#when you sell your soul to the devil for concert tickets and he throws in a few bonuses 😍 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chaoticneutralwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Catalyst

“There’s an old saying that says every demon was once an angel.

So tell me, is it possible for a demon to become one again?”

guardian demon! Jimin x reader

word count: 14.6k

genre: slow-burn, angst, fluff, romance, comedy, slice of life

Related works: see masterlist under Guardian Demon! Jimin

A/N: Shoutout to @milady-mira for this moodboard! Thank you all for the kind messages throughout the month as I worked on this T-T Unknowingly I had sucked myself into doing another chonky chapter but enough on that, let’s roll!

It’s been a good three days since Jimin sprang those tickets on you and you’re still riding on cloud nine. You wake up every day still thinking it was all a dream which makes you check your phone almost religiously, pulling up the app to see that yes, the two GA tickets to BTS’ Love Yourself Tour were sitting in your inbox. It’s gotten you feeling so good that you didn’t mind going to work at all for once. Today is no different, you started your day by spending a good ten minutes in bed after waking up just staring at your phone, smiling so widely that your cheeks ache. After drinking in the sight of the tickets for the nth time, you sigh contently, placing your phone on your chest to stare aimlessly at the ceiling in reflection.

“You’re not coming?” You can’t help pouting, head leaning heavily against Jimin’s chest as he carries you bridal style back to yours and Jaehee’s house. After much crying, you’ve protested against apparating back home in fear that you might actually throw up. It was a tough argument to make but when you threaten Jimin that if he risks it and you end up puking your guts out even when you had warned him, he’ll be responsible for cleaning it. So that got you both to come to a consensus of apparating as far as to get off the building and walking the rest of the way.

“Of course not cherub, would it make sense for someone who looks like the mirror image of your idol to be at their show? It’ll cause a riot.”

“Oh right… Good point.” You mumble, all tuckered out and practically half asleep at this point. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing already.” Jimin reprimands, adjusting his hold on you as he continues to walk. The rest of the way was filled with silence, with you more or less trying to fight off falling asleep right in Jimin’s arms. It’s proven difficult though, in your post-drunk state you’re more susceptible to the soft sounds of his heartbeat lulling you to a drowse. On top of that, the gentle rocking you feel from his strides does nothing to help, only making you feel more and more like a baby being put to sleep. So it’s no wonder that you lose track of all sense of time because the next thing you know, you’re entering your home and then you’re in your bedroom, being placed down into the comforts of your bed.

It takes everything in you to peel your eyes back open for just a second and the sight that greets you makes a lazy smile tug at your lips.

“What’s with that smile?” Jimin asks. You hear the beginnings of a chuckle slip through his words so you know he doesn’t mean anything snarky by asking. You blink but it feels like you’re keeping your eyes closed for way longer than necessary each time you do to consider it blinking.

“Thank you…”

“You’ve said that about eleven times tonight too.”

“Yeah…but I’m really thankful…for you doing this…” You say, words slurring into a mumble as you begin to finally give into sleep. The chuckle finally comes out softly as he takes a seat on the space by your head.

“Again, don’t mention it darling.”

You feel fingers comb through your hair and you instantly melt at the touch, eyes slipping close and unconsciously leaning further into it, a content hum escaping past your lips. His ministration nearly makes you miss his next few words.

“You should call your friends, do something for your birthday this weekend. You can figure out who you can take to the concert then.”

You probably should’ve told Jimin that stroking your hair was a sure way to make you knock out in less than five seconds (drunk or not) because the last thing you remembered before falling into a dreamless slumber was mustering up another hum in response and the feeling of soft, dexterous fingers against your scalp.

You had woken up embarrassed as heck and with a pounding headache but overall, overwhelmed with giddiness and gratitude for the demon that you had wanted to repay him somehow.

And see, there’s your problem right off the bat; how do you repay a demon besides forfeiting your soul to them? You suppose you could….Jimin doesn’t technically own your soul — you and him were just connected via your soul contract. You snort to yourself, the idea making you realize you’d make the statement of ‘selling your soul to the devil for some BTS tickets’ come true (he’s not the devil per se, but semantics). Still, you’re not sure if you want to jump that gun just yet since it’s a pretty big fucking life changing decision to say the least. But then your mind wanders; if Jimin were to ask however, would you agree?

A small part of you whispers yes.

But then that other half of you is telling you; you’re fucking nuts (you could only guess it’s the human instincts of self-preservation).

You let out a loud sigh, conflicted. Seeing no use in just laying around thinking about it until your hair turns grey though, you decide to get up finally, even if you did have the day off to lounge around. As you go through your routine, you continue to brainstorm on what you can possibly do for Jimin but, to no surprise, you come up with very few, meagre half-ideas that don’t seem right. As you’re finishing and heading to the kitchen to fix yourself a light breakfast, you realized something —

You haven’t really seen JImin at all for the past three days.

Your hand pauses on scraping the cream cheese on your bagel, head tilting to yourself. Now that you think about it, this is probably the second longest time he’s been gone. You never had the need to question it (probably some demon-related business) but that just means it’ll be even harder to do something nice for him. Maybe you should shoot him a text…? You grab your phone and pull up your message thread with him, tapping the text box until you’re confronted with the blinking text cursor. How should you go about this….?

“Hey…. What are you up to?”

You backspace on that; it doesn’t sound or look right to you. You try for a different approach.

“Yoooo….. Where’d ya go? Lol”

Wow, you’ve never backspaced fast enough. You let out a long sigh, slumping shoulders and tilting your head this way and that out of frustration. Why are you thinking so hard on this for? It’s just a check-up text, like asking your….friend if they wanna hang out after a long time. Ugh! Whatever! You puff up like a cat, bracing yourself unnecessarily as you type rapidly the first thing that comes to mind.

“Hey, haven’t heard from you for three days so just wondering where’d you go?”

Then you hit send before you can second guess yourself, tossing your phone onto the counter as if it has the plague. You turn away, not wanting to get sucked into that black hole of waiting around for a text back. So you settle on munching away on your bagel and finishing your cup of tea. You shuffle around the kitchen, cleaning and putting away dishes, all the while trying your darnest to avoid peeping over your shoulder to stare longingly at your phone like some lovestruck teenager waiting for her crush to text back. But after putting away the dishes and cleaning the countertop, you still have yet to receive a reply back from the demon in question.

Another sigh escapes you before you can stop it. You gotta find something else to do so that it’ll take your mind off of it — maybe watch some Netflix? You grab your phone, moving over to the couch to turn on the TV. Scrolling through the Netflix account, you blindly pick a long-running sitcom you had decided to binge one day and then stopped because you completely forgot about it. As it plays, you find yourself only half paying attention to the episode as periodically, you swipe your phone to scroll through your Twitter (and a small part of you begrudgingly admits hoping you’d see Jimin’s reply). As expected, your timeline is filled with BTS related things, whether it be about the first North American concert happening in three days or just compilation videos of members doing XYZ.

You stop on a particular one of Jimin and as the clip plays, a smile immediately stretches across your lips. Watching Jimin acting silly and laughing with his whole body is not something you haven’t seen before, but it never fails to make you laugh every time. You would bet that no one could resist either, even if they might not know who Jimin is because who can help it when he has a smile that turns his cheeks round and soft like mochi while making his eyes crease to the point where he can’t see anymore. Besides that, he always had an aura about him that glows with such warmth that anyone could clearly see how kind, sincere, and hardworking he is. And when he’s on stage — the thought alone makes you shake your head in disbelief because it’s like he becomes a different person. He’s no longer just a talented boy next door, he’s someone who was born to perform with an overflowing amount of charisma and stage presence.

A true contradiction if you’ve ever seen one, Park Jimin has somehow managed to embody both youthful, innocent smiles and sultry, seductive gazes. You chuff a laugh to yourself — the more you think about it, you suppose it’s a rather good fit that your guardian demon looks like Jimin, and not just because he’s someone you associate affection with. You pause in thought, realizing something. From the start, you always had a clear distinction between your guardian demon and BTS’ Jimin because in spite of being mirrors of each other, they’re completely different, like the difference between the evil and good twin. But as time went on, you discover that they…. are actually quite similar, more than you had initially thought.

It’s….strange.

You absentmindedly scroll through your timeline again, so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice you’ve landed on an audio edit —

Of Jimin body rolling and doing all other manners of EXTREMELY RUDE THINGS TO VERY SULTRY MUSIC.

Your phone nearly goes flying out of your hand at how fast you chuck it away, cheeks warm and eyes wide. On second thought, you think it’s better that they’re a little bit more different from each other; having one Jimin who knows how to control his body like that is already one too many.

You shake your head as if to physically rid you of the thoughts because if it stays there any longer, you feel like you won’t be able to look your guardian in the eye for a very, very long time.

So you resolve to finally pay attention to the episode playing out in front of you until Jaehee arrives home. Your evening passes by in a flash and yet still, Jimin hasn’t texted you back. Dejectedly, your eyes cast away from the phone beside you for the umpteenth time that day, hand mindlessly going back to shovelling your fried rice around with your spoon.

“Hey, what’s up? You seem really distracted….” Jaehee comments across from you, concern furrowing her eyebrows.

“Ah… no it’s nothing…” You try to brush off, shooting a small smile but Jaehee doesn’t buy it, even her glasses (a rare sight for even you) doesn’t hide the way her deep brown eyes look at you with such dubiousness that it makes you doubt yourself.

“You keep staring at your phone like a kicked puppy. Is it about the BTS concert? It’s happening pretty soon right?”

You can’t keep the wry smile off your face at the mention of the concert. It gives you away on your sudden changed circumstances regarding it and Jaehee easily picks up on that along with your hesitancy to agree with her assumptions of what’s bothering you.

“Well….About that…” You start off, not knowing how to break this as lightly as possible. “I…actually have plans on going to their next stop…?”

