#btsneabl

[thedefinitionofbts]

Only Now

Pairings: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 8.5K

Description: Requested by @softelkie

When you close your eyes, you can hear his voice intertwined with the sound of waves crashing against blushing beaches at sunset, a faint whisper originating from a dream beyond the horizon, one that you had never been able to decipher until now.

A/N: This is also my entry for the NEABL Writing Contest! Hope you guys enjoy ^_^

You know that song?

The one that makes you feel happy and sad at the same time? The one with the lyrics that conjure fluttering hearts and forgotten memories?

The song that makes you think about the boy you love?

...

The smell of the ocean is something you know better than the back of your hand. A cool, salty breeze that reminds you of rippling water, shimmering under bright orange sunsets and cloudless pink skies. It’s the scent of your childhood adventures and nostalgic daydreams, a fragrance stronger than the flourishing gardens of your adulthood, an aroma more thrilling than the most potent of spices.

Perhaps your love for the seaside was what brought you back to that small town after university. The town you hadn’t seen since you packed your bags and headed to the city in search of new faces and limitless opportunity, but it was only a matter of time before your longing for the return of your youthful dreams drew you back to the ocean.

In search of that place again, you were definitely being naive to not expect grown-up responsibilities to follow you there, and leave it to your parents to remind you of your aging body and transpiring days. 

“Honey, you’re nearing your mid-twenties. You should consider meeting someone, don’t you think?”

“Mom, you can’t force these things.” You fight back the urge to get annoyed. She’s been pushing you to start dating ever since you entered your junior year, worried that you’ll soon reach that age when you’re considered undesirable. “It just hasn’t happened yet, ok?”

She sighs. “You can’t be too picky.”

“I’m not!” There’s irritation in your voice this time.

“What about that friend of yours?” She raises her brows. “Jimin, was it? He seems like a decent option.”

“MOM!” You stand up from the table, pushing your chair back loudly. “Jimin is just a friend. Can we please stop talking about this?” You literally can’t believe she’s bringing this up on your first night back when she knows for a fact that you hated discussing the topic. 

“Your mother is right.” Your dad seems to find your mild exasperation a good sign to conveniently butt in. “Time will soar by faster than you can predict.”

“Dad” You whine, hating yourself for acting like a child, ironic because you’re always seeking to dwell inside adolescent dreams. 

“We're just looking out for you.” He sighs. “We don’t want you to be alone when you are old.”

Perhaps it’s because his words hit the spot you had tried to conceal. That concern you had convinced yourself was not worthy enough to bring you down. Or perhaps it just reminds you of how childish you really are, for secretly dreaming you’ll end up with a person who probably doesn’t even exist. Waiting for someone who will never come. Looking for someone you’ll never find.

“I need some space.” You hastily excuse yourself from the table, taking long strides towards the door and slamming it shut to make your point. You honestly cannot believe your parents are treating you like this when you’ve just graduated from university. Shouldn’t they be happy that you’ve accomplished one of life’s big milestones? They should be congratulating you, not giving you more shit to stress over. 

And what the flying fuck is wrong with being single? Why can’t they just accept that you’re happy being alone? That you don’t need a significant other to live a good life. It’s so absolutely infuriating that you have to take deep breaths to calm yourself as you make your way to the beach.   

There are neither winds nor clouds to hide the stars and the moon, only soft laps of water smoothing across the wet sand. The calming silence is reminiscent of all those nights you snuck out of the house in search of irreplaceable peace, a type of serenity you cannot find anywhere else.

Sitting on the rock that faces the ocean, you can sense your anger fading. Thank god because this is exactly what you came back for and if even your secret hideaway couldn’t relieve you of irritation, you might as well head back to the city. But just as you were about to relax fully, the rustle of footsteps on the grass startles you, and the voice that follows makes you jump out of your skin.

“Enjoying the view?”

You whip your head around to see the shadowy figure of a boy, face half hidden by dark, long bangs that sweep across his eyes. His hands are tucking in the pockets of his hoodie, skin of his knees barely peeking through ripped black jeans.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” The questions tumble out of your mouth before you realize how absurd you must sound, interrogating some stranger as if they had just trespassed into your territory.

He chuckles lightly at your bewilderment. “I think I should be the one asking those questions. I’ve been coming here for years, and it’s the first time I’ve seen you occupying my spot.”

“Your spot?” 

He tilts his head and points at the rock you are perched on.

“Oh, I-I’m ss-orry. I didn’t know.” You clumsily climb down, feeling kind of stupid for acting like you owned the place despite the fact that you’ve been gone for the last four years.

“Hey, it’s fine. I can share.” There’s a playful hint in his voice, and it stirs your curiosity.

You pause midway down, unsure if you should go back up or just leave, but your distracting mental debate causes you to take a misstep. The stranger quickly lunges over, holding his arms out just in time to catch you before you fall.  

You slam against his chest, firm but just soft enough that it doesn’t hurt. In that moment your mind is blank, cheeks flushes from the sudden turn of events.

“Shit, s-sorry.” Averting your eyes to avoid how awkward the situation has become, you wish you had been more careful. 

He laughs lightheartedly. “Leaving so soon?”

Realizing you were still trapped in his arms, you hastily remove yourself by taking a step back. “I don’t want to get in the way of you and your….” You trail off, not knowing what a boy his age would do out by the ocean in the early evening, but whatever it was, there was probably no place for you in the equation.  

He chuckles again, this time nose scrunching up and eyes crinkling around the edges. “I could use some company.”

His response is an invite for you to stay, but hesitation prevents you from accepting his offer right away. You had come out to be alone

“But you seem like you have a lot on your mind.” He speaks before you can formulate an answer. “I’ll just find another rock.”

“Wait…” The word slips past your lips before you can organize your thoughts, and conclude whether or not you actually wanted to stop him from leaving. You swallow, not knowing what invisible force, urge, or desire gave you the push to ask him to stay. For one, you didn’t even know the guy. He could be some creepy stalker for all you knew, but then again, he seems all right judging by his politeness and did he smell pleasantly of citrus and strawberries too? Not that you were purposefully taking note of his scent, but it was kind of hard to miss when you literally fell into his arms two seconds ago.

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He’s the first to speak after the two of you are comfortably situated back on the rock.

“I just moved back home after graduating from college. I mean, I’ll probably have to look for a job in the city eventually, but I figured it’s good to take some time off.”

He nods, leaning back an observing you more closely.

“How about you?” You direct the question back, not wanting to miss a chance to learn more about him.

“I wanted to find an inspirational place to compose and the ocean was mysteriously alluring.” There’s a mischievous hint in his voice, like he wanted to spark a bit of your interest, which he’s successful in doing.

“You’re a writer?” You ask, unable to hold yourself back.

“A song writer.”  

“Oh, a musician.”

“Aspiring to be.” His lip quirks upward as you turn to glance at him.

You continue to look at him as his attention is mesmerized by the boundless water, tracing along the contours of his face, outlined by the silver moonlight, and noticing rather naturally how soothingly attractive his features are. The way his nose curves at the tip, his slightly parted lips and relaxed eyelids as he breathes gently. Despite the obscurity of the night, you can effortlessly see his appearance with the help of his aura and something strangely familiar about his demeanor.

“May I ask for your name?” It suddenly hits you that you have yet to ask the most basic of questions.

He turns back to face you, lips curving up as he blinks slowly, almost sleepily.

“Jungkook.” His voice is low, marginally husky, but smooth like the sand underneath the perennial waves.

“Jungkook.” You repeat, lowering your gaze and noticing how instinctively it glides off your tongue.

“And you?” Startled by his question your pupils shoot back up.

“Y-Y/N” There’s an obvious break in your voice as you pronounce the syllables, nerves kicking back in for reasons you can’t comprehend.

“Y/N.” He exhales it the same way he had said his own name, and the warmth ignited in your heart is undeniable.

A stillness floats between the two of you as the night grows older, but it is in no way uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact.

“So do you have any plans for the rest of the summer?”

His sudden inquiry snaps you out of your reverie. “Huh?” You whip you head back to see that he’s looking at you intently.

“You mentioned taking some time off.” He adds casually.

“Oh…right…ummm” Surprisingly it’s something you hadn’t really thought about. What were you going to do besides relaxing by the sea?

“If it’s too personal or something, you don’t have to answer.” There’s no trace of bitterness in his voice, no sign that he’s just saying it out of courtesy. You can tell he really means it.

You quietly laugh to yourself at how awkward you were being. “N-no, it’s just. I guess I’m not really sure. Haven’t exactly planned, you know?”

He nods, tongue poking out to wet his lips out of habit. “In that case, would you like to hang out sometime? Like during the day?”

“Are you asking me out?” The blunt words escape before you realize and you immediately regret being so inept, mentally face palming and missing the way his smile grows wider.    

“Yes. I am.” His own blunt response makes your cheeks heat up even more. You have a hard time finding the right words to accept his offer, years of turning people down have done opposite of preparing you for this moment.

“It’s fine if you don’t. I don’t want to make you feel forced.” He adds quietly, finally looking away nervously.  

“No! I mean, y-yes. I-I’d like to hang out.” This time you mentally face palm so hard, you swear you can hear the loud smack tangibly.

