When The Camellia Blooms | pjm

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.”

Keep reading

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.

word count: 7.2 k

“you would die for her, for him.”

“You’re dying.”

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.”

Keep reading

318 notes View Post

tannieschim

4 years ago

Lin-Manuel Miranda And His Star In The Hollywood Walk Of Fame!!

Lin-Manuel Miranda and his star in the Hollywood Walk of Fame!!

69 notes View Post

tannieschim

4 years ago

Break the stigma

69K notes View Post

tannieschim

2 years ago

IV. Something Has to Change

(banner by @/itaeewon)

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

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

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

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

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

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

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

Your friendship with Taehyung starts to show its cracks.

Section Warnings: language

WC: 7.5k

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

Saturday October 20th

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We.

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

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

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

“Sounds good. See you around eight?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” you say, eyes still closed.

He gives a chuckle. “Everything okay?”

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

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

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

Get a grip, you scold yourself silently.

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

“But, look -.”

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

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

A second later, your phone buzzes in your hand.

[9:37 PM] Namjoon: 🤯

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

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

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

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

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

Monday October 22nd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

“Try,” you say dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re alone,” Namjoon counters.

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An “lol”? Oh, goodness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sky opens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel a little drunk from it.

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

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

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

You’re thinking too much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You still kind of wish he’d come out.

Tuesday October 23rd

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” he implores. “Look at me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not charming?” he teases.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You burned dinner tonight,” you point out.

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

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

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

You ache, again, to have someone to tell.

Wednesday October 24th

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kris scowls at you. “You will not.”

“I will,” you retort.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re afraid to know the answers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<- Prev || Next ->

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

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

293 notes View Post

tannieschim

2 years ago

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!

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tannieschim

4 years ago

Imagine Finding out Edwards Secret and Having a Normal Human Response

“Say it”

“Vampire,” (Y/N) whispers and slowly starts to turn and runs away

“You know I can outrun you” Edward yells from his unchanged spot in the clouded forest

“YEAH BUT A BITCH CAN TRY”

MASTERLIST

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tannieschim

4 years ago

hi!! i was wondering if you have fic recommendations where reader and bts (any member) are enemies that always banter but then one of them goes tOO FAR and hurts the other's feelings. then whoever gets hurt starts to ignore them and the other getS all hurt and realizes they have feelings... it's oddly specific but i live for these fics 😭 thank you!! 🥺

Anonymous said to hellreads: hiii can you please recommend me some tokyo ghoul jungkook au????🥺💗

Anonymous said to hellreads: Hello!! Do you know any angst ffs where a bts member breaks up with y/n for another girl? I’ve been wanting to read something angsty for a while but can’t find any... please help. Any member is fine.

Ask #1: I don’t think I’ve read anything like that, so I can’t recommend any story for you, sorry.

Ask #2: I’ve seen a few around here but since I haven’t read them I don’t have anything for you, sorry.

Ask #3: My memory is shitty rn and I’m trying to recall whether or not I’ve read anything where a member breaks up with y/n but I really can’t remember any, the closest fic that comes to mind tho is My Cheating Amnesic Fiance by wrienne on ao3 but JK and Reader aren’t really lovers from the start, it was an arranged marriage au and JK decided to get a gf and things got complicated.

anyways, if any of you reading this have recommendations for our dear anons please send them over, let’s help each other find good reads! | 🍒

+ recs under the cut.

U P D A T E

Ask #1:

Ask #2:

Ask #3: A lot of these recommendations have themes of cheating or is a cheating fic through and through. (I’m still thinking of my own reads and most of them are reader leaving member or arranged marriages where member is in love with someone else)

❥ Come Home to Me Darling by @roses-ruby ➴ Married/Cheating!AU | Jimin x Reader | Two-Shot ➴ Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

❥ Sandcastles by @solastia ➴ Open Relationship!AU | Namjoon x Reader | Series ➴ //

❥ Can’t Keep Lying by @1rosex ➴ Seokjin x Reader | Series ➴ Jin’s been distant lately. Maybe it’s the work flow, maybe it’s something you said. Or maybe, maybe it’s just the girl at work.

❥ Cheater by @personasintro ➴ Cheating!AU | Taehyung x Reader | Oneshot ➴ Ten proofs you got to find out the truth but you were too blind in love to see

❥ Insecurity by @jiminelli ➴ Lovers!AU | Jungkook x Reader | Series ➴ Scenario: I wanted a jk scenario where he is on we got married or something similar to the show where his ideal girl is paired with him so his gf who’s not necessarily his type Start to wonder if he will lose feelings for her so she and him end up getting in a fight that pretty bad );

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