The reaction is immediate, Jaehee’s hand stills and her eyes shoot wide open as she blurts out in rapid succession, “What?! Really?! So you got tickets?! I thought you said you weren’t?!”

It makes your lips quirk up more, her enthusiasm overwhelming you to where you had to abandon your dinner altogether to tackle all of her questions. “Yeah, I thought I wasn’t too. But then…Well…” You take the time to unlock your phone to pull up the solid proof to your claims, sliding it closer for Jaehee to see. She picks it up and gasps, a loud, drawn out noise with a dramatic flair at the end, eyes practically bulging from you to the phone screen and back.

“Oh my God, shut up!” Her rising excitement is contagious and so you can’t help but to return it with a wide grin. “You’re really doing it! Is it for the upcoming concert this week? Or the one after that?”

“The one after that.”

“You’re going with one of your friends then yeah?”

“Uh…Yeah…” Your hand comes up to rub your neck, already feeling your cheeks heating up. “I’m going with a friend of mine. Ji— Julien! Julien — he’s actually the one who got me the tickets.”

Even with the partial name slip, Jaehee drives forward, this new development clearly taking hold of her if her gaping mouth and wide sparkling eyes is anything to go by. “Oh my GOD! Are you for real!? Julien got you these tickets?”

When you nod, abashed, she only squeals delightedly before gushing, “Y/N! I think you found yourself a keeper!”

“Huh?” The sound escapes you before you can help yourself along with the rising heat of your cheeks. Jaehee passes the phone back to you, a knowing smile taking form on her lips.

“Julien seems like he’s really into you and totally gets you. I mean, to me, this is like the ultimate profession of love in your language — getting you tickets to see your favourite band.”

You feel your blush intensify at such a profound statement, wondering whether or not you should even mention that he’s paying for all the travel expenses as well and that on top of the tickets, that’s what you’re troubled over. So you settle on going with a half-truth; you think Jaehee might end up coercing you to marry Jimin right at this moment if you told her everything.

“Well, yeah I think it’s great and all but I feel really bad. I wanna do something nice in return for him.” You sigh, “I just don’t know what.”

“Ah…So that’s what’s bothering you.” Jaehee nods, leaning back in her chair with a pensive look, arms crossed. “You could maybe….treat him to dinner?”

Do demons even eat anything? You think to yourself. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jimin consume anything for sustenance other than alcohol but even then, you think it’s just for the heck of it instead of a need. You shake your head — if it were anyone else, the suggestion would’ve been perfect.

“I don’t know what he likes…? He has…” You fumble for the right words to cover up your….special circumstances. “Dietary restrictions.”

“Ah…”

With that, both you and Jaehee fall back into a contemplative silence. Every once in a while, Jaehee would pipe up with another suggestion but they all end with a shake of your head.

“Ah well, I’m sure something will come up. Like maybe after your trip….?” Jaehee wriggles her eyebrows suggestively and you nearly choke on your last spoonful of fried rice. She barks a laugh at that, assuring you that it was just a joke (“…unless?”, she had tagged on which earned her an indignant smack from you and a cackle from her). You clean up and pack away leftovers before you eventually bid each other goodnight, heading off to wash up and settle for the night.

You were halfway through an episode of a drama that caught your interest when your phone lights up, the chiming notification muffled against your bedsheets. Your eyes instantly whip to it and when you catch sight of the name, you pause everything you’re doing, swiping to pull up the text thread.

“Miss me already? You’re so sweet cherub

(You roll your eyes)

But since you asked, I’ve just been doing errands here and there, mainly for your trip. Nothing to worry about.”

You huff quietly, though an endeared smile creeps on your lips at the thought all the same. However, the guilt indefinitely creeps back to you as you find yourself worrying your bottom lip at the mention of his generous act. You really want to do something nice for him, show him just how grateful you are that he’s going out of his way to do this for you (you honestly think this might even be out of his contract agreement as a temp guardian). At this point, you think you’ll have to settle for something like a bottle of alcohol — it’s the only sure thing you know that he’ll enjoy. Or maybe…

You shake your head; you need to give more thought on that.

“I’m just making sure you didn’t accidentally discorporate or something okay?

Who else is gonna pay for my flight and hotel XP

But I’ll make it up to you when I get to the duty free at the airport. I know you like alcohol but I’m still a broke college student so just accept my token of gratitude that way.”

You type, sending it off before you can overthink it. God you hate this — since when did texting Jimin become such a nail biting thing? You blow out a stream of air, flopping back onto your pillows in frustration.

Get it together, you tell yourself, patting your cheek only to come away scowling from how to warm it feels. A chime saves you from wallowing in your self-consciousness any further, bringing up your phone to check his response.

“Don’t worry about it, just go and have fun.”

Your heart involuntarily flips and you have to take a moment, putting your phone down for a bit — he’s not making this any easier. You roll around in your bed for a couple more minutes, reading and re-reading his message as the metaphorical butterflies in your stomach run wild. Once you’ve managed to reel in the rampant onslaught of feelings, shaking out your trembling fingers, it makes you realize something else; something rather important. The corners of your mouth tug downwards and after hesitating, you decide to shoot your shot.

“So… Are you not coming at all?”

When he doesn’t reply back immediately, regret instantly makes you backtrack, hastily typing an explanation but his response bubble pops up, stopping you.

“Never would’ve pinned you as a clingy type but I don’t mind ;)”

You have to smother your face in your pillow to muffle the loud groan you let out. When you get it out of your system, you race to finish what you were typing and hit send.

“I’m asking because we’re technically bound to each other by a blood contract and you never disclosed the finer details of it i.e. if large distance effects it or not.

So I need to know if it’ll be a problem because if so then you have to come too even if it means not being near the arena.”

“Haha, relax cherub. I get what you mean.

And you’re not wrong, distance does effect the bond of the contract. The farther away we are from each other, the less of a read on you I get. If anything were to happen to you, I won’t be able to help.”

You figured that much. It wouldn’t make sense in having a contract at all if important factors such as distance between the two parties didn’t have any effect. That just means either one of you could run away from the other and that would leave you both vulnerable; you in harms way and him risking the chance of losing a bail for his mischief with heaven. Besides that, a small part of you admits that you’d feel a little more comfortable traveling if you knew Jimin was going to be with you since this would be your first time flying with just another friend, even if it’s not that far out — it’s still a new place neither you nor your friend are familiar with.

As if reading your mind, another text pops up from him.

“I’ll be close by, I promise.”

A smile breaks out onto your lips, the butterflies erupting again and though they’re restless inside you from his words, you’re put at ease.

“I trust you…”

“…It’s late, you should go to sleep.”

“Okay… Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams cherub.”

Dark chocolate eyes remain fixated on the screen for a moment longer, a number of emotions swirling within his chest threatening to become a hurricane, all from three simple words.

I trust you.

He thinks you a fool — there’s never, in the history of mankind’s existence, been a human who had openly said that they trusted a demon.

It never leads to good things.

But he thinks himself a fool too because those words mean more to him than he could ever imagined. Shit, he’s in deep, the acceptance of it pulls out a dry laugh from Jimin. He drops the phone away from his face, arm flopping to one side as his view shifts to that of the starless night sky above him. He’s had a lot to think on these past days ever since your birthday and though it wasn’t exactly a lie when he told you he was running errands, most of that time was spent trying to sort out his feelings.

The fact of reality is Jimin doesn’t have a lot of time left as your temporary guardian. By the looks of it, he’s pretty much done a good portion of what heaven had demanded of him and once he gets the official decree, the contract between you and him will be broken and he would have no business to linger around you less it was to tempt you into forfeiting your soul to hell — something he’d rather not do.

Yet in spite of it all, the thought of leaving you is something he couldn’t imagine doing, would not accept at this point. But as long as he is around, Jimin will only become a burden on your life, a toxic weight chaining you down in a pit of misery for he is a demon; a creature that causes misfortune on others and thrives off of it and as such, you’ll never be blessed with the good karma you receive from doing good deeds because he is not capable of bringing it. Any and all good things that happen to you will be short-lived in exchange for a hefty price because that is the demon code — nothing is without a cost, a sacrifice. And thus, he cannot remain with you as a temporary guardian nor demon.

Unless….

In his other hand, he grasps at the bottle of whiskey and drags it over this lips, the liquor leaving a burning trail down his throat in the big gulps he takes. It distracts him from his troubled thoughts but as per usual, the effects is much too short to offer any real relief. He doesn’t have long to sulk about it though because he senses another presence coming towards him.

“I have to say, this is uncharacteristic of you to have willingly called for me brother.” Jungkook steps close enough so that he towers over Jimin, forcing him to stare up at that annoyingly handsome, twenty-something year old idol’s face that he’s so fond of, doe-eyes gleaming mischievously with dark wavy locks framing either side of his face. “I’m a little suspicious.”

Jimin snorts, a hand wrenching free from one of his belongings to reach up and pinch the younger’s ankle. Jungkook skips out of the way with a throaty giggle before rounding back to the elder’s side. He makes himself comfortable, sitting down next to Jimin in his oversized t-shirt and baggy sweatpants that makes Jimin think what a waste of a body to be dressed like that. They sit in silence for a while, letting the city night life below become their white noise as Jimin watches the inky abyss above him with unseeing eyes while Jungkook carefully observes him.

He’s not unfamiliar with Jimin’s brooding and aloof nature, has seen it enough times over their years of being friends to the point where he’s able to read him quite easily. But now, as he gazes upon this perfect mask, there is no signs of indifference marring the almost angelic features, not even a hint of annoyance. Instead, the emotion he sees is melancholy — something that he’s never seen before but it is there, clear as day. The sight of it stirs an uneasy feeling in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach but he refrains from asking directly, choosing to hold onto the belief that perhaps it’s not anything serious. For now, he’ll do what he does best; prod for information.

“You seem awfully moodier than usual…. Has poppet’s gloominess finally affected you too?”