He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’m honored.” He comments teasingly as he pulls out his phone.

You quickly mimic his motion; assuming that this is the part you’re supposed to offer him your number. When the screen lights up to half blind you, the first thing you notice after your eyes have adjusted is the time, or more precisely how late it already was. “Shit!” You involuntarily curse.

“You have to get back home, right?”

Nodding frantically, you flash him an apologetic look. “I’m basically free every day.”

Your reassuring words make him smile.

“Me too” He responds.

The last thing you see that night is his lingering gaze trailing after you as you run back along the path cutting through the grassy field, further and further away until his figure diminishes, transforming into a small speckle in the distance. At the waning of that transient image, you feel something you don’t think you’ve ever felt before, at least not for someone you’ve just met: the reluctance to leave.

You don’t know what it is about him, what he possesses that sparks your fascination in learning more about him. How he was able to engage so much of you so early on. Maybe it’s the ocean’s doing, just like that person it makes you see when you close your eyes.

Maybe it’s the way he smiled at you, washing away the anxieties that accompany the act of meeting new people. Or maybe it’s the way his voice was the kind to tell stories without words, calming your fears with an un-pinpointed familiarity.

Whatever it was, you were undoubtedly planning on finding out.

…

The universe works in mysterious ways, because you’ve walked this earth for almost a quarter of a century never have you ever felt the kind of inexplicable excitement you did when Jungkook messages you the very next day. With the vibration of your phone waking you up, you’re greeted with near exhilaration the moment you see the text. Why was your heart racing? Why are you virtually having trouble breathing? You blame it on being woken mid REM cycle. It’s called being startled and thrown off. You were never a morning person to begin with.  

Hopping out of bed, you actually take the time to look nice or, more accurately, feel the need to do so. Normally, looking presentable was all you ever aimed for, but you were unexpectedly self-conscious about seeing him for the first time during the daylight hours, aware that the additional light would allow him to see parts of you that he couldn’t last night. The concern is a bit unusual, but you weren’t going to read too much into your suddenly altered inclinations.

You meet him at the same spot on the beach you had chatted with him the night before. The scenery looking completely different now that the sun’s rays were illuminating the entire area, the tall grass, the trees leading into the shady forest, and of course, the lively ocean.

You find him leaning against the giant rock, hands casually tucked into the safety of his pockets, and gaze cast towards the breathtaking body of water. In any other scenario, you would’ve been more interested in how stunning the surface of the sea was sparkling under the iridescent light, but in that moment, your fixation was drawn towards the boy and how fondly he was admiring the landscape. His expression is the picture of calm, features relaxed yet the flicker of his eyes gives away how alive he was feeling at the sight of such magnificence.

“Jungkook?”

He turns. Slowly. And you don’t know why you’re holding your breath, but the moment he sees you, his lips curve upwards, transforming into the most adorable of smiles and loosening all the knots in your stomach, making your insides flutter. The moon had not lied about his attractiveness, and the sun had just confirmed the truth.

“Y/N” He breathes out airily, still grinning like a child. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“I’m not even thatlate.” You defend, pulling out your phone and checking to see that it’s technically only five minutes past the time you had told him you would arrive. “But sorry, I was just-”

“It’s fine,” He laughs. “I wouldn’t blame you. After all, wedid meet under some pretty sketchy circumstances.”

This time it’s your turn to chuckle. “You’re right. You could be some serial killer.”

He huffs another laugh. “So what made you come?”

Perhaps the question held more weight than you had taken the time to consider in that instance, but to you then, it was nothing more than a casual exchange. “It’s a small town, and I’ve got nothing to lose?” You shrug. “And how do you know I’m not dangerous?”

You’re surprised that he actually spends a good minute forming a response, but he eventually beams once more. “For all I know, you probably are. But I’m willing to take the risk.”

Your jaw drops at his reply. “Wow, so you think I’m out to hurt little boys.” You cross your arms, pretending to be offended.

“Hey, I am not little.” He pouts, bottom lip protruding on it’s own accord.  

“Whatever you say~” You continue to tease, even though you feel kind of mean for doing so.

The mood is lifted, and your remaining worries from the morning have completely disappeared.

Jungkook inquires about you childhood as the two of you survey the forest and lush green fields. You find it interesting that all the places he takes you are the exact ones you enjoyed exploring as a child: the old tree that curves downward to form a nice shelter, it’s stair-like branches making it perfect for climbing, the trail of stepping stones along the stream leading to the hidden waterfall at the side of the mountain, and the tall cliff over-looking the awe-inspiring ocean.

“Oh god, you’re going to fall.” Your eyes are stretched wide as you watch him crawl towards the end of the branch the two of you were sitting on as he attempts to catch one of the largest butterflies you’ve ever seen.

“I won’t” He grunts, still fully concentrated on the target. You can’t deny that he’s athletic by the looks of his controlled movement and the bulge of his biceps, not that you were staring.

“It’s going to fly away.” You call once more, gripping on the tree trunk for dear life as his movement makes the entire branch sway.

“You’ll never obtain what you are looking for if you’re afraid you’ll lose it.”

“This is no time for philosophical remarks!” You squeak as his the branch snaps crisply. You immediately squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for the imminent fall, but all you hear is Jungkook’s laughing.

“What did I tell you?”

You open your eyes to find that he’s standing on the ground, proudly cupping the creature in his hands. Leaning down to get a closer look, the branch finally gives way. You barely have time to react before you realize that you’re actuallyfalling this time.

“Whoa!” He instinctively releases the butterfly to catch you in his arms. “Someone enjoys falling.” He chuckles as he holds onto you tightly.

“Hey, this time it's all on you.” You throw the responsibility on him before the heat can rush to your face.  

“Ok, ok. But at least I caught the-” He blinks a couple of times, visibly realizing the butterfly made an escape in his haste to catch you.

“The what?” You smirk, finding his dumbfounded reaction utterly hilarious.  

He sighs. “Are you ok?”

The genuine concern is a contrast to your own joking tone. “Um, yeah. I’m fine.” You clear your throat awkwardly.

He smiles in relief, and this time your burning face is inescapable. “Good.”

There’s something about Jungkook that strikes a perfect balance of just enough boyish charm combined with a manly protectiveness. You find out that he’s a few years younger than you, which isn’t all that surprising considering how young he actually looks. He has a baby face for sure, but there’s something about his sharp jawline and tall nose that makes him appear more mature at the same time. It’s an enigma in and of itself really, and you have to force yourself not to dwell on his appearance too often.

As striking as he is physically, it’s his aura that really leaves a lasting impression.   There’s something eerily familiar about him, but you’re afraid to allow yourself to believe it’s for the reason you’re suspecting. You’re convinced it’s just the nostalgia and your innate love for the seaside.    

Even so, you can’t deny feeling that he seems to understand you without words, without even having known you for very long, and when it feels like no one else in this world does. Although, you were most likely just jumping to conclusions too early on, but if he can make you feel like time doesn’t matter when the two of you are staring at the endless sky, that all of your anxieties are washed away as you’re breathing the scent of your childhood adventures, and that reality is just as beautiful as your most vibrant dreams, you’re more than willing to believe in his galaxy.  

…

Jungkook wasn’t lying about being a musician. You had almost forgotten that creating music was his official profession, until he brings you back to his apartment to show you his studio.

It’s small one bedroom type of flat on the seventh floor of one of the newer condos. He even got sound proof walls installed so he could work late into the night, although it would probably be a necessity during the day as well. He’s eager to sing you a song, and you can tell he’s passionate. The excitement in his eyes gives his whole heart away, and you were planning on bursting his bubble as a playful joke of some sort, that is, until his voice unapologetically steals your breath away.

Jungkook’s voice is beautiful, wholly, extraordinarily, and indisputably, to the point where it's almost unreal how he can express the full range of human emotion through song. But surprisingly, it isn’t the pure sound of his singing, but rather the familiarity that renders you speechless once again. Maybe the ocean had been trying to tell you something all along.

You’re almost in disbelief, questioning if you were being delusional in thinking the voice you were listening to right then was the exact one you had been imagining all these years. It almost causes your legs to give way, but you luck out because he stops singing the moment you start to feel your body sway.

“So what do you think?” His request snaps you sharply back into reality.

Clearing your throat and metaphorically slapping some sense back into yourself, you smirk impishly. “A song about love?”

He chuckles lightly. “Not your cup of tea?”

You shake your head; glad he picked up on your jest and didn’t take offense. “It’s not that. The song is beautiful, but a bit unrealistic don’t you think?”

“So you’re not a fan of love songs.” He bobs his head in understanding.

“So you’re pro sappy, romantic love?” You counter, reflecting his motion. It’s not that you wanted to judge his belief system or put labels on him, but you had expected his thoughts to be more aligned with yours, especially based on the conversations you’ve had with him the past couple of weeks. His outlook on life was so similar to yours; you have a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that his view on something so mainstream was vastly different. Raising a brow rather amusedly, you probe him for confirmation. “You can’t actually believe in true love can you?”

He glances at you cautiously. “Are you going to laugh in my face if I say yes?”

