casual studs in your ears that match your blue aesthetic. 

You give him a once-over and smile. "You look nice, Jungkook." 

"___," Jimin catches your attention while Jungkook glitches, unable to hold in his laugh when you rock on your tiptoes and hold your hands behind your back, "what's with the sweatsuit?" 

"Your Name picked it out." 

"She did?" He's surprised, as you expected. 

"Yep!" You turn back to the stairs and call for the last member of your group. "Come on, we're gonna be late!" 

All eyes are on Your Name as she appears in a matching pink set of sweats and classic black ugg boots. Her usually perfect hair is half up, half down in a braided bun, and this moment officially marks the first time a boy has ever seen her without makeup. 

She shyly begins her descent, immediately reaching for your hand when she joins the group. 

"Hi, Jimin," she swallows nervously. 

"Your Name," he smiles, offering her his hand instead, "you look pretty in pink." 

Her hand slips out of yours and into his, the lovely way his fingers fold between hers, the physical comfort leaking from his touch as it fills every crevice of her self-doubt. 

She's glowing. Not solely because of Jimin. But because she's finally starting to be a main character of her own story. You can see it in the way her smile stretches across her face. There's something different about this one, something much more real. 

You're smiling too, on the inside. But for some reason, you can't bring your lips to lift at all. All you can do is stare at their hands and feel your chest cave in on itself. 

The rest of the world blurs into a hazy background, a lonely melody hums in the distance. The only thing in focus…him. Him and his precious, strawberry cheeks. 

You should have expected this. After Your Name's comments left your thoughts in tune with your feelings for him, a slow-mo moment was inevitable. Still, it manages to catch you off guard because…he's not looking at you. 

He's looking at her. 

Unblinking, gentle eyes scan from head to toe in awe of what they see. His lips part when he talks like a magician using a spell to keep you mesmerized. The sound of your heart thuds in your ears, only getting louder and faster the longer you see him. But no matter how loud your heartbeat is, he doesn't hear it. Doesn't even acknowledge you while he's got her in his sights. 

"You look cute in blue." Jungkook is the one who breaks the slo-mo by offering you his arm, unashamed to have you on it now that he's done belly laughing at the initial shock of seeing you dressed so casually for his party. "Shall we?" 

The costume change worked in a way you didn't intend. It seems Jungkook didn't notice Your Name at all after he saw you. Even worse, Your Name couldn't care less about Jungkook right now either. 

Things keep getting more and more complicated. As you walk with Jungkook behind the other couple, you can examine Your Name when she looks at him, when she talks to him, when she watches him. And it's very clear. 

Not only does Jungkook not have a crush on Your Name, but now Your Name's attention has been swept away seemingly for good too. 

And you realize…Jimin is glowing like a main character. But when you look at Jungkook, his aura is as quiet as yours. 

Shit. This is not good.

::

perm taglist: @staerryminimini @unicornbabylover @kookieswan @sugarflywme @dvalitaes @kookiecrumb @jeonsjiddies @myooniverse @miscelunaaa @jinsquishes @azreeeeee @armys-dna @thesugatoyourtae @jmforevs @kimprosperi @jjkeverlast @joontied @pamzn @ssaboala @hobipost @jimilter @sleepilysworld @rjsmochii @familiarlikemymirror3 @gimmethatagustd @alluringfairies @minijagiya @roseyykris @jwnghyuns @kaitaesupremacy @squawkadoodledoo @jimin2014 @jminthinker @femmesstuff @valhallawhispers @bora-kat @bloodline1632 @lookhere-2seok @hoseokteardrop @minniesvenus @seokjinkismet @chimchimmarie @mywhispered-thoughts @pasttelrose @screamertannie @soeur-de-ame @dunixxd @taolucha

Part 2 coming soon!

The Promised Iris (Part 1/2)

Pair: Jimin x Reader

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

Word Count: 20k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey Dad?”

“Yes, (Y/N)?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N), do you remember what I said?”

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

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

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a beauty

ghostin him

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

‘What did you do?’

‘I ruined everything. I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost.’

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader, Taehyung/reader

Word Count: 26k

Genre: hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending, whew this one is gonna hurt y’all, bakery!AU, one sided pining, unrequited feelings, some more angst, Jungkook just really loves his Noona, Namjoon is a mess, but so is MC,

Warning: this fic deals with major character death, mourning and suicidal thoughts, please read with caution!

Note: whew, I’m not gonna lie guys this is a pretty heavy fic! I poured a lot of sad feelings into this as just a way to vent out my sadness! I’d also like to mention I am fine lmao! I often get bouts of sadness and all of it went into this so I hope you enjoy! Last but not least a big big big thank you to @tiny-onecx​​ for beta reading this when it was a giant mess and helping me turn it into the bittersweet story it is today! <3

“Baby, come on, wake up,” His deep, dulcet voice quietly called out, a whine escaping you as you flopped onto your stomach, your face buried. Large hands grabbing your waist as his fingertips dragged against the open skin, “C’mon, you missed your alarm clock.” You felt his nose rub against your neck, hair tickling your skin and his body was so warm. 

Rolling over you groaned as you glanced at the man who laid beside you, Taehyung’s smile lit up like the sun as he let his fingers gently brush over the skin of your face, “Morning.” 

Adoration filled your whole chest, butterflies swarming in your stomach with giddy happiness you couldn’t ever adequately describe as a shy smile tugged on your lips, “Morning.” His fingers dragging down to your lips, thumbing the soft subtle lower lip. His forehead pressing against yours as he smiled once more, “Come on baby, let’s get up.” 

“Get up.” 

“Y/n, you’re gonna be late for work, what the hell!?” 

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