He sees two eyes slide over to focus on him, their colour a subdued ruby that belies the warning beneath them. But they seep away just as quickly as Jimin doesn’t move to enact said threat, not even verbally and his eyes drift back to staring listlessly above him. It has Jungkook quirking his eyebrows and before he can let his curiousity overtake him, Jimin’s voice cuts through the still night air.

“If you must know, she’s no longer not going to the concert.” He states plainly, “I’ve made sure of that.”

It takes a while for the words to register in Jungkook’s head but when he does process them, he’s gobsmacked.

“You didn’t…!”

When he’s met with no response, it only further confirms that indeed Jimin had gifted you tickets to your most sought after concert. Jungkook’s mouth falls open but he could produce no coherent words from the shock. It’s only after a minute of shuffling around, not knowing what to do with himself that the younger demon finally throws his head back with a loud bark of laughter.

“I cannot believe this!” He chokes out between cackles, “You actually bought tickets for her even after you claiming you’re not a ‘miracle worker’! Brother, you hypocrite!” Jungkook’s gives a hardy smack onto Jimin’s shoulder and ignores the glare sent his way from it. Once he calms down, wiping at the corners of his eyes, Jungkook continues teasing.

“So did she promise her soul to you in five years time or something? Surely you would’ve taken advantage of such a golden opportunity.”

Again, he’s met with silence from his companion only this time when it drags on, the air shifts and the unnerving feeling grows within Jungkook, the playful smile slipping from his lips. His thoughts begin to race with a multitude of questions, all coming to a conclusion he doesn’t think he’s ready to face yet. He opens his mouth in an attempt to carry on the light nature of the conversation but unfortunately for him, Jimin begs to differ, as if finally growing tired of humouring Jungkook.

“Enough with the small talk; like you said, there’s a reason why I’ve called you here.” Jimin says, his tone low with a seriousness that makes Jungkook think he’s about to deliver some grave news. “I have something to ask of you.”

From the way he says it, Jungkook feels like it’ll be a loaded question and it puts an immediate stop to any possible attempts of deflecting. Despite the darkness surrounding them, Jungkook could clearly see the swirling emotions that reflect in Jimin’s eyes, even if his face, for the most part, shows no signs of that turmoil. He wouldn’t have known just how conflicted his companion really was otherwise and it makes a small part of him not wish to know what the elder wanted to ask. But curiosity, the double-edged sword, has him gripped in its tight hold so he swallows, bracing himself with a shield of feigned disinterest.

“What is it, oh dear brother of mine?”

Jimin lets out a heavy breath, as if he too was bracing himself for something but he’s had time to mull it over thoroughly, his decision made and it’s now or never. So he pulls himself together, schooling his expression and he utters the words he knows will surely become a catalyst in disrupting the very order of heaven and hell itself.

“…Is it possible for a demon to become an angel again?”

His quiet words seem to ring even louder in the night that it’s impossible to be misheard by anyone. But that’s exactly what Jungkook wants to do, tries so desperately to convince himself to do, to the point where people will call him delusional. The question is so ridiculous that the younger demon is stupefied for what seems like an eternity before a loud laugh of disbelief escapes him in one choked exhale, the sound forced and unnatural.

“W-What? That’s— Don’t be ridiculous brother! You and I both know that —“

“Ezazel.”

All laughter ceases immediately at the name he had not heard in so long. It leaves him short of breath, shuddering as he inhales sharply like he’s been doused by cold water. Jaw clenching, Jungkook swallows as his eyes focus onto Jimin, the irises beginning to simmer a deep golden topaz behind the dark chocolate hues as he fights the tremors that threaten to overtake his body. Jungkook shoots up from his seat.

“You…” He strains, raising a threatening finger to Jimin, voice tight with effort to keep it steady. “I don’t know what games you’re playing at but—“

“No games I’m afraid,” Jimin says with a quiet, breathy laugh, an eerie calmness about him that has the younger demon slowly becoming more enraged. “Demons were once angels before they fell from grace, it doesn’t happen often but the fact of it is true. So surely, if that is the case, the opposite can be done as well.” Gaze flitting to Jungkook, Jimin adds, “Am I wrong?”

“I—“ The younger struggles to formulate words, teeth gritting and eyes glaring down at him, “What does it even matter? It’s impossible either way!”

“So there is a way?”

Jungkook freezes, mind stuttering at how he had accidentally got the tables on him turned by Jimin, but he supposes it’s only natural; behind that angelic face lies a cunning demon after all and unfortunately for him, one that always seems have a way with his words. Still, that won’t stop Jungkook from clamming up about what he knows or doesn’t on this matter.

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter whether I do or not hypothetically because I won’t tell you regardless!” Jungkook is huffing as he gets all of that out in one seething breath, his young face contorting into what Jimin worries will become a permanent stony scowl. It makes the corner of his lips twitch at how cute he looks but he suppresses it, not wanting to perhaps anger Jungkook more — he needs answers and he knows Jungkook is his best, if not, only chance at getting them. So Jimin remains steadfast, determined to getting Jungkook to spill.

“I don’t have much time left here…”

“Exactly, so why do you even want to know something like this? What’s the point?”

The question triggers an unintentional chortle from Jimin, gaze returning back to the desolate night sky briefly, the barest of smiles pulling at plush lips from the irony of it all and Jungkook could only stare, perplexed.

“I…” Jimin starts, trying to search for the right words. “Let’s just say I’ve made up my mind on something…for someone …”

The younger demon’s mouth falls open, moving the slightest to mouth the last phrase Jimin had said to himself as his eyebrows furrow in pensive confusion. His head cocks to one side, not understanding before all at once, it clicks together. Eyes shooting wide open, Jungkook whips his gaze to Jimin once again, a mess of emotion reflecting in them — shock mixed with disbelief mixed with outrage and disappointment that eventually all melt into a burnt, golden ember that seems to consume his whole sclera.

“You can’t be fucking serious….”

“Ez—“

Jimin’s attempt at quelling the younger’s temper fails as he’s quickly cut off by Jungkook as he starts to pace around in his spot, the anger rolling off of his broad shoulders in waves. “Look, it’s all in good fun when I said you’ve gone soft for her. Hell I think she’s just okay too but to risk your life for her?! Do you even hear how crazy that sounds?!” He scoffs, lips twisting into a sneer. “You know for all the decades of experience you claim to have, you sure aren’t really smart after all huh?”

The condescending comment makes Jimin narrow his gaze as he stands to step up to the younger, shoulders squared and eyes flaring to life to match the intensity of Jungkook’s.

“You don’t know what it’s like to live all those years, drifting from one decade to another until they all blur together, being stuck dealing with the same rotten piece of shit humans that can’t get sent to hell fast enough and when you think you’ve seen them all, they just keep on crawling out of the woodwork like fucking cockroaches.” A sort of pitying look softens his features for a split second as he says, “You’re still too young to understand.”

Whereas Jungkook’s voice had risen in volume with his growing rage, Jimin’s remains in a low, even tone; a cold, quiet anger simmering under his calm facade like a coiled snake ready to strike at any moment. Jungkook’s jaw ticks in defiance, not backing down but growing more agitated because he realizes…. He doesn’t recognize the person in front of him anymore. The revelation saddens him but most of all, it scares him.

“The only thing I don’t understand is how you think she’s any different; in the end, humans are all fickle creatures and you’re only fooling yourself to think otherwise.” The younger demon grits, glaring daggers down at the other demon. With one final shake of his head, he sets his hardened gaze on his dear friend and mentor, already turning away. He needs to leave, needs to get away from having to divulge his secrets or sort his feelings out, maybe both. Either way, it’s for Jimin’s own good. “I won’t let you do something as stupid as throwing away your life for one seemingly decent human girl.”

“You—!” Jimin begins, making a grab to spin Jungkook back around by the shoulder but all he grasps are wisps of black smoke as the younger apparates away.

Slipped right through his fingers, quite literally. Jimin ruefully scoffs, fist clenching as he exhales deeply, trying to rid of the tension that had stiffened his body. It’s no use though, and he’s again left alone to stew on his own except this time in a much fouler mood. His eyes fall to his forgotten bottle of whiskey, not much of the dark liquor left inside. Regardless, he picks it up and drains it in one go, a sad attempt at drinking away his problems.

When he swallows the last bit of the bitter alcohol with not even a hint of that numbing relief, he smashes the bottle against the ground, the crashing of glass breaking against asphalt intermingled with the sharp shout of frustration Jimin lets out. His shoulders heave in a struggle to regain his composure, one hand covering his eyes as if he’s willing away an incessant headache and after a few more deep, slow breaths, he somewhat relaxes; the searing hot anger running through his veins ebbing away into a tempered flame. Tilting his head back, his hand moves to run through his locks, tugging slightly at the roots as he looks out at the darkness above him — still no stars in sight no matter how long he stared.

Funny how a few nights before, he was staring up at the exact same starless sky and felt more at peace with himself than he’d ever been but now it all seems like a premonition, a bad omen of what’s to come. His lips pull back into a spiteful sneer; how apropos. Not like that would stop him, starless skies be damned, because ultimately they’re all the same to him anyways. It’s ruefully does he admit that they’ve only started to become something beautiful to look at when he had met you.

It’s with mild amusement and disbelief that you take up Jimin’s advice on ‘hosting’ a belated birthday get together with your friends. At first you were doubtful, with what few of the close friends you do have, the chances of them being able to come out were far more slimmer than average. But after working up some courage, you go for it anyways, shooting off a tentative text message in the group chat to see if anyone is up to hanging around, get some bubble tea and maybe lunch…? You’re open to ideas.

You weren’t expecting much but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel pleasantly surprised and happy that they were free and were excited to get together after such a long time. So with plans made and set, there’s only one thing left for you to worry about; just how are you gonna bring up the fact that you got two tickets to the concert and that you could only bring one of them? The thought instantly makes you anxious — it’s like you’re forced to pick favourites and you by no means favour a friend over another. But you have no choice, you only have the one ticket to give away.