“I’ll try not to.” You grin, trying to hold back the laughter that is already tickling your chest. You find it charming that he’s so concerned about your opinion of him, and despite all of it, he still manages to remain honest. “It’s just, I didn’t take you to be the hopeless romantic type.”

“I’m just a casual fan.” He defends with a shrug.

“If you’re a fan that automatically makes you a believer.” You accuse playfully, feeling a wave of endearment from the way his face cutely flushes ever so slightly. The fact that he’s so pure when it comes to these things at his age and the fact that he remains true to himself in the face of your teasing just makes him even cuter.  

“I’m ok with that.” He responds. “I just didn’t expect you to be so against the idea.”

His comment suddenly makes you wonder when you started to give up on believing in love. If anything, it should be more of a female thing to be a fan of romance. “I guess I just can’t see myself that dependent on another person, or even fathoming such a person even exists? It’s hard to explain…” You purse your lips, searching for an explanation or a way to articulate how you truly feel about it all.

“I kind of see what you’re getting at.” He bobs his head once more. “But to me, I don’t think loving someone is as hard as the world makes it seem.”

You cock a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You know, the whole I would do anything for this person and without them my life can’t go on.” He exhales, shaking his head displeasingly. “The way I see it, loving someone is pretty simple. You make them smile and care for them. You hold each other in your arms and become each other’s happiness.”

Your jaw drops in incredulity at his description. “Wow, you just managed to make romantic love… boring.”

He cackles, throwing his head back. “Hey, it’s not my intent to downplay what they show in the movies or write in books. But love is what you make of it, right?”

“You just contradicted your song.” You point out. “And what about the dark side? Like unfortunate diseases, cheating, unrequited love, and pairs who are star crossed?”

“Yeah, those factors would complicate things.” He furrows his brows. “But everyone loves the same way, even those who are star crossed. I say if two people grow apart, it’s fine to break up when that time comes. I think you’re getting believing in love and believing in forever mixed up. I don’t believe in love that lasts forever, but I do believe in the capacity to love another person.”

“Oh, I see. So you’re not as wacky as I thought.” You giggle, relieved your beliefs systems are not entirely clashing.

“I’m guessing you haven’t experienced what is defined as ‘love’, yet? Or at least your capacity to love someone hasn’t been tested?” You’re too busy to notice how red his face has become or the nerves sprinkled in his voice as he’s asking these next questions.

You sigh heavily. “Nope. I’m proud to say I have yet to fall head over heels for anyone.” You take another deep breath, reminded of what your parents have been urgently pushing you to do ever since you graduated college single. “Although, I’m not exactly sure if it’s something to be proud of.”

“Well, it’s definitely not something you can control.” His voice is more relaxed now.

“Have you?” You question, curiosity getting the better of you.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know…” The uncertainty in his voice is a strangely stark contrast to his usual confident tone. He slowly lifts his gaze to peek at you, making you wonder why he’s suddenly acting weird. He hastily clears his throat, averting his eyes.  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll write you a song about it.” He offers nonchalantly.

“Another song about love?” You cock a brow.

He exhales with a smirk of his own. “About the simple love I believe in.”

Jungkook doesn’t talk about love after that day, well at least not for the rest of the summer. You’re thankful the space between you is still contentedly amiable, but you find yourself wondering why you’re thinking about him so often.

Why you’re always waiting to see him each day, checking your phone for text messages and planning your outfits days in advance. You acknowledge the undeniable sensation of feeling more than at home when you’re walking alongside him as the two of you spend long afternoons chatting about the most random things and the maddening reluctance to leave him when the evening finally arrives. You don’t understand this new feeling, why you were suddenly giddy over the tinniest things that would conjure the thought of him or why every ordinary day had suddenly become something to look forward to. Was it new or had you been like this with other friends too?

Because even as your parents were suggesting you meet their friends son, on friendly terms and totally not for the purpose of setting you two up, the first person that pops into your head in none other than Jungkook. The thought of him always made you feel safe, and that was something you couldn’t say about anyone except him.

“Do you ever feel like you’re searching for something that doesn’t quite exist?” He’s looking at you as he voices the question, eyelids sleepy and wind tousling his soft bangs.

You continue to examine his lazy features, lips slightly parted as he waits. He’s mesmerizing, and despite thinking it’s just due to the fact that he possessed an objectively good-looking face, you have a hard time convincing that’s the only thing you’ve been spellbound by.

Observing that you haven’t replied, he continues. “I mean, you’ve felt like it doesn’t exist until you find it.” His gaze is now cast downward, and you think you can detect a slight flush in his cheeks.

“Actually, yeah.” You swallow. “Like something you can only sense in dreams.” You wish you’re somehow able to express your resonance with his inquiry better, but you were never good at conveying your deepest thoughts.

He nods, smiling faintly. “Or chasing after a place you know you’ll never reach, but doing it anyways because you know someone is waiting for you there.”

“Do you think that person would wait if they knew you’d never get there?” You can feel the weight of your query hang in the space between you.  

A silence lingers in the air, and you’re almost led to believe he’s fallen asleep because he’s still staring idly at the ground, breathing calmly and sitting so, so still.

“I know they would.” He finally exhales, glancing at you with an unreadable, yet reassuring expression.

You wonder why being with Jungkook feels so comfortable, why sharing a conversation with him is so pleasant and engaging. You’ve known him for less than three months, and it already feels like he’s been with you all your life. Or perhaps it’s the effect of you not remembering what life before you met him was like. Is this what people mean when they say your whole world changes when you develop feelings for someone?

No way. That’s some bullshit. You don’t actually believe falling in love would happen this easily. It’s just infatuation. You’ve heard about it, and you know it doesn’t last.

Sure you’re always thinking about him, but in your defense, he’s the only person you’ve been hanging out with recently, granted you still find it absurd that every little thing would suddenly remind you of him. It’s like he was filling every nook and cranny of your mind, making you question how you could be so childishly infatuated so quickly. And you’d expect this new development to annoy you at least somewhat, but no, it actually just makes your heart flutter whenever you see the image of his smiling face as you close your eyes, euphoria that ripples through your chest and saturates your body with warmth.

It’s definately infatuation. Nothing special.

But what is the difference between categorizing someone as a friend vs more than a friend?

You clearly still have no idea, and you also didn’t know you would find out soon enough.

…

Jungkook likes to keep the atmosphere light. Call it a personality trait or habit, but he enjoys jokes and tries to work around matters that would usher in concern, even when you can tell there’s clearly something important on his mind. Heavier topics are not usually brought up in your conversations, until the day he tells you he’s been offered a contract from a record company in the city.

“Congratulations.” You voice, not knowing why the news makes a knot form in the pit of your stomach. There’s one tightening in your throat as well.  

“Thank you…” He mumurs, still looking at you as if he can't quite read your reaction.

“You’re really going places now.” You force a smile, but a person would have to be desensitized to not be consciousness of the tension in your speech.

“Y/N” He cuts in, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I haven’t signed. I-I umm, wanted to ask for your opinion on it first.”

“Me? Why?” You laugh almost hysterically, and it’s so out of place that you yourself don’t even know where such a reaction came from. “It’s your dream. What does it have to do with me?” You were really taking your immaturity to new heights. Thinking back it’s embarrassing how you couldn’t control your emotions, how dumb you had acted at the time.

He doesn’t respond right away, looking down on the ground as he attempts to formulate a response. “So you’re ok with it?”

“Of course!” It’s a lie, but you’ve gone too far to turn back now. “My opinion shouldn’t matter anyways.”

“That sounds more like you’re not ok with it.” He murmurs barely audibly.

“We’re not tied to each other for an eternity. If we grow apart it’s ok, right?” You hate yourself for being so passive aggressive in that moment, how disgusting you feel for bringing the topic of breaking up into a conversation about the future and potentially going long distance. Why were you such a coward?

Jungkook only swallows and looks down at the ground. “Y-yeah, of course.” He mutters.

He doesn’t hold a grudge, and you persuade yourself that you don’t have to apologize even though you know you should. You reacted in the wrong way, and you almost wish Jungkook would hold you accountable for it. But he doesn't and it only makes you feel worse.

A couple days pass, and he doesn’t message you. Maybe for the purpose of giving you some space or maybe he was disappointed in the way you treated him, you don’t know. You feel awful, and you can’t even bring yourself to rationalize your actions because there was no justification for your harsh words. And you knew if you didn’t work this out, you’d regret it for the rest of your life.

“Jungkook?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day. It was completely uncalled for. I was being stupid and totally overreacting. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty or anything. I was just…. scared.”

He doesn’t say anything for a good two minutes, letting the sunlight grow and fade as clouds floated across the blue sky. The ocean breeze tickles your cheek, and you wonder what he’s thinking about for such a long time.

“Take my hand.” He finally says.

“Huh?” You look down at his hand, palm facing upward as he waits. “Y-you, I-I…”

He chuckles, reaching down and interlacing his fingers with yours as you were obviously too taken aback to react normally. His hand is so warm and strong. You can feel his heartbeat vibrating through his veins, the twitch of the tiny muscles in his digits, and again, you’re surrounded by that same kind of safety only he can provide.

“I finished the song.” He murmurs. “Would you like to hear it?”