You’ve managed to worry yourself up until the very day as you get up early the next morning. Should you maybe not bring it up as a group in person? Or would that make things look worse if you approach one person through text? But even then, you can’t guarantee the person you pick would be able to go either, then that just means you have to guess who’s most likely abled. Agh! You’re losing your mind over this and if you let it go any further, it would ruin your mood. So you decide to put it aside for now and see where the day takes you during this little outing. If the mood seems right then you’ll bring it up, if not….

Okay, no more thinking on this, just go with the flow. With one last shake of your head, you concentrate on getting to the designated meeting spot, determined to have a good time in the company of your friends. Luckily it’s easy because as soon as you’re all gathered together, it’s like no time has passed between anyone. You all fall into conversations comfortably, caught up and joked around with one another but of course eventually, the topic ends up on the subject of all your worries.

“Ugh! I’m so sad I can’t go to this concert!” One of your friend, Jess, whines, turning away from her phone screen as she no doubt must’ve caught sight of some fancams that happened for their first stop. “Why’d they have to skip over our city this year? I thought it was such a good turn out!”

Your other friend lets out a heavy sigh, slumping slightly at the mention of such tragedy. “I don’t know man, it sucks though! I was so ready to go! But the money for the travel on top of the ticket is too much for me.”

“Right? After saying they would come back next year too….All men do is lie.”

Your circle of friends laughs and you do too in spite of growing more and more fidgety in your seat, nervously sipping on your drink. You think this is the perfect time to break your silence on the deep secret you’re holding if you weren’t absolutely breaking out into a cold sweat simultaneously. You know you have to act fast though, before you lose the timing so in an effort to keep on it but not give yourself away, you throw in what sounds like to you some painfully awkward two cent.

“What if there was, like…a contest and the prize was a round trip to see the BTS concert….” Your hypothetical instantly catches the attention of your friends and you nearly shrink back out of intimidation, but you swallow the feeling, trying to keep casual about it and hope that your face isn’t as red as it feels. “But there’s only two tickets, ‘cus that’s how it usually is, so you can only take one of your friends, so like, how would you even decide that?”

Each of your friends hum in consideration, falling into a pensive silence before one of them speaks up, “Oh my God, I wouldn’t even know.”

“Right? Last minute trips would definitely not work for me like, as much as I hate to say it, I need money and can’t afford to quit even though I hate my job.” Soohee sighs.

“Pfft, I’d probably quit like….YOLO this is BTS; for my boys.”

“Or call in sick? Like,” Rosa says before she makes her voice sound more nasally and scratchy to portray a sickly tone, coughing in between sentences, ”’Oh sorry, I don’t think I can come in for at least three days, I’ve caught a really serious cold okay bye.’”

That earns a peal of laughter from everyone but your heart is pounding through it as you grin along. “But like, no hard feelings if that ever happens right?” You can’t help putting out there, masking your anxiety for playfulness.

“Yeah no, I mean we’re all friends here right?”

“Well….I might feel just a little bit salty if I didn’t get a ticket.” Mei jokes, scrunching her face but everyone all knows from her exaggeration that she means no real harm if it comes down to it. If anything, it successfully pulls another round of light-hearted chuckles from the group. Overall though, everyone collectively nods in agreement or verbally voices it and it’s enough to put you at ease considerably. The feeling of gratefulness warms you over at the genuineness you’re witnessing, making you think that you were worried over nothing. So when everyone settles down, you take a deep breath and muster up all the courage you have to say the next few but very decisive words.

“Okay because like…..I may or may not need to confess something… And you’re all probably gonna hate me for it.” You begin wryly with a crooked smile. Your friends perk up like meerkats towards your direction, always ready for some good tee. Rosa has one eyebrow quirked, eyes widen comically to pin you with a cartoonishly accusatory stare.

“What? Did you secretly score tickets without telling us?”

You nearly choke on your own spit, inhaling too sharply and you have to fan yourself for a second before you squeak out, “I mean… I-I have a good friend…who’s friends with someone who was part of a…group trip for the next stop of BTS’ tour in North America that dropped out so now he needs two people to take their spots so they asked me if I wanted to go and if I knew anyone else who wanted to go so…yeah! I have tickets to their next stop so do any of you guys wanna come with me?!”

It was a mess; you tripped and stuttered your entire way through, words spilling out faster by the time you finish your tall tale for this miracle. Your face feels like it’s on fire again as you mentally bash your head against a wall because anyone can smell this bullshit from a mile away and you don’t think you even explained that flights and hotel were covered for this trip right? Oh my God how are you going to explain that?!

As you mentally berate yourself, you don’t notice how all of your friends are stunned into a shocked silence, each with their mouths agape in various sizes until Jess sputters, hands flailing about in front of her before she’s gripping the table, leaning over from her seat on the opposite end of where you were.

“Hold on! Wait a minute! Pause! You’re saying you got connections to their next stop?!”

Her outburst causes a chain reaction, snapping all of your remaining friends out of their stupor to shoot rapid fire questions at you.

“Like are we talking free free? Or like they’re trying to sell tickets for cheap cheap?”

“You said group trip right? Like does that mean the spots dropped are free to take but like we gotta give a deposit or something?”

“Are you sure this isn’t some sort of scam? How good friends are you with this person?”

In turn, your mind goes racing to come up with more plausible answers to the loopholes they’re pointing out. You swear if you were starring in the movie ‘Inside Out’, the inside of your mind would be a scene of chaos — alarms blaring and all of your personified emotions running in a panicked frenzy yelling at the top of their lungs. Frantically before you abort mission altogether, you grabbed onto the one thing you can answer with full confidence.

“The person who told me about this and is offering is someone I’ve known for a while — I trust them so I know this isn’t a scam for sure.” You reassure, holding up your hands in a placating manner. “They said the group does these….trips really often and like, everyone has a lot of air miles or something so….a lot of the times some people fly for cheap or even free; something like that? And the deposit was already made by the two who were supposed to go and it’s non-refundable so they said they’d rather find someone just so it doesn’t go to waste. I don’t know, they explained it to me but it’s sort of complicated.”

“Wow, this sounds like a bunch of rich people….” Mei comments, blinking in astonishment. “Must be nice…”

“Then what about a place to stay? Is it like…a hotel or an AirBnB? Is it even covered or is that something that needs to be split and paid?”

“….I think that’s the only thing left to be paid…?” You lie (along with this entire story but you have to add some sort of element of plausibility! It’s more suspicious to have everything come at no charge than for at least one thing to be paid for). “So yeah! Umm…anyone down?” You finish quickly with a slightly nervous laugh, eyes shaking.

You wait with bated breath as you watch your friends consider your proposition albeit still dubiously. You don’t blame them; you would be too but you can’t outright tell them the whole truth because that sounds like an even bigger lie than what you had already just told. Besides, you’re always known for being a truthful and trustworthy person (minus this big ol’ outright lie here but it’s with good reasons), not to mention not that gullible when it comes to these things — you consider yourself to be a pretty big skeptic! So surely….

“Okay but like…just one last question….” Rosa pipes up, sounding awfully serious that it has you a little on edge. Your shoulders unconsciously hunch up as you peer at her, waiting for her to call you out entirely but then, “Is your friend’s friend in the market for a sugar baby? Or like know anyone in their circle who is? ‘Cus…. I can give them my business card.”

That seems to dispel whatever remaining suspicions left as everyone bursts out laughing in solidarity, yourself included. The rest of the conversation regarding the trip transitions smoothly to everyone re-evaluating their schedules to see if they’re able to accompany you (within reason, much to the chagrin of all parties). It ends with people who were most likely to be available to settle a few final things before messaging you to say whether it’s a go or not, no fuss or muss (“because we’re all adults here”, Soohee iterates proudly). Overall, you’re very satisfied with the outcome having went way better than expected, the heavy weight lifting off your shoulders and the rest of the day resumes with more laughs, dinner, and even surprise belated birthday gifts (that got you choked up).

By the time you’re heading home, you’re feeling so happy that you nearly walk right past a certain demon. It’s only when he calls out to you do you startle out of your euphoric reverie.

“It worries me how increasingly prone you’re becoming to being at death’s door.”

“Oh shit! Jesus Jimin!”

“Flattered but point proven.” He chastises. Lowering your hand from your chest, you pout up at him before turning away to continue walking down the street to your home. He falls into steps with you easily, what with his long, lean legs but you’re in a good mood and if you’re being honest…. It’s nice to see him after so long. Giving him a once over, you note that Jimin’s still sporting an ashy brown for hair colour, cut short to where you can see a hint of an undercut with his cartilage silver piercing gleaming even in the low lights of the street lamps. He’s dressed in that casual chic way you’ve grown to know him for — one hand shoved into the pocket of his black jeans with a tear on each knee and a simple light denim button down with a square pocket with the words ’Saint Laurent’ scribbled on in black cursive ink. The sight makes you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless; it wouldn’t be him without it.

“I’m actually surprised to see you here; thought you were busy with….stuff.”

“Hey, you’re still technically my charge so my heads on the chopping block if you get distracted by a BTS billboard while crossing the street when you’re not supposed to.”

You choke a gasp of indignation, giving him a shove even though it does nothing more than make him teeter to one side slightly. It also pulls out a deep musical chuckle from him and you find your heart singing along to the tune. You freeze — Oh God, what was that? Your heart skipped a beat just now and it’s not because you had a good day.

“I take it things went well with today by the looks of that dopey smile.” His voice distracts you before you can get lost in dissecting the foreign feeling. When you turn your wide gaze up at him, he merely gestures to the little gift bag containing a new version of a BTS album you don’t own along with other goodies your friends know you’ll enjoy.

“O-Oh, yeah! It went way better than I expected actually. Everyone came out and we went for bubble tea, chilled and then had dinner. They even surprised me with late birthday presents, which they didn’t have to. Also, three of them said they would let me know if they can schedule time off to come with me; two of them said it was a most likely so that’s good.” When you finish recounting your day’s events, you suddenly feel shy, sounding like a grade schooler who’s telling their parents about their first day of school. But Jimin simply nods, humming here and there to let you know he’s listening. You both eventually reach the steps leading to your door and you dig around in your purse for your keys as he waits.

“That is good. You’ll have someone to go with,” Jimin pauses, teasing smile pulling back his perfectly pink lips, “and I finally won’t have to babysit you as much.”

You glower at him but when all he does is stick his tongue out at you, you roll your eyes with a shake of your head. “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.” And as retaliation, you mumble. “You big tsundere.”

“You know I heard that right?”

“I know, I was counting on that.” You say. As an afterthought, you stick your tongue out at him too and it’s his turn to roll his eyes. You clear your throat roughly to disguise the self-satisfying giggle that escapes your lips, turning back to unlocking your door, “Now are you coming in or not?”

You miss the look of conflict that flits across Jimin’s face as he hesitates on the invitation but ultimately decide against it, schooling his expression back with a carefully placed laid-back smile by the time you turn to look at him. “I’m afraid not; you know how it is.”

You let out a noncommittal hum; you figured and you want to sigh, a bit disappointed at his short visit but you can’t be mad at that. “Right; getting up to no good as per usual?”

“You know it, darling.”

The gruff noise you let out is more or less done to hide your traitorous heart; the term of endearment hitting differently this time around. You cross your arms for good measures, like a physical attempt at keeping your heart in check before it bursts right out of your chest as chew on your bottom lip. “Well, good night then I guess — try not to get discorporated and all that jazz.”

His smiles widens into a full on grin, teeth on display and eyes creasing into crescents. Just when you can’t get blind-sided anymore by him and his unfair beauty, Jimin leans in closer to you, hovering so close that you have to take a half step back and pray he for once, doesn’t see how quickly your face is reddening or how fast your heart is beating. Turning his head slightly, he taps the cheek facing you with a finger, “How about a goodnight kiss for good luck then?”

“Bye you dingus.” You deadpan, ears burning as you clatter through your door and promptly shut it once you step through it, heart pounding a mile a minute.

Jimin watches you go, the Cheshire grin growing into more of a fond smile. He doesn’t think he’ll get tired of seeing you so flustered; face flushed and lips chewing nervously. It’s an image he’ll keep to himself, another memory he’ll cherish of you amongst others because when he finally steps away from your door, it might be for the last time he’ll ever see you.

Ever since Jungkook had met Jimin, he had began to believe that there was a higher being controlling the universe and all that are within it — and he’s not talking about the forces Upstairs™. Some people might call it ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’, an intangible force who assumes no form and takes no sides.

It’s the only way he can explain how he’d end up in this predicament. It’s a whole mess of irony that he thinks even God themselves couldn’t have seen or been capable of doing. He wants to both laugh and cry at the same time….and also strangle Jimin. Jungkook lets out a loud disgruntled groan, dragging his hands through his hair for the second time, dark brown locks mussing up wildly from the gesture. In the solitude of an abandoned rooftop building, he had been sitting by the edge lost in his troubled thoughts on the recent conversation he had with Jimin. He doesn’t know where to begin to unpack all of that.

He should probably start with the most obvious; how stupid the other demon is being and probably the most outrageously dim-witted thing he’s heard since….since his life as a supernatural entity! No sane being of their kind would risk giving up their life for one mortal being, let alone willingly (some may argue guardian angels but you’d be surprised that they’re way more political about it; not just anyone gets that sort of privilege). Jungkook can’t understand it, can’t seem to find words to process it but the more he tries, the more he realizes that it’s not so much about what Jimin wants to do for you, rather it’s what he did to him.

What Jimin plans to do had awakened a long forgotten wound of his that he thought had disappeared, leaving him restless and a bitter taste in his mouth. It dredged up distant memories that felt like they were from another life time ago, or even of someone else’s — his memories, but ones that were best left to be forgotten because they weren’t something he looked back on fondly. It was a time where he felt like a lost puppy; didn’t know who he was or what he was meant to be and so, felt like he didn’t belong anywhere. So how ironic is it that he was able to find himself when he met Jimin, of all things, a demon.

But by no means did they hit it right off the bat when they first crossed paths. No, it was very clear that the bored demon had no intentions of befriending Jungkook at all — in fact, he always had an air of distaste whenever he decided to be a nuisance to Jungkook,, often times appearing when he least expected. And the feeling was mutual, so least to say, neither of them could have predicted that the exact opposite happened.

Over time, Jimin had unknowingly grown fond of Jungkook in a way where he sees parts of himself in the younger while Jungkook had begun to see that Jimin really did have a heart somewhere in his chest after all. Jimin had been the one to give him a choice, opened his eyes to seeing the possibilities, to not be afraid of being himself and because of that, Jimin is someone….he cares about, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

So he has his reasons.

Besides, what’s so special about you anyways? Sure, you let him crash your place from time to time, bake some bombass chocolate chip cookies and he guess you’re pretty funny for a human but other than that, you’re just human; one small blip among the millions — billions — of other fragile souls on this earth that are all destined to perish with time.

Just what does Jimin see in you that's worth protecting?

Well, he supposes sitting around thinking about it wouldn’t give him answers. So with a stretch, Jungkook gets up, peering out at the city horizon as the first warm rays of orange light breaks through the midnight blue of the night sky. He watches for a few moments longer as it becomes brighter and brighter until the sun had chased away any remaining darkness left. It looks to be another clear day, only a few clouds dotting the azure sky but it’s as they say, sometimes a storm can be just around the corner.

When you wake the next day, it’s way before your alarm clock that you set for work but instead of feeling bitter about losing precious minutes of extra sleep, you decide to just lay in bed, using the time to slowly wake at your own pace until you feel like you’re up to the task of getting up finally. You also feel refreshed and in a good mood, oddly enough. Kind of sad if you think too long on it, how this feeling is so foreign to you that you can’t even recall the last time you had felt this way; maybe because they were all too short-lived to begin with anyways. Ah, you forcefully stop yourself from exploring those thoughts any further or else you’ll spiral and start needlessly worrying. You’re living in the now so you should enjoy it and that’s one inspirational quote you’ll actually live by. How couldn’t you when you’re literally going to a BTS concert in less than two weeks.

…

Holy crap you have less than two weeks to prepare.

You bolt upright in bed, suddenly overwhelmed with a pressing matter at hand. Your heart flutters in a strange mixture of excitement and mild panic as you sit there, completely stunned at the fact that this is happening and you still have so much you need to do!

That has you getting up in no time, going through your morning routine faster than you can comprehend with your mind racing with what seems like millions of different thoughts per second. You rush around, trying to do ten things at once; check your phone for any new updates from your friends, make yourself breakfast, finding out where the heck you had left your luggage case, and before you know it, you’re scrambling out the door because you lost track of time for work.

You make it with just barely two minutes to spare but once you start your shift, time seems to reverse its effect on you and the hours begin to tick by slower than watching grass grow. Doesn’t help that you were stuck as a cashier again, the bane of your existence. Though your manager assigns tasks for you to get done around the queue line, you can barely get far enough before running back to your register to cash out any customers that approach. Plus, it has you feeling more like a meerkat in the Savannah; constantly having to pause in concentration to pop your head up to keep an eye out to avoid leaving customers waiting. So in short, you didn’t get anything done.

It leaves you feeling disgruntled but ultimately, you can’t find the strength to care anyways (you aren’t paid enough to). You’re on your last two hours of your shift, cashing out the last customer before the line is deemed clear for you to scurry back over to the closest aisle you were reorganizing but when you round the corner into it, you bump into a body.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry I didn’t see you!” You gasp out hurriedly, the blow disorienting you for a second so when you finally get a good look at the person, you almost do a double take, eyes widening in surprise. “Jungkook?”

“Hey, poppet — been a while huh?”

And it has, now that you get a good look at him. He’s dressed like he always does — a baggy black shirt that looks to be two sizes too big on him and matching black jogger pants but his hair on the other hand; the dark locks are much longer than you had last remembered, the fringes splitting in the middle nearly reach down to either sides of his chin, falling in thick, wavy locks. It has you starstruck; only ever used to seeing the actual Jungkook from BTS with short, coiffed hair either parted slightly to the side or with fringes flopping over his forehead. If you dare say it, this new look has you almost falling for him, almost. You eventually compose yourself and, after glancing around to make sure no one was around, you drag him deeper into the aisle to continue your conversation.

“Yeah it has,” You begin, feeling strangely awkward but nonetheless happy to see the younger demon. “Thought your visa expired or something.”

Jungkook shakes his head before sweeping the hair out of his eyes briefly as they gleam along with the barest hints of those two bunny teeth through his smile. He’s cheeky as you had remember him being, but for some reason, you sense that it’s been dialled down by a couple of notches like something is weighing on his mind. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s been up to without being too invasive right off the bat, he speaks up first.

 “When do you get off work?”

“Uh..In like,” You check your watch, “Two hours or so?”

“Good, let’s go somewhere after.”

His proposal takes you off-guard, this probably being the first time he’s ever asked you to go anywhere with him, much like Jimin before he spontaneously took you star-gazing (or lack thereof) for your birthday. Now you know something is definitely up, and you can’t help but eye him suspiciously for a good minute. He picks up on your skepticism and only chortles a laugh, reaching out to ruffle your hair which you squawk in protest before swatting his hand away vehemently.

“Relax poppet, I just…have something to talk to you about — regarding your glorified watch dog.”

“Hey!” You automatically gasp affronted, going in to smack the younger demon for bad mouthing his senior. “That’s rude and for that I’m almost tempted not to take you up on your offer.”