You nod, still staring at him with a mildly shocked expression. Your gaze never leaves him as he sings, his voice so heavenly it’s impossible to describe with mere words or images alone. You’re looking at the sunset reflected in his eyes, the way the colors speak of the same promises his lyrics are conveying. It’s the first time you’ve looked inside someone else’s heart, and found that they’ve created a place for you there.  

“We don’t know what will happen to us later, but I like that the future isn’t decided.” He says as he stops singing and begins drawing swirls on the back of your hand. 

“Uhh, because it’s more interesting that way?” You’re really good at killing moods, but if you weren’t, you’d be tearing up at how full your chest feels in that moment with his hands still interconnected with yours. But in all honesty, you’re heart is still secretly crying at how his actions now and for the past few months have all spoken of one central message. The one he has just delivered as a song dedicated to you.  

He giggles. “Yeah, and it makes me feel like I have the power to choose.” He smiles blissfully at you; the universes in his eyes already stealing the show before the stars appear.

…

Long distance is just as hard as everyone makes it out to be. You miss him. You miss the blissful summer you spent with him, but you’re thankful for technology.

At least you can still hear his voice through the receiver, see his face on the screen, and message him as much as your heart desires. 

Still, you’ll never stop missing him.

It was fine at first, when he would call you with news of how well his debut album was doing, and you felt so proud watching him perform his songs live. But you couldn’t stop the insecurity that dating a rising celebrity would inevitably bring. What if he falls for another celebrity? What if he finally realizes he could have someone way hotter, more talented, and successful than you? Those were the questions you asked yourself every night, each time a dating rumor was published on news sites or when the growing number of fangirls would loom over you like inescapable shadows.  

But each time you drowned in doubt, he would remind you of his promise.

“Remember the song I wrote for you?” His voice is muffled through the receiver, but it relaxes you nonetheless.

“Ugh, how could I forget?” You roll your eyes despite knowing he can’t see anyways.

“The meaning will never not be true.”

“Why are you speaking in double negative?” You accuse, pretending to be annoyed.

He laughs, and you can see the way his face is probably scrunched up in your mind. “It will always hold true.”

You sigh, smiling down at the blanket covering your legs as you sit in bed, phone in ear. “Ok.”

“Ok?” He sounds astonished. “Have I actually converted you into a believer?” He’s referring to the idea of love, and the excitement in his voice is undeniable.

You roll your eyes again, hoping it’ll translate over in your voice. “Yes, I’ve been converted.”

No matter how hard you try, long distance is unrelenting.

It happens gradually, and perhaps that’s the scariest type of change. The kind that is undetectable, until it's too late. It’s like a break up that is planned, the whole “letting someone down easy so they don’t go crazy and hunt me down” sort of schema. You don’t find it difficult to convince yourself that Jungkook would never do that to you. He’s not that cruel, and he would never break a promise.  

Would he?

But then the calls become more and more spaced out, until they stop all together. He stops responding to your texts, and no matter how hard you try to persuade yourself that he’s just busy with promotions, you can’t help but feel that something is not right.

Despite knowing that being fueled by insecurity only comes off as desperate, you sum up the courage to pay him a surprise visit. A trip to the city in which you were searching for jobs in anyways. You could make it a chance for you to get a feel for the place and decide whether or not it was somewhere you could see yourself working and living in for the next few years, although, the fact that Jungkook was there had left no doubt in your mind that it was.

The train ride is long, but your eagerness overrides the suspicions that plague your mind. It’s going to be fine. He’ll be so happy to see you. It’s been over half a year.

“What are you doing here?”

The sharp voice throws daggers against your back.

“J-Jungkook, I-I…”

He walks past you and enters his apartment before you could explain. You had been waiting outside his door for over three hours. His schedule ran overtime.

“I’m sorry for showing up unannounced but I wanted you to be…umm pleasantly surprised.”

“Pleasantly?” His bitter response takes another jab at your heart.

“What’s wrong with you?” Your jaw tenses, finally letting the anger and hurt overtake you.

“What’s wrong with me? Absolutely nothing.” He scoffs. “I guess, I’ve just…”

“You’ve what?” You spit, unable to lower your raised voice.

“Moved on? I don’t know how else to phrase it.” He says, almost mockingly, not even trying to hide the fact that he was purposefully trying to hurt you. “I tried to let you down easy, but you just couldn’t pick up on the hints now could you?”

“Are you fucking serious right now? Is this you breaking up with me?”

“Is it not obvious?” His jaw twitches from his clenched teeth.

You can’t believe what you are hearing, praying that your ears are deceiving you but also wishing you didn’t feel so stupid for not reading the signs sooner. “So we’re over? This is it?” You fight back the tears that would only make you look more pathetic. “You don’t even remember what you said to me do you?” You didn’t mean to bring up something so foolishly trivial at this point, but you can see his body tense at your words.

“Remember what?” He voices lowly, avoiding direct eye contact, lines on his forehead growing deeper as he searches for the answer.

You scoff and sniffle, tears finally rolling down your cheeks. “I can’t believe you’re acting like you don’t know. Wow, I really was an idiot to trust you.”

And then you’re rushing out the door, ignoring the rain that has started to fall as his calls for you to stop. Lightning flashes across the sky and thunder crackles loudly in the distance, but nothing could stop you from getting out of there. The anger and pain was drowning out his desperate cries for you to stop running.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

You continue to sprint as fast as your legs can carry you. You knew that you probably won’t be able to outrun him anyways, but you pray that he’ll give up and just let you be. Why would he put in the effort to care anyways? What you’ve done was already embarrassing enough. You didn’t need him to kick away the rest of your remaining dignity, however nonexistent it was at the present.

“Y/N, stop!”

He reached out and grabs you by the wrist, pulling you around to face him, his wet bangs completely covering his eyes. Your own vision is blurred by the rainwater, increasingly obscure as the pellets pour down harder.

“What are you doing? Let go of me!” You scream, attempting to rip your arm out of his clasp, but he doesn’t budge.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He pulls you closer to him.

“What? Break up with me?” You scoff again, turning your head away. “I’m pretty sure you made it quite clear.” You feel his grip loosen around your wrist, and that’s when you turn back to a scene that shatters your heart.

He begins to cry. And you’ve never seen him cry. Not that crying was a strange occurrence or an inappropriate reaction in a situation like this, but the way he completely broke down, tears mixing with rainwater to the point where you can’t tell if just raining that hard or due to how long his grief in the form of tears has been accumulating, was painful to witness. Your chest constricts sharply at the sound of his agonizing sobs, the way he drops to his knees and covers his face with his hands, kneeling in front of you in the middle of the street, so small and powerless.

You’re confused. 

You don’t know why, and you most certainly do not understand what he’s trying to do, but there’s not a single cell in your body that has the strength to walk away from him like this, so you make your way over to him slowly, waiting for him to realize you’re giving him a chance to explain. The moment he feels your hand on his shoulder, he opens his arms and hugs your waist tightly, afraid that you’ll leave or disappear if he isn’t quick enough.

“I’m sorry” He cries, body still shuddering from his sobs.

And that’s when you learn why he doesn’t remember.

…

The events that happen afterwards are stored as a fuzzy memory somewhere deep in your recollection of the time you spent with him.

Jungkook.

The boy you made fun of for believing in love. Only playfully though because he spend long nights conversing with you under the moonlight and he allowed you to see countless sunsets reflected in his eyes. And joke’s on you because you fell in love with him.

Jungkook.

The boy who wrote a song for you because he placed you in the center of his heart. And maybe the greatest thing that came out of his effort to make you believe in the kind of love he grew fond of in his days listening to music and writing songs by the sea, is that you are now here to remind him even on the day he doesn’t anymore.

Jungkook.

The boy who has a rare genetic disorder that results in premature dementia.

The signs started showing up not long after the release of his first album. And maybe if you were more observant during all the days you spent texting with him back and forth or the late night video calls snuck in during his busy schedule, you would’ve suspected there was something abnormal about his growing forgetfulness. You had suspected it was from the stress of promotions and recordings, but of course, fate isn’t always that generous.

“W-was it difficult to love me?” His voice is meek and grief-stricken, finishing off with a noticeable tremble. You notice the tears welling up in his eyes for the first time as the scene before you makes your chest cry out in pain.

You shake your head frantically, unable to believe he’s assumed you ever had to force yourself to love him and unable to comprehend what it even means to find it difficult to love someone like him: the boy who holds entire galaxies in his eyes alone, the boy who embroidered the vast expanse of your sky with colors you had never even known existed until he showed them to you, the boy the ocean promised would light up your life when you met him- and he did. 

Loving him was the easiest thing you’ve ever done, and there’s not a single day that goes by where you’ve ever come close to regretting falling for him. The inability to grasp how such a question could even manifest in his mind makes you freeze in place, searching for the right words to make up for not showing him how much he’s meant to you or how little you had to try to embrace him tightly in your arms because your heart had long chosen its owner.  

“I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I tried.” You whisper, cupping his cheek in your hand as you kneel at his bedside.

Your words are the final blow that makes him break down. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I know I said when a time like comes, it’s ok to break up...b- but, but I don’t want to forget. I-I don’t want-” He shakes his head as tears ceaselessly stream down his face.

“Shhh, it’s ok.” You use the pad of your thumb to wipe some of the salty liquid away, but it’s no use because he’s still crying. “I’m not letting go of your hand.”

“No, you have to.” He cries. “I’ll only hurt you when I can’t remember. You have to leave me. You can’t-”

“Jungkook” You interrupt. “Whether you want it or not, I’m going to hold on to you.”

You end up holding him on his hospital bed for the rest of the afternoon, patting his back gently as he cries into the crook of your neck.

“God, I shouldn’t have written you that song.” He chuckles in between waning sniffles, dabbing the used, crumpled tissue against his already swollen nose.

“I’m thankful you did, because it’s still my favorite.” You smile, tracing circles along the back of his hand.

“I can’t believe you just watched me cry like a baby for the last three hours. I wouldn’t blame you if you decide to leave me now.” Though he intends for it to be a joke, you stiffen slightly.

“Jungkook, please, never tell me to leave you.” You concentrate on him pleadingly.

He sighs. “I don’t want to hurt you when I lose the ability to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

“I don’t care.” You voice. “You can’t force me to not love you.”

“I know.” He exhales defeated by your stubbornness. “I just wish it was me and not you.”

“Don’t say that. It hurts just as much.”

He nods regretfully. “I’m sorry.”

Days pass intermittently, with winter ending at the arrival of Spring. You didn’t know how rapidly his disease would overtake him, optimistically hoping it would progress by the year rather than the week. As much as you didn’t want to acknowledge his fading memories, it’s impossible to ignore when it began to affect his ability to perform daily tasks.

You had always expected that real love would be just as painful as it is euphoric. 

Maybe that is precisely what you were afraid of believing in it.

“It’s getting worse.” He murmurs, staring at the lively sea, winds stronger today as they pick up the waves.

“Don’t feel bad about it.” You squeeze his hand tightly in your own.

“But when the day comes that I don’t remember to love you, just know that I still do. I always, always will.”

“And I’ll always be waiting for you.” You whisper. 

“The me that remembers will be sure to come and meet you.” He swears it by the stars in his eyes, the ones that you know will shine forever. 

His words make you smile and lean into his chest, firm but soft just like the first time you fell into his arms. Perhaps you knew all along that it was him. That you didn’t want to believe he existed because loving him makes you vulnerable, that the euphoric bliss that comes with love is a tradeoff for something darker, something more painful. But would you change things if you knew that this would be the outcome? No, you’ve come far enough to know you wouldn’t.  

“Don’t worry.” You breathe out just a wave of the ocean crashes against the cliffside. “I’ll remind you of all the things you’ve known and all the things you’ve forgotten. I’ll bring us back here, and I’ll play our song. And when the day comes that I start to forget, we’ll lay here in the rain, in the dark, in each other’s arms.”

…

You probably remember that song now.

The one that you’ll still listen to because it reminds you of that boy. The one that is kept safely tucked deep within your heart for the rest of your days.

The song that will forever be a message from the boy who loves you.

...

[sugaurora]

BTS Writing Contest - NEABL

This contest is closed. Winners Announcement

First Place

Your Choice ‘Love Yourself 轉 Tear’ Y, O, U, or R version +  2017 BTS Live Trilogy Episode III: The Wings Tour Concert DVD

Second Place

2017 BTS Live Trilogy Episode III: The Wings Tour Concert DVD

Third Place

Your Choice ‘Love Yourself 轉 Tear’ Y, O, U, or R version

➤ The contest ends at 11:59 CST on June 15th, 2018

➤ Winners will be announced and notified on June 22nd, 2018

➤ Write a BTS fanfiction between 1 to 10,000 words

chaptered fics are allowed, however judges will only read the first 10,000 words of the series

➤ The contest theme is a dark side of love

you are free to interpret ‘a dark side of love’ positively, negatively, both, or in whatever way you choose

you are welcome to show any type of love such as intimate relationships, familial, friendship, etc

➤ Any genre, pairing, and AU are allowed

member x reader, member x member, member x oc, or no pairing at all are all allowed

➤ Any number of BTS members are allowed

➤ Stories you have previously written are allowed

➤ All shipping is at my expense and I will ship internationally

➤ Tag your entry btsneabl or send me an ask/message with a story link

i will message you to confirm your entry

➤ Reblog this post

➤ Nominations are also accepted

i will contact the writer for permission

➤ Only one entry will be accepted per writer

➤ You (or the writer you nominate) must reblog this post

➤ You must be 18+ or have your parent’s permission to share your address

➤ Winners will have 48 hours to respond or another winner will be chosen

➤ Follows are appreciated, but absolutely not required

i don’t run these contests to gain followers, but to encourage the BTS fanfiction writing community and writers in general to flex their skills

➤ No giveaway blogs

➤ Your ask/message box must be open so I can communicate with you

➤ The winners must post confirmation of receiving their prize on their tumblr

this will help me out for future contests 

As always, feel free to ask me any questions. I wish everyone good luck and I’m excited to read your interpretations of love and its various shades of darkness!

Previous Contest: Bangtan Winter Wonderland ‘17

[yoongspd]

Pillowtalk; knj

Genre: friends with benefits au, angst

Word Count:3k words

Warnings: implied sex

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Author’s Note: Hi, Tabitha @ga1axydefender! Thank you for helping me improve my work. I’d realized the dull spots of this fic through your comments. Also, credits to @pjmnnie for the raw image of this header.

If you think it’s good or bad, I’d appreciate if you tell me as I’m quite new to writing Creative Fiction. Enjoy!

___________

“Uhh, Joon?”

“Hmm?” he mumbles, slightly-built arms still wrapped around you.

You bite your lower lip out of habit. It was either you piecing your thoughts together or you trying to find the courage to utter your words. “Can I crash on your sofa? I don’t want to walk home alone tonight.”

“Goodness, ____!” He chuckles as he turns and leans on his side to face you. “News flash, ____, we just had sex. What’s wrong with you staying over? Especially on my bed where, well, we’ve fucked? Quit your couch bullshit. You’re always welcome here, sex or none.” His eyes are fixed on you. His mind flashes him a supercut of yours and his casual trysts together over the past weeks, but his lust-strained thoughts are overpowered by a curious amusement of your mind’s workings.

You cover your face with your left hand, obviously uncomfortable with the situation. You hated what this all implied. “God, this will sound pathetic and paranoid,” you mumble with a certain hint of annoyance.

Namjoon snickers. “I’ve known you for some time, I wouldn’t be surprised anymore. Well, because you kind of are paranoid.” This earns him your infamous death glare.

“Ugh, nevermind. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Shut up. I’m sure you do. Go hand me a serving of your daily introspection.” He says all this with genuine encouragement. He shifts on the bed once again to make himself more comfortable.

Despite your annoyance, you fight off the small smile trying to tug at your lips. He noticed. And he was right. You liked talking. Not to everyone, that is, but Namjoon became one of the few exceptions. He listened, and he always made it seem like he wanted to hear everything you had to say.

You exhale a shaky breath. “This. Our arrangement, I mean,” You pause to lower your gaze from his pale ceiling to his eyes. You are quick to hide the sudden halt in your chest as you see him engrossed. Cliché enough, you felt as if your lungs were gripped on a chokehold. The atmosphere was in a tight pause for a few seconds. He was paying attention.

You remind yourself that this was Namjoon, he was a good person – scratch that, he was better than majority of the human species – he is always like this. “I know this trope from movies and fiction. We’re obviously friends with benefits, fuck buddies, whatever you call it. And we both know this is platonic,” you ease into the context of what you plan to say.

He interjects, “So? What’s your point?”

You take a deep breath and say in one go, “I hope I don’t scare you away, but like there’s this thing where somehow this sort of thing would lead us towards feelings because of like couple-y gestures. Sorry, I mean, like acts beyond the fucking. For example, sleeping over and… your arms around me.” However, Namjoon seems to have his mind elsewhere now.

“I fucking doubt we’d become that, but I’d like to avoid all possible hazards,” you wrap up, but your words weaken their resolve with every uttered word.

“I get what you mean. I can stay on the couch if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, no. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to put you in much trouble. So sorry. Uhh, is it fine if I sleep here beside you then?” You fidget with your hands, avoiding looking at Namjoon directly. “Of course.” Remembering what you’d said earlier, Namjoon releases his arms draped around you much to his regret. But as he sees you loosen up, he kicks at his previous thoughts and longing of having you in his arms. Platonically, of course.

He lies on his back again, staring at the ceiling like you were. It seems the temptation of sleep has abandoned the both of you.

Namjoon gathers the courage to ask, “Why do you say sorry too much?”

The sudden invitation to converse doesn’t surprise you. Namjoon liked to speak of the stars, philosophy, and whatever an aesthetic angsty romance blog dreamt of.

Yours and Namjoon’s eyes solely wander the ceiling, but you talk, “Good question. But do you really want me to start a sob story right now?”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well, I’ve actually had some introspection regarding this.”

“Of course you have.”

You snicker at his comment. “You know me so well.” And you send him a huge grin, because well, you love talking about yourself, and he seems to love listening to you. “Uhm, okay. So I think I say sorry a lot because I know I only have myself to blame every time.”