“But you will anyways because you’re too nosy right?”

 You have nothing to say to that and it only makes Jungkook beam at you, a full on shit-eating grin. He might’ve pronounced it as ‘nosy’, but what he meant to say was ‘curious’. And that is one vice that you can’t seem to help about yourself. So you begrudgingly agree to meet him after you finish, all the while secretly glad to have something to help you power through the remainder of your shift.

It’s evening by the time you clock out, fishing your phone from your pocket to check the time and also answering a couple of text messages, one of them being your friend who has successfully worked out everything on her end to be able to attend the concert with you. The good news washes away any mental exhaustion you feel from work instantly, and you can’t help the wide smile that breaks out over your lips. You return your friend’s enthusiasm through a series of keyboard smashing text bubbles and badly misspelled words but vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass aside, it all further makes everything feel so much more real; like this is actually happening.

“Hey, you know texting and walking is becoming the leading cause to pedestrian deaths in the past year recently right? Stop contributing to that.” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as well as his grip on the back of your shirt, yanking you until you feel yourself tipping backwards but just as you let out a yelp, your surroundings shifts in a swirl of colours and warped images and before you have a chance to make out any of them, it stops and you find yourself in a completely different place than where you had been.

You stumble on your feet, going as far as to grip onto Jungkook’s arm less you wanted to fall flat on your face until you feel like you have a grasp on your vertigo again.

“Don’t,” You wheeze, blinking hard in hopes of stopping your world from spinning in your eyes, gaze firmly locked on your shoes. “Don’t do that without warning next time!”

“Then what fun would that be?” You hear Jungkook snicker above you.

You want to smack him again but you’re more focused on pulling yourself together. When you do, you finally let go of his arm to take a look at your surroundings. You’re surprised to see that Jungkook had teleported the both of you to what appears to be a rooftop garden. And not just the typical, modern city rooftop garden that looks like an open patio people would host fancy cocktail parties on, no, this is an actual garden on a rooftop. You’re standing on a gravel pathway that’s bordered by different shrubberies interspersed with tall, wispy ornamental grasses that sway at the slightest of breezes. In areas where there are more soil space, you spot what appears to be bushels of lavender peeking through to break up the shades of green that overtake the place but what’s even more surprising is that you also spy a couple of trees planted that gives you the impression that this is quite a big rooftop.

“You’ll catch a fly if you keep your mouth open like that.”

You immediately snap it shut, not doubting Jungkook on that considering how much greenery you’re surrounded with, but it still doesn’t stop your amazement from coming through.

“W-Where is this? Are we still even in the city?”

The demon snorts, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets as he begins to stroll off. “Yeah, it’s just a place I found. Apparently it’s owned by some big shot CEO.”

You hastily pick up your pace in order to catch up to his longer strides, can’t help your brow from furrowing at the information. “What if we get caught up here?”

“Nah, bastard hardly ever comes up this far in the building — it’s all just for show. Besides,” Jungkook smirks, “Who says ‘we’re’ getting caught? Other mortals can’t see me remember.”

Right.

You kiss your teeth at that, having no choice but to believe in the younger demon that you won’t get caught trespassing any time soon. So with a sigh, you continue alongside Jungkook as you make your way around the garden. “So,” You start off, “You said you wanted to talk to me about Jimin?”

You glance up at Jungkook when he offers you no immediate response, catching an eyeful of his profile. Deep brown eyes are lost in the horizon ahead of him in an almost trance like state as the slowly setting sun turns the sky into vibrant hues of pink, orange and purple. The warm rays cast upon Jungkook’s skin makes it appear almost golden, glowing from the inside and his hair shines with a rich lushness that you even catch the subtle hues of brown in them.

You’re so caught up in his visuals that for a moment you actually think it’s a good thing no one else can see him because no doubt, he’d be turning heads and getting mobbed just by walking down the street (or perhaps it’s a shame that he can’t be seen). You also get caught up at how scarily accurate he seems to have the actual Jungkook look pinned down; from his shapely thin lips, cutting jawline, prominent nose to his expressive doe eyes and of course, his signature bunny smile. It makes you wonder if there was something he missed from being a perfect copy of the young Korean vocalist.

Finally, as if feeling eyes on him, Jungkook inclines his head towards you, shaking his long fringe in order to see through them and making the numerous silver hoop earrings on his lobe and cartilage twinkle in the remaining light. You try to school your face into one of indifference but the creeping blush on your cheeks gives you away at your shameless staring (you think you might’ve been openly gaping at him too, how embarrassing!)

His lips twitches in the slightest at the corner but he doesn’t comment. Instead he silently ambles over to the left of a slight fork in the path, coming up to what you finally notice are small steps leading to a slightly elevated, wooden deck that gives you an impressive view of the city below behind the safety of glass panels and railings that come up high enough to prevent anyone from climbing over. Jungkook comes to a stop before it and you follow suit just beside him. Another moment of silence passes between you two before he asks you a question that takes you completely off-guard.

“What do you think of Jimin?”

You buffer in answering, mind jumping to all sorts of interpretations and wild assumptions. Clearing your throat to mask the fact you might’ve choked on your spit a little, you stutter out with the vain attempt at seeming totally nonchalant about it, cheeks burning for different reasons this time, “L-Like what? Like, how he is as a demon? Or…like, him as my guardian….?”

“Him, as himself, as honest as you can be.”

You suck in a breath, thrown into an even bigger loop at how blunt Jungkook’s being so suddenly in regards to your guardian demon. “Well,” you drag out, eyes shifting self-consciously as your hand reaches up to scratch the back of your head. “If I have to be honest…I…I think he’s pretty alright for a demon….”

“….Really?”

The deadpan and disbelief in Jungkook’s tone makes you whip your gaze to him and his expression makes you blink incredulously at him. He almost looks offended and a little too serious for a simple enough question, as if your answer will determine the fate of the universe and you just fucked everyone over by giving a half-assed one. It has you back-tracking defensively, like you really did doom humanity but it’s not like you mean to! No one told you so much was at stake in the first place!

“W-What?! Why are you even asking me this so suddenly?!”

Jungkook lets out a loud sigh, the sound rough around the edges from frustration bleeding into it as he says, “Just — “ But then stops himself, shutting his eyes briefly as if to reconsider his approach. You watch quietly as he runs a hand through his hair, tousling the locks and watching them fall back into place. He takes a deep breath in before letting it out, eyes sliding back open to the view in front of him. It’s dark now for the most part, the warm orange light from the setting sun being nothing more than a sliver of colour that eventually gets engulfed by the overwhelming navy blue of the night and in its place are the millions of fluorescent lights that shine from the windows of the buildings and skyscrapers around you.

It’s a nice scenic view from where you and Jungkook both stand, but you’re more so concentrated on trying to read the demon’s expression, so unused to seeing his handsome face pinched into something that isn’t cheeky or teasing in nature. The sight of it mellows you out, thinking that perhaps there really is a much more serious meaning to his question. After a few moments, Jungkook speaks again, his voice low and gravelly with an unknown emotion.

“You and I both know that Jimin doesn’t have that much time left as your guardian. And you and I both know what that will mean when the time comes.”

Ah, there it is.

Your chest suddenly feels as if a weight has nestled itself on it at the sobering statement. Every once in a while, that fact has crept into your thoughts but each time it did, you had always pushed it aside; for more pressing matters at the moment and simply because…. You don’t want to think about it. You don’t want to think about the limited time you have left to spend with Jimin and that at any moment, he’ll tell you he’s leaving or even worse, he’ll simply be gone without a word or trace, and you’ll just have to move on with your life.

“Y-Yeah…I know.” You struggle to work around the constricting feeling, fingers fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I…I just don’t like thinking about it.”

You glance over when Jungkook doesn’t give you a response, only to meet his deep brown gaze already on you with a look that tells you to elaborate. Your face flushes again at having to divulge your inner most feelings but as you had come to realize earlier, this means a lot to Jungkook so you feel obligated to give a (much more) honest answer. Swallowing, your eyes fall onto anywhere but at the demon beside you.

“You better not tell him this…” You can’t help muttering petulantly before starting, “Jimin….He’s done a lot for me — things that I can’t even express my thanks for in words. I don’t know if he told you or if you found out, but he got me tickets to go see BTS.”

“So I’ve heard…”

A small smile creeps up on your lips at the memory, recalling all the emotions you felt on that day. “I honestly didn’t expect him to; I even said I didn’t want his help in scoring tickets the first time he offered but then, he just goes and…gets them.” You shake your head. “He really didn’t have to you know? I mean, it would’ve sucked that I didn’t get to go but I would’ve gotten over it somehow, eventually. So for him to go out of his way, doing something that I’m sure was beyond his contract as my temporary guardian is…. “ You trail off, not knowing if you can find the words or if there really is any to describe how grateful you are because Jimin giving you those tickets meant more than just being able to see BTS, he’s given you a shoulder to cry on (quite literally), listened to your deepest worries that you seldom talk about even to your closest friends and given you his honest advice and support. He’s looked out for you in little ways when there are times he could’ve chosen not to, made sure you ate, slept and took time for yourself.

He showed you that there is a sort of hope that all things will pass and good things will come in time. You don’t know when it happened, but Jimin had become a great source of comfort for you, something irreplaceable and someone who had made you want to do better, take chances and just…live a little.

“He might not like to admit it, but Jimin’s a lot sweeter than he lets on… Or at least, when he deems you worthy of being in his good books.” You let out a light laugh, already picturing his stink eye at the mention of him being remotely ‘good’. From beside you, you hear Jungkook snort.

“I really want to repay him somehow…. And not just for giving me tickets to see BTS. But I don’t think there’s anything I can do or give that would be enough and that… that frustrates me.” You conclude, your own voice dropping into a wistful murmur as you lean against the railings.