“That’s ridiculous,” despite the interjection, you hear the smile in his voice.

“Maybe for you, but… I guess, this is negatively Nihilistic, all things happening to me are consequences of what I have done,” you defend.

Your words trouble him. To him, it seems you are carrying the weight of the world if you think like this. Now, he sees where your apparent self-hatred sourced its fuel. “Not always. You didn’t choose to be here.”

“Well, not at the start. But there’s always something I can do about things. Had I really not wanted to exist, I’d have killed myself. However, as much as this life is a tragedy, things aren’t always bad.”

“You know what?” You prompt.

You don’t get an answer from him. Nonetheless, you continue, “Whenever I failed something, you know –not do what my mom wants me to have done, she’d find the fault in me. And maybe that was a bit too harsh, but it was logical. I guess there’s always something I could’ve done whenever things went wrong.”

He quotes, “When you’re the leader, everything’s your fault.’ That’s from A Bug’s Life. If everyone thought like that, there wouldn’t be wars.”

“Thanks.”

“But ____, not everything is your fault,” He repeats.

“I know, but I think bad things don’t happen to people if they are cautious enough.”

A brief pause hangs in the air. But you surprisingly don’t feel uncomfortable.

“So when I stood you up at that ball when we were fourteen, did you blame yourself?” He tries to argue. But he also wanted to indulge in your thoughts about him.

“Partly. Had I been prettier or more interesting, maybe—“ “No! No! You’ve got it all wrong. Nobody deserves to be treated the way I did you!”

“You were also fourteen, Namjoon. And you were an immature dimwit. Really, if you’d liked me, you would’ve gone with me rather than pick up another girl when we already had plans.”

“I. was. the. asshole. Okay?”

“I didn’t say you weren’t. But face it, these things do not happen to pretty people.”

He punches himself mentally for he was already void of a response. “I’m sorry.”

“Too late. It haunted my self-esteem for the entirety of my adolescence.” You laugh, and he only cringes. It was a total dick move.

“Would you have said yes if I asked you to be my girlfriend back then?” He wonders.

“You never would have. But you know the answer to that if you had asked that girl I killed. Now, good night, Namjoon. Thanks for letting me stay in your bed. Shut up already.”

“Good night, ____.” There was a slight ache in his chest. He knew you liked him so much when you were younger and immature. Would you have been childhood sweethearts if he had kept his promise that night? Maybe, if he weren’t an asshole. You weren’t on the boys’ stupid date list. You kept to your circle of friends and didn’t initiate conversation outside of it. Nevertheless, you caught Namjoon’s eye. Quite a looker, if you look closely. He noted in his head before. Namjoon frowned.

But had you two been together back then, he doubted it would last. Then you wouldn’t speak to him ever again and wouldn’t have what you two had today. He falls asleep contented with his reasoning. He liked this, what you two have now.

–

“Why doesn’t she like me back?” He voices faintly. His words mimic a whisper, but you hear them as they are one of the few things that maintain a presence of life in his room. You are both staring at his ceiling again.

You know he is talking about Carmen from one of his Engineering classes. The kind of girl that never gets caught in trouble. Partly because she would hardly risk herself in those, and partly because she was still careful when she got into them. She was kind, smart and pretty. Average. But the only interaction you’ve ever had with her were your eyes meeting at the corridors, so you couldn’t tell.

“Tell me what she’s like,” You ask instead.

“She never fails to make me laugh. She’s really witty. And— And she has dreams. Like, real dreams and goals for her future.” You can tell he was carefully choosing his words, but despite that, it was clear for you that Namjoon was whipped.

“Wait. How would you know she doesn’t like you?”

He hesitates. “I told her two days ago.”

You laugh at that, “Goodness, Joon, you’re such a sap!”

“And she told me she could never feel the same.” The embarrassment creeps up on him. He felt so mushy sharing a heartache with you. Now, you’re the one embarrassed.

“Okay. That’s it. Goodnight, _____.”

“You can’t escape from me, Joon,” You tease. “What are you, twelve? Confessing feelings and shit like that?”

“This is why I should’ve never told you,” He groans.

“Sorry, Namnam. But, honestly, I can’t see why she doesn’t. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” You turn to face him, offering a kind smile.

He shifts too, the both of you now facing each other. The close proximity charges you with a static you choose to ignore. This was Namjoon.

“So, you’re saying you’re lucky to have me?” He grins.

“It’s an honor,” you jokingly correct, “But I’m only saying that because baby Joon had his heart broken.”

“Nah, you can’t take that back anymore. It’s an honor for me too.” His smile never leaves him. Then, without much thinking, he kisses your cheek for extra assurance.

The move surprises you, and you want to punch yourself in the gut for feeling something you can’t quite identify.

–

“You keep on hating society and its structures, but we make up society, Joon.” You say after you’ve tucked yourself beneath his sheets. Sleeping over after cleaning yourself off had become a shared habit for you and Namjoon. And the pillowtalk was a necessary bonus.

“Yet you still follow the structures as if you don’t have a choice.” He debates.

You glare at him. He was right, but it took him so much ease to judge– as if he already knows all of you. You sigh. “I don’t have the luxury to deviate, you know that.”

“And I do?” He points, quite dumbly in your opinion.

“Haha. I’m not going to stroke your ego.”

“Really, tell me.” He says with a grin stretching across his face, eyes encouragingly squinting from his smile.

“You got that merit scholarship without reviewing for the CETs, right?”

He nods cautiously. He knew this was going to be thrown against him.

“Well, I studied so so hard for that same scholarship. But I received one for financial need rather than intellectual prowess.”

“Hey, hey, that doesn’t invalidate your intelligence.”

“Maybe. But my point here is you don’t have to make much of an effort anymore. You’re literally a genius. So please don’t hate on me when I say you have it easier. Me? I have everything at stake.”

Another pang of ache in his chest. His ego, maybe. “Only in the case of academics. Life is difficult for me too.”

“Maybe.” You respond, though unconvinced.

He nudges your shoulder after absorbing what you replied. “Now you’re invalidating my pain.”

“Yes. I’m aware I’m an insensitive bitch.”

“Why did you want that scholarship so bad? Most of who we know stayed.”

You take a while to respond. This… was personal.

“I wanted to get away. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family. But often I couldn’t bear living with them. It’s difficult to explain.”

“Once again, do tell me. If you feel like it of course.”

You exhale a bit.

“Well, my mother always made me pretend I was bubbly and an overachiever and that this family was picture perfect when we all knew it was fucking dysfunctional. It was fucking exhausting. She even lies about my achievements. No, she didn’t exaggerate. She lied. She’d say I’d competed in a Math Olympiad in High School. You know I didn’t. And I had to live up to that lie and when I reflected on that, I guessed who I am and was is someone my mother isn’t proud of. Imagine feeling not enough as a child. Then she asks me why I “act” all depressed.”

“I thought she loved you.”

“She does. I think she does. On some days, she supports me. But most of the time, she asks, why didn’t you get that? Like the Merit Scholarship, for example. All my achievements are nothing because they aren’t the best.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Nobody does.”

“You never shared.” He quickly interjects.

“Nobody asked.”

“We were always willing to listen.”

“Namjoon, If I don’t have my family, who do I have?”

You are surprised to feel his hand over yours. You are both connected once again in his bed, but this time it was different. As the warmth of his hand seeps through your skin, you tense up in alarm. This was against the rules.

“The answer is nobody, Namjoon.” You lightly chew on your bottom lip. Regardless of your words, you don’t exert effort to remove your hand under his. His grip only tightens on yours.

“I’m here for you, alright.”

“You don’t know that.” You finally remove your hand from his, and proceed to lift yourself off of his bed to dress up. “I can’t stay the night,” you explain.

“It’s late, I’ll walk you home.”

You don’t refuse, there was no way to change his mind.

–

The both of you pause to look at the river. Calm and serene, wrapped under the subtle radiance of the dawn’s moon. Unknowingly, you and Namjoon share the exact same comfort the river offers.

Staring straight ahead, he says, “____, I need to tell you something.”

Not looking at each other has become a habit. You don’t give him an answer, and only continue to stare at the river. However, you feel him take a long look at you, and you remind yourself that this was Namjoon.

“_____, I think I like you. Beyond friends. I like you beyond what we have right now.”

His words register and you feel as if something has lodged itself in your throat. “Are you messing with me?” You finally croak out, you have decided all of it was bullshit.

“Why would you think that? Of course I’m not.”

“Okay. You’re just saying this because you’re trying to move on from Carmen,” the panic evident in your voice.

He groans at your reply. “I’m not, okay. Seriously.”

All of it still sounds surreal to you. This was Namjoon, and he never before liked you back when you did, back when you still felt. This was Namjoon and if he did have feelings, they should be reserved for people who were still whole.

“I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” you frantically piece together, “If you need a casual fuck, you know I can offer you that.”

“Listen,” He grips your arm. You freeze in response, completely taken aback. “I’ve been starting to long for our conversations more than whatever happens before those. And Carmen was almost a month ago, _____. I like you. It’s that simple.”

His grip on you finally loosens and the silence that remains decides to engulf the both of you. Your mind files all his recent words under the same folder labelled bullshit. Namjoon would never lie, but sometimes he could have errors in judgment. You walk ahead, and he only looks at your frame trying to understand what was going on in your head before he finally matches up with your strides.