Jungkook watches you, seeing the faraway glassy look in your eyes that tells him how lost in thought you were. He sees the way your face seems to soften, heard the way your voice had grown quieter in the gentle way you had spoken of Jimin and though it had not been much, Jungkook’s heard all the things you’ve left unspoken.

It’s the same whenever Jimin speaks about you.

He scoffs quietly under his breath, defeated.

“H-Hey! Don’t leave me!” You yelp, breaking out of your train of thoughts just in time to catch the creak and rustle of Jungkook descending the small steps to continue the walk down the pathway which had been lit up by little post lights along the ground. You hurry after him, not wanting to risk being stranded on this tall high-rise office building that you have no business being in. “You still never told me why you’re asking me this all of a sudden.”

“…Just think of it as a warning for what’s to come.” Jungkook says simply. “It won’t be easy, and you’re only making it harder on yourself by becoming attached.”

You stiffen, the grip on your bag strap tightens as your steps slow a bit to a drag, kicking up the small stones as you go. “I…I know that… I just…” You sigh heavily, shoulders sagging. “I’ll deal with it when the time comes alright?”

It’s a pathetic answer even to your ears, but as much as you want to ignore the elephant in the room, Jungkook’s right. There’s no stopping Jimin from leaving you once he gets the okay from heaven — it’s heaven for crying out loud, who goes against the words of God? Besides, who’s to say Jimin would want to stick around you if given the chance. Maybe it’s just you that’s clinging onto him because of all he’s done for you…. But can you really blame yourself for that? He’s done so much and yet you could do nothing —

You nearly stop walking altogether, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Unknowingly you’ve come full circle to the one thing that had been fixated on your mind ever since you’ve thought about it and now… Now you’re starting to think that maybe, unconsciously, you’ve already decided on what it is that you wanted to do.

Your faltering steps catches Jungkook off guard when he notices you weren’t following him, making him turn around to see that you in a way he could only describe as a lightbulb going off in your head.

“What, forgot you left the stove on at home?” Jungkook asks, one eyebrow raised.

You blink back to reality, taking a moment to process what he said before shaking your head. “No, no…Just remembered something…”

He gives you a weird look before shrugging and you fall back into step with him again. Eventually, the two of you reach a sort of dead end where there is fewer plants and an open space that reminded you more of a sand garden instead. Patches of shrubbery still dot around in this spacious area but all that appears here is a stepping stone path that leads to a bench situated under a large tree. It’s significantly bigger than the small maples that you had seen walking around the gravel pathway but it still only had a few small green leaves scattered sparsely on its branches, seeing as how spring has only just begun. Along with the LED lamp lights stuck into the ground along the pathway, the space is also lit up by fairy lights that outline the border of this part of the garden that you had no doubt would make for a great place for a romantic date.

It’s nice, you think idly as you admire your surroundings, if only this was a public place and not on some rich asshole’s building, you would’ve loved to come back here just to find a peace of mind every once in a while. Your eyes wander back to Jungkook, finding him standing under the tree, head tilted back to stare up at the thick trunk. As you approach him, you see him reach out a hand to touch the rough bark in quiet contemplation and as if sensing you behind him, he speaks without turning.

“You’re a good kid poppet — and I’m kinda starting to see why Jimin hadn’t locked you in a basement for the duration of his community service hours just to get it over with.”

“Uhh….thanks? I guess…” You reply, bewildered but strangely reassured.

“Make sure you don’t lose that good head of yours in the future, yeah?” Jungkook says amicably but you can’t help to think that there is something deeper to his well-meaning words. When he turns to you, you nod regardless and it’s enough to have the corner of Jungkook’s lips lift in a half smile filled with something you can’t quite discern in the shadows that fall across his face. It’s gone before you can really pin it down as Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, pushing the thick locks out of his eyes and gestures with his chin at you.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home before your guardian chews my head off.”

“I already told you; we’ll meet tomorrow at midnight, I’ll pay you half of the money and then the other half when we’re done.” Jimin grinds out between his teeth, clutching his phone so tightly he fears he’ll end up cracking the device. The person on the other shoots off more bullshit that Jimin could care less about and with a hard roll of his eyes, he ends the call abruptly, the boiling irritation makes his skin feel hot. He runs a hand through his hair out of habit, mussing the brunette strands until they fall slightly parted against his forehead.

If he hadn’t known better, Jimin thinks being smited would’ve been way less painful than what he’s gotten himself into. But then again, it’s pretty fucking hard to find a reliable informant in the black market on ways to transition himself into a guardian angel. Or at least, that’s what he hopes would happen. Jimin lets out a scathing laugh, finding this all morbidly funny, considering this was the least shadiest option he’s found in his day and a half manhunt after getting Jungkook to help him was a bust.

No matter, Jimin’s come into terms that he’s willing to bet everything he has at a shot of this. He’s not willing to wait around and let some higher being decide his fate if he so can help it because for the first time in in his life, this is something he’s willing to fight for.

And if this all goes to shit….

Well, he at least likes to think he’s a decent gambler.

Taking the crystal glass in his hands, Jimin knocks back the drink with ease, letting the smokey aftertaste linger on his palate as he licks his lips. When he sets the glass down, he bristles, suddenly aware of an all too familiar presence beside him.

“If you’re here to berate me, then save your breath because you’re not going to change my mind.”

Jimin hears a loud sigh and then suddenly the bartender scurries over from having been waved down by the younger. Not long after, a second glass of whiskey is placed before them, making Jimin quirk an eyebrow.

Jungkook takes a healthy swig of the drink, grimacing as he swallows. He turns to Jimin who looks at him with open curiousity.

“Last I remember you don’t like whiskey.”

“I don’t like a lot of things brother,” Jungkook corrects, dark eyes trained on the way he swirls the liquor in his glass absentmindedly. “And as much as I don’t like what you’re planning to do, I’d rather not have you doing something even more dangerous for it.” He inhales deeply, as if after much deliberation, finally turning his attention to Jimin, a hard look marring his face.

“That’s why I’ll tell you — I’ll tell you what you need to do to become a guardian angel.”

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jksangelic · 6 years ago

Text

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: romance, angst, dry humor, smut, undergroundrapper!yoongi (don’t be fooled, yoongi is a soft lover in this), one-shot (divided for the sake of a functioning mobile tumblr)

↳ pairing: yoongi x reader

↳ parts: 1 | 2 | 3

�� word count: 2.8k

↳ a/n: here’s the first part! second part comes tmro, and third comes the next day, both releasing at 10PM PST! please look forward to them heehehehe.

this part does not contain smut, only light swearing and maybe some sensual themes? i don’t remember lol. it’s also not very edited hehe i’ll come back to it.

*each squiggly divider represents a flashback, straight divider represents current time*

Yoongi preferred the heat set to exactly eighty degrees Fahrenheit, which was utterly ridiculous. It caused you to toss and turn in a pool of unattractive, and possibly foul-smelling, sweat all throughout the night. Even more so, he trapped you with his own limbs, protecting you like that stupid dog from Tom and Jerry protected that awfully large and awfully raw steak. You’ve fallen in and out of consciousness because of it, surely waking up every thirty minutes while the man slept like a log.

But it was wonderful.

You open your eyes for the umpteenth time, assuring he’s still attached to the hip and planting a kiss on his forehead sleepily. What a dream it would be to stay like this forever, you think, tossing the idea away as quickly as it came. It was punishing as is and you dare not tie the noose around your own neck.

You scan the room, curtains drawn closed and tv silently flicking through commercials, casting a dim width of light onto the bed. It must still be pretty early in the morning, you assume, a bittersweet realization.

Enjoy the moment, you correct yourself, be happy that you were able to have this. So you peer down at him through foggy vision, his eyes closed and mean, twitching a bit enough that you suppose he’s dreaming of something himself. Nudging your face into his hair, which smelled faintly of smoke and peaches, you force yourself back into slumber.

For the first time tonight, you sleep deeply.

Wondering how the hell anyone was permitted admission after the venue breached occupancy threefold, you rub at the aching spot of your ribs that your neighbor unintentionally keeps jabbing. You attempt to peer over the sea of heads anyway, looking for that goddamned girl that dragged you here in the first place. Where was she? Why was she so short? Why did you wear heels to a concert?

Never did you suspect you would be pushed against barricade at 11PM on a Thursday, waiting for an artist you have never heard. The sweat that accumulates, quite frankly, everywhere was probably starting to stain your clothes at this point. The beauty of public outings.

“Y/N! Y/N! Right here!” screams the woman of your nightmares, waving maniacally more towards the middle of the crowd than you but nevertheless farther than you would like to travel in this density. You make your trek, apologizing profusely as full-grown adults glare at you for moving, oh help them all.

“I will have your head for this,” you yell into her ear, gripping the divider to ease the stinging pain stemming from your toes.

“Lighten up, you’re at a concert that you got into for free, for heaven’s sake,” Chungha pouts, bopping her head happily to whatever DJ was opening for her beloved. “I think you’ll like these guys, anyway. Really good rappers, up-and-coming and all that good stuff.”

“Yeah, if they even show up. This poor dude has been playing for over an hour. Do you suppose his fingers hurt from pressing all those buttons?” She rolls her eyes in a way that says, please stop already. You really just want to know.

If this DJ had any influence of what the main act would be, you would rather just leave, plain and simple. This wasn’t really your thing in the first place, Overwatch and Red Dead Redemption (not one, but TWO!) sounding much more appealing than listening to EDM’s Worst Hits. But Chungha was a sweetheart who you’d marry in an instant, and when she asked you to come and claimed she already got you a ticket because she knew you couldn’t possibly say no to her, well, you couldn’t possibly say no to her.

You even dressed up for the occasion, a mix of Instagram baddie and Tumblr aesthetic (a sum of words you’d never like to use again) smooshed into one oddly cute outfit, if you did say so yourself.

It wasn’t worth your time.