–

Before you close the door between the two of you, you extend your “good night” and “thank you”s through, “If what you were saying was not made up fiction, you had easily moved on from Carmen after a month. I can’t be any different.”

Before he can retort, you tersely cut him off, “It’s not simple. And you don’t know that.” You shut your door.

After minutes of the guilt and self-hatred gnawing at you, dreamless sleep finally overcomes you.

Namjoon only picks up on what you meant as he meets the river on his way back. Momentary anger looms over him and he kicks a stray rock into the waters.

–

Kim Namjoon: I’ll stop disturbing you now. Please, let’s talk.

You: 4pm. cafe near east wing.

When he receives your reply, he doesn’t feel the relief he was hoping for. He was muddled again. You had ghosted him for a week after that night he walked you home. And he thought you two were friends already. You’d already known him so well. Even on things he never said out loud.

Frustration is evident on his face when you take the seat across his.

“You know what I think?” He didn’t even bother with a greeting.

You look at him sullenly, you don’t have to put yourself in pain by giving him answers.

“You stick to this notion that if someone actually loves you, they should be sure of it the instant they say it. That they should be absolutely fucking sure that you are all they want. No baggages left. And unless that’s what’s happening, they don’t love you at all. Well, truth is, you are so fucking difficult to love, __!”

Tears spill angrily from your eyes. You weren’t one to cry in front of others, you were always the tough one, always resolute on what you believed in. But this time, he was right. Bull’s Eye. He had laid it in front of you. One of the nightmares which had always haunted you: nobody will ever love you.

“Yeah, well fuck the idea that there actually is somebody out there who is meant to love you. That we were all born in pairs. That’s just another bedtime story mommy told you to rid your mind off the monsters under your bed. Fact is, love isn’t for everyone. I thought you –of all people, what with your screw society’s expectations maxim—would fucking know that! I don’t need a goddamned pep talk on: oh, Susan you are not worthy of love. Because. I. Of all people. Fucking. Know.”

He closes his eyes in frustration. Inhales a deep breath to calm his thoughts. And he meets your eyes again, yours always seemingly unfazed from criticism—always stoic. “You’re wrong,” he finally says.

“And I’m staying to have this forsaken conversation with you. That’s the only wrong thing I said because I am leaving,” you say as you wipe off your tears and put down the money to pitch in for what you ordered earlier.

He sighs again. Repeating the same short ritual of getting his aggravated thoughts in place. And before you push back your seat to cue another unsaid good bye, he once again speaks up. All this, he’s said with eyes downcast.

“You’re wrong because, yes you are such a pain in the ass, but that doesn’t fucking stop me from feeling this way. No, not just feel. I’d fucking choose you today over any perfectly binded fairytale, over and over again, ____.”

You were already halfway towards the café’s exit. But with what he’s said, your feet remain frozen on the floor. You look at his slumped figure, and everything inside you is drowning into a riot. You’ve been through this before. For most parts of you, this was bullshit. Wordlessly, you head quickly to make the leave you promised.

When your room’s door behind you shuts, hot tears silently rage down your face. You’ve never forgotten how it felt when that clenching heaviness tore away on the edges of the void, the center of your chest. But now that you feel it again, the sobs escape louder this time.

You hold a hand over your mouth, struggling to breathe properly. This and the void were all that you knew. You hunch over yourself, and bask in self-hatred. Why were you crafted this way? Why can’t you just love and be loved like others do?

–

Four days after, and your scent still lightly clutched on Namjoon’s unwashed sheets. Its lingering presence serving as a vague reminder of one of his favorite things in the world—his face between your legs. Unintentionally, every breath he takes under his blankets as he lulls himself to sleep only reminds him of what wasn’t there anymore. And as he recognizes you at the seams of his consciousness, he couldn’t help but loathe the world even more.

You didn’t have a clue on what he was going through. Well, maybe you did, but you had invalidated all he felt –all he feels—right in front of his face without even uttering a single word.

That was Namjoon’s truth: maybe he loves you. Because he liked how your mind works. He wanted to hear about your everydays. He wanted to learn the bits of you he couldn’t reach. The sides of you you had closed off. But it wasn’t just about you, for you had listened to him and had understood. You also made him question where he stood, and affirmed him when he’d been too confused. You’d made him feel comfortable around you. He was most of himself. And he’d felt that you liked him most as he was himself, too. Wasn’t this what it felt like to be loved? Now, it was only the end of what could have begun.

Three knocks on his door bolts him up from his thoughts.

It looked like a storm had hit him. Heck, he seemed to be brewing the storm itself for the past eleven days. And so far, he had no plans of rehabilitating. It wasn’t too obvious, but behind his eyeglasses and face mask were bloodshot eyes and a neglected skin routine.

“You look… great,” were his first words.

You were there, and you looked just the same. The same probably unbrushed hair, your mild milky soap scent, usual sneakers, a sweater he already knows, jeans he had preferred off you and actually slid them off of you several times. You were the same, as if it were just another of those casual visits you always made. You were the same, and he had slowly deteriorated as he had spent his time staring at the jagged pieces of himself.

You finally muster the courage to speak. “I don’t want you to stop disturbing me.”

He is now the one without the words. What you said hardly made sense in his head. This was not part of the pattern.

You continue, “I’m still the same, and I don’t want any fixing. But if you want to, maybe we can talk properly this time.”

“Then, come in,” were his second.

[restlessmaknae]

The night of fears

A certain demon is searching for souls on 31st October, hoping that he can collect 31 by the end of the day. Needless to say, it’s not safe to walk in a graveyard at this time of the year.

Pairing: Park Jimin x Nam Suyeon (OC)

Genre: angst, horror, supernatural

Setting: Barbas!AU (the demon of fear based on the one in Charmed)

Word count: 3731

Warning: major character death, cutting, blood, emotional manipulation

This is my contribution to the Stories no one dares to tell Halloween collab, check out the other works as well. *-*

It was a raw night. Fog rolled over the city. The graves were brilliantly lit by the full moon.

Suyeon was standing still by the one in front of her, the chilly air freezing her to the bones. She knew that it wasn’t a sensible idea to visit the grave of her dead friend – Lee Taemin − at this time of the night – especially not in this weather − but it was the anniversary of her friend’s death.

She was shaking like fallen leaves. The air was getting heavier and heavier, she felt as if it became more and more suffocating. Birds stopped chirping a long time ago and even night animals kept quiet. The whole graveyard was still except from the wind that was howling. Howling and howling without halt. It sounded like a warning. Like something was about to happen very soon. Something unexpected. Something dangerous. Something bad.

Suyeon shivered at the thought of something happening to her under the current circumstances. Unbeknownst to her, the worst was yet to come.

There was a sudden sound coming from behind her. Leaves were cracked under someone’s feet. She turned around to see who it was. There was no one there. She scanned through the area with the help of her torch but nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only the wind howling.

However, when Suyeon turned back to the grave, there was someone sitting on it.

As soon as she looked at him, she let out a scream and dropped the torch in fear. As a result, there was no light until she picked it up and pointed at the stranger.

There was an ivory faced, silver haired man looking back at her. He had eyes like black holes, so dark and mysterious. He was sickeningly pale, paler than anyone she had ever seen. He looked oddly old yet young at the same time. He looked inhumane. There was something about him that scared her. Her stomach churned with worry.

“Oh my god, you scared me!” Her hand flew to her mouth as she took in the man’s appearance.

If she wanted to compare him to something, she would say he looked like a skeleton. His bones were slightly sticking out, his jawline sharp like a knife and his eyes bitter like badly roasted coffee. There was something very off about him but Suyeon couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“Well, that was my intention, young lady.” His voice came out hoarse and confident. There was a creepy edge to his tone. She shivered.

“Who are you?” The question left a peculiar aftertaste in her mouth. She wasn’t even sure she was the one who said those words out loud. She felt so distant and lost. She was so scared that she started to question whether she imagined the creature or he was actually there. “Why are you crouching on my friend’s grave?” She raised her eyebrows in question.

Even though her hands were shaking, she managed the sentence out. Why would anyone want to crouch on someone else’s grave? Wasn’t it considered rude? To step on the dead? Who was he that he didn’t feel the need to get down?

The stranger’s answer surprised her more than she would like to admit.

“I’m here because you are here.” He elevated an eyebrow, clearly amused by the expression on Suyeon’s face.

She started to feel nauseous due to the the ridiculousness of the whole situation. She was almost sure at this point that she was imagining things. Or the stranger was a crazy psychopath who found joy in messing with others and saying things like that. She didn’t know which one was worse.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, her voice shaking.

The man couldn’t help but boast a smile. His lips slowly – extremely slowly – raised into a smug smirk, one that was wicked and terrifying. It was nowhere near sane, nor reassuring.

“Fear is always with you. You just can’t see it sometimes.”

“Okay.” She sucked in a deep breath as she made an attempt to tangle her unwanted thoughts.

Not only the man’s appearance was creepy but what he said was also eerie. She felt the blood pumping in her veins and heard her erratic heartbeat as clearly as never before; as if it was coming from her headphones. Her legs weakened and her stomach churned with a strange, unknown feeling.

She was on the verge of fainting while the graveyard was still quiet. Only the wind was howling.

“I’m probably going crazy and imagining things. It’s only a dream. To be precise, a nightmare. I’m going to wake up soon. You are not real. You are not here.” Suyeon tried to reassure herself, paying extra attention to her breathing.

When she turned to face the old man, she came face-to-face with his wicked grin.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He rose from his crouching position and walked up to her. He stopped a step away from her. That smile that could chill her to the bones didn’t leave his face for a second.

“The question is… why would it bother you if you were going crazy?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice deep and laced with utter curiosity. The kind of curiosity that killed those cats.

She couldn’t speak at first. Maybe it was because she was dreaming but she couldn’t really think straight. Her brain was foggy. Her vision was blurry. Her heart was heavy.

“I can’t go crazy. I-I have a life to live.” She stuttered nervously. Then, a sudden jolt of confidence rushed through her out of nowhere and prompted her to continue talking. “I have loving friends, a supportive family and an amazing boyfriend. I can’t let them see me losing my mind.”

“Why?” The old man interrupted him with another one of his trademark grins. “Is it because you are afraid they wouldn’t love you anymore? They would leave you instead? Are you afraid of being lonely? Being abandoned, casted out and ridiculed? Are you afraid of being pitied?”

“I-I actually…” Her jaw hung open. She didn’t know what to say. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Because they would, you know. It’s only the beginning. You start seeing things, hearing things and soon you won’t be able to tell what is real and what is not. The only way to tell the difference is by pain because pain is real but only in real life.” The stranger boasted a smug smile and watched her reaction with amused eyes.

Suyeon, on the other hand, felt dizzy. The world around her turned upside down. As the old man said those words out loud, it was as if her hidden fears finally came to light. Those were her exact same doubts and anxieties. She had no idea how he could know so much about her. Who was he anyway?

Just a creature of your imagination, she said to herself but even she doubted her own words.

“I’m not going crazy. I’m not going crazy.” She kept repeating the words as a mantra, hoping that the old man would suddenly disappear or that she would wake up from this bloody nightmare. She would then get out of her bed, make herself a cup of tea and everything would be alright. Maybe Jimin − her lovely boyfriend − would even sing her a lullaby to help her go back to sleep. Everything would be alright and she would only laugh at this absurd dream of hers.

“Then how could I be right here now and disappear in the next second?” The creepy figure elevated one of his eyebrows and disappeared into thin air just like he had said a second ago. What was left of him was the mingled memory in her head and the sound of the howling wind.

 The graveyard was silent for a moment.

Suyeon was left speechless after the old man’s disappearance. Only her heart was playing an insanely fast-paced symphony assisted by the howling wind.

Suddenly, she heard noises from behind. Someone was slowly approaching her and by the time she turned to look for the source of the sound, it was already right in front of her.

To be precise, he was already right in front of her. For a moment she thought that the stranger came back but the sudden visitor turned out to be her boyfriend, Park Jimin.

“For God’s sake Jimin!” Suyeon shrieked and almost dropped her torch again. It wouldn’t be a good idea though since Jimin didn’t have one, so her torch was the only source of light in the darkness.

“What are you doing here?” She eyed her boyfriend who looked like he had just ran a marathon as he was trying to catch his breath. Drops of sweat spilled down his face, destroying the flawless picture of his pale and perfect skin. His small, chestnut-brown eyes were filled with questions instead of the usual fondness.

“You’ve called me.” He narrowed his eyebrows like he wasn’t sure why she asked this obvious question.

“What?” The petite girl exclaimed rather indignantly. The old man’s case was weird enough, she didn’t need more drama in her life. “No! I didn’t call you.” She corrected him but he was just as adamant as Suyeon.

“You did.”

“I didn’t.” Her voice rose higher as she couldn’t handle being called a liar. She wanted to prove her boyfriend that she was telling the truth, so she fished out her phone from her pocket. “I can show you.” She looked for her recent calls’ list and thrust her phone under his nose.

“I can’t believe it.” Jimin muttered under his breath, his mouth slightly agape.

Due to the fact that she was right, Suyeon wanted to puff her chest out in pride but as soon as Jimin emulated her and showed his received calls’ list, she felt a lump forming in her throat.

Her name was there. It was on his received calls’ list. According to the device, she should have called him 5 minutes ago. When she was talking to that old man.

Needless to say, she didn’t call him. Not even according to her phone. How was that possible? Was she imagining Jimin like she was imagining that bony figure minutes ago? Was she dreaming? Losing her mind? God, the creepy atmosphere must have gotten to here.

Without warning, a terrifying scream filled the air.

It was her scream.

Suyeon didn’t even believe she could let out such a horrifying, nerve-wrecking scream. It felt unfamiliar to her like it wasn’t even her voice.

“Jesus!” She gasped in shock as she caught sight of the object in Jimin’s hands. His delicate, warm hands that she was so fond of. They were now holding something that she didn’t want to see under the same circumstances. “Why the hell did you bring a knife?”

“Because you’ve asked me!” Jimin was quick to respond with a surprised flinch and an anxious answer. It seemed that his patience was wearing thin.

“I didn’t ask you, Jimin.” She shook her head, her stomach churned with worry. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation but she was too scared to even smile at her boyfriend. “Why would I need a knife?”

“I don’t know but you claimed that you would need it.”

Suyeon felt nauseous. She didn’t know if it was because of the fact that she couldn’t tell the difference between who was real and who was not or because the atmosphere of the graveyard was too spooky but her legs turned into jelly. She assumed they could give in any minute. She was only seconds away from fainting.

Out of the blue, the bony old man appeared again beside a grave not far from Taemin’s grave. Suyeon let out another horrifying scream as she caught sight of her worst nightmare.

“Look at him, Jimin!” She exclaimed frantically, waving her hands in front of her boyfriend’s face in an attempt to raise his attention. “Can you see that psychopath? There, that man!” She pointed to the bony figure with her torch. Jimin turned his head in the man’s direction.

“Who?” He furrowed his eyebrows in question as he was looking right at the creepy figure. “I can’t see anyone.” He shook his head as he turned back to Suyeon.

She gasped. She didn’t want to believe that Jimin couldn’t see him. The light of her torch should have been enough to help the boy see him. Plus, he looked straight at the old mand! How couldn’t he see him?

“But he’s there! That old man beside the grave behind you!” She insisted adamantly, her voice shaking.

“I don’t know who you are talking about.” Jimin confessed with a bit of regret in his voice. His eyes were sparkling sadly, his jaw clenched. It was obvious that he was hesitant to ask what was going on with his girlfriend.

Suyeon never saw Jimin like this before. She loved him with all her heart but now that they were in such a situation, she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. She didn’t know why but she had a bad feeling about this night.

“Are you sure?” Suyeon exclaimed, her voice rising as the tension between them was rising as well.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” The boy with the chest-nut brown eyes nodded.

The fog was now suffocating, she felt like it chained her up and didn’t let her breathe. She was almost certain by this point that she was either dreaming or losing her mind.

“Are you even real? Is it really not a dream?” The desperate words rolled off her tongue unconsciously. They were pleading cries of someone who didn’t know what to believe in anymore.

“Suyeon…” Jimin took a step closer to her and put her hands on her shoulders. His eyes seemed black in the dim light of her torch and their colour scared her. Jimin never looked more intimidating before. He was obviously questioning her sanity and she didn’t even need words to know that. His eyes could tell more than a hundred tales. “Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m not crazy, Jimin. He was here and started talking about a bunch of nonsense like I’m imagining things and that he’s not even real and…”

“It’s okay, honey.” The boy cut her off as gently as possible but the look on his face infuriated her. She yanked his hand away from hers.

“You are probably too tired. Let’s go home.” He suggested without blinking an eye at her odd behaviour but she couldn’t stop. She felt the blood rushing through her veins. She couldn’t stop. She was slowly losing her mind. Or was she dreaming? The uncertainty scared her even more. She didn’t know anymore if she wanted it to be true or not. Maybe her grandfather was right and she was also living with a voice in her head. The only exception was that she could even see the source of that voice.

“Don’t talk to me like that! I’m not crazy!” Her angry voice cut the utter silence of the graveyard. It resonated back from the houses in the neighbourhood, repeating her words over and over again. They tasted exactly like sweet lies. Bittersweet ones to be precise.

“I didn’t say that!” Jimin wanted to clarify himself but she didn’t believe him. Not anymore. How could she when he looked at her like she was going nuts?

The petite girl couldn’t help shivering. The cold, the darkness, the pity in Jimin’s voice… It was all too much.

The old man, who was witnessing the scene from afar, suddenly showed up beside her and started whispering into her ears. His breath made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. His breath was cold. Deathly cold.

“You see, I’ve told you. He doesn’t believe you. How do you know that he’s even real?” He said with mellifluous voice.

“You’re right. Maybe I’m imagining things.” Suyeon said more to herself than to the old man, earning suspicious glances from Jimin. “As you’ve said, there’s only one way to find out.” She announced almost proudly as something insidious flitted across the man’s face.

Jimin was so immersed into analysing the