But then the music starts changing pace, lights changing colors and dimming and smoke machines going ham and you suppose it’s finally starting. Three men walk out, one with orange hair and a long but pretty nose, heart mouth showcasing the straightest teeth you’ve ever seen on a human being, the second slightly shorter, bleached hair styled messily and the hand holding his mic covered in rings, the final with a smirking dimple, leading them out and hyping up the crowd with a few welcoming words that you don’t quite make out.

“There’s three,” you state dumbly.

“Great job counting! Remind me to give you a cookie later,” Chungha retorts halfheartedly, much more intrigued by seeing these men in person, “The guy in front is RM, he’s their leader. Blonde is Suga. J-Hope is the sexy one—HOSEOK OPPA!” She screams as if she’s been struck with a spatula, eyes wide and focusing.

You like their style, you’ll give them that. RM starts the song strong, lyrics so quick and diction so clear that it sounds as if he’s rapping directly to you. They all bounce around the stage, people at barricade, including your friend, reaching out and bobbing along in synchronization. J-Hope follows suit, stage presence oddly intimidating and seductive concurrently, his body more fluid and powerful than any dancer you’ve seen before. You can see why he would be the ladies’ man, lying to yourself if you said your eyes haven’t focused on his hips more often than not.

And without warning, Suga bursts into his own lines, atmosphere changing almost immediately when he brings the mic to his mouth. It’s hypnotic, his words continuously stringing out without break, without a single beat missed. You watch in fear. As the crowd around you screams and attempts to chime in, Suga steps closer and closer to them, squatting down right in front of where you stand and finishing his part with a deep, breathy note. He sits there as both men and women (and Chunga) paw at him and for the smallest of moments, do you think, his eyes lock on you.

It sets you on fire.

Yoongi always made it a point to study the faces of his fans out of appreciation. It would be foolish to say he’d be able to recognize each and every person he’s ever encountered, but he knows you were one to sketch into the archives of his mind. It doesn’t help that you are the only one, mouth slightly agape and teeth biting the inside of your cheek, completely still and studying. For the first time in a while, he feels intimidated; self-conscious even. More than a listener amongst the energetic mob, you look more like a critic.

It makes him shiver.

I would be his groupie in a heartbeat, you think, no doubt that he too is infamous around women wherever he goes. Whatever the matter, seeing this enigma of a man was worth your whole night’s experience.

I love, I love, I love myself! The audience screams, bass intensifying as the other two reach for water bottles propped on the stage. I love, I love, I love myself!

J-Hope throws in some ad-libs, sipping from his water before chucking the lid entirely, Namjoon putting a hand to his ear to egg everyone on and holding his own water above. You still stand in place, astonished how ethereal someone can look on stage and you instantaneously understand why people barricade. Suga catches you again, still squatted in the same position, possibly too lazy to get a water for himself but lets his brothers do what they must, and grins subtly.

You must look absolutely moronic gaping at this man, tongue-in-cheek impressed and hands barely gripped around the bars while everyone else around strains to be closer to the stars of the night.

I love, I love, I love myself! Y’all player hater, you should love yourself!

And that’s when you get—at least, half of a water bottle’s worth of water thrown at your direction. Right in front of the newfound man of your dreams. Everyone else screams madly, acting like these gods have blessed their parched souls with water after days on end, while you now look a little like a wet dog dressed in a hoochie skirt. You shrug, wiping at whatever was worth attempting to dry and thanking the gods that your makeup wasn’t running.

“Oh my god, your shirt is soaked!” Chungha lately notices, head whipping back and forth from the boys to you, back to the boys just in case she was missing something important.

“I would sell myself for that man,” you deadpan, not even blinking towards her.

“Suga? I bet he would accept if you managed to offer it to him.”

“I would easily give him all of the money in my savings right now.”

“You don’t have a savings. Pay attention.”

So you did.

You relished in every part Suga had, finally gathering up enough brain cells to at least rock with everyone else. Every song was like a lucid dream, the concert high really resonating with you. Either that, or you were literally high off of how much smoke there was. Gotta love rap concerts.

Perhaps it was the luck of the opening song, but Suga didn’t make eye contact with you again, a beaten disappointment gurgling in your stomach. But instead of behaving as a kicked puppy and moping about losing every possible chance that the blonde devil would bring you atop the stage and dedicate his serenade of sorts strictly to your face in front of hundreds of people--well, the chances were nearly zero. We're not all winners.

Suga continues on, trying not to focus on the girl with the sharp eyes that makes him clammy to the point where his throat threatens to constrict on him, which isn't optimal. He finishes song after song with his brothers, taking long enough breaks in between to catch his breath and focus on the bigger picture: that there was an entire crowd to please and not just you. Besides, there would always be a pretty or handsome face no matter where he went, he was Suga, goddammit, he wasn't a high school horndog ready to pounce on every intriguing entity he just casually glanced at. That role was a style more befitting for his brothers.

Upon your cognizance that this group was downright brilliant, the concert ends much sooner than you would have liked it. And just like that, the three send their love and are ushered behind the stage. It takes a while for the swarm to dissipate, interlacing your fingers with Chungha's to insure you don't lose her again.

"So, I take it you liked them," she giggles, forehead sheen with sweat because holy shit it's so fucking hot in here.

"They are really... talented. I award proper recognition when it's truly deserved." Tired of waiting, you practically shove your way past the bodies, dragging your poor friend behind you and bee-lining for the entrance.

"Wait! Do you want to get merch?" You twitch your nose, not entirely opposing the idea.

"Are you sure you don't want to just hop in? I'll pay for you!" Chungha cries, halfway into her Uber.

"Sis, I live down the street, I promise I'll be fine. I'll call you when I get home."

"That's so far!"

"I'm walking away now. Go home."

She harrumphs once for effect before waving goodbye, Prius soundlessly whooshing away while your best friend sticks her tongue out at you in the back window. You laugh at her foolishness before spinning on your heel and making your way.

It was just the right amount of chilly, breeze cooling you down a notch. You bet your ass you would remember this night forever, writing a mental note to check out the group on every social platform there was when you got home.

You skirt down a corner of the building, aiming for the route of your apartment--or, at least, where you think it is? "Sense of direction" surely wasn't the best trait on your resume. Walking down the dim street, you notice a few trickling souls walking in and out of the building, probably help from the venue closing up. It's when you see Suga, attempting to light his cigarette and leaning against a black van that you stop like a deer in headlights.

"Suga!" you point and exclaim like a child.

"... Wanna say that any louder, toots?" He chuckles, though, seemingly pleased rather than offended. He scoffs at his empty lighter, tucking the thing in his pocket and leaving his cigarette unlit on his lips.

"S-Sorry. My bad. Do you, uh, need a light?" you offer apologetically, digging through your purse to grab your lucky lighter, an embarrassing bright pink thing with Betty Boop floating in the middle.

"Thanks," he smiles, grabbing the lighter from your hand and flicking it to life as he takes a drag. "Do you smoke?"

"Not cigarettes. Honestly, I already regret offering that to you. That's a bad habit to kick," you sigh, taking it back when he hands it to you.

"Don't I know it." He glances up at your face when he returns your lighter, showing a regretful smirk but studying your face in the process. Well, hell, if it wasn't for the barricade critic.

"I recognize you," he continues, "you were up front, right?"

"Oh, god, I can't believe you remember that."

His heart skips at the match, blowing smoke out the corner of his mouth and pushing himself off the van. "You, uh, looked unimpressed. Got me worried that I lost my game for a bit."

"No! I wasn't unimpressed at all. I'm just a new fan, I guess. My friend brought me. I think I was just in awe, if anything. I even got this hood--"

You quite literally bite your tongue, wishing you could slap your face at the outburst, realization running over you like a train.

"You got what?" he presses, a sly curiousness brimming.

"N-Nothing. You were good. That's all."

"'That's all'? Geez, you're really putting me down over here, toots." He throws the butt and stomps it out, "Those eyes of yours really made me nervous."

Your eyes? How smooth of him. "Oh, I doubt that. You seemed just fine to me."

He hesitates to respond; what exactly are you trying to get at here? Sweet and sour, he supposes. It's interesting to him compared to the countless amount of substance-less gals that suck up to him to simply suck him. New fans certainly were feisty, he supposes.

"Do you live around here?" he asks.

"Are you going to stalk me? Yes."

"Well, if I was, you probably shouldn't have said yes before I answered. But luckily, no." He sticks out his hand, clad with rings of, you're sure of, soaring prices beyond what you can imagine for jewelry, "I'm Min Yoongi. But I guess everyone kinda just calls me Suga now. You can call me Yoongi, if you'd like. Can I ask for your name?"

You take his hand softly, hoping he doesn't notice the way you shrink in it because heavens that near-zero chance of meeting Suga certainly did skyrocket. "It's Y/N."

"Mm, pretty," he comments surely. "Well, Y/N. We're actually going to be here for a while, just finished a few shows here and there and decided to take a break until we can figure out bigger plans," he's talking too much, "Anyway, would you want to hang out sometime?"

You shiver in astonishment, what was happening here? What kind of lucky star flew over your head for this? Your goosebumps had goosebumps.

"That... Yeah, that would be great! Do you... Do you want my number?"

"Would love it," he declares, taking his phone out and setting up your contact without delay.

"Do you do this much? Snag a girl's number after a show?" you joke as you type in your number. Yoongi snorts.

"Girls don't necessarily talk to me in a well-respected manner, let alone offer me a light."

"Well, don't expect that last bit anymore. Smoking really is a pet-peeve of mine," you warn. Who were you to warn him of something you didn't like? Idiot!

"Yes, ma'am. I'll shoot you a text sometime. Was nice meeting you," he says, watching you nod and smile and wave goodbye as you continue on home, Suga's name printed enormously on the back of the new sweatshirt you bought from the merch stand. He bites back a snicker, picking at the hair on his neck before walking back inside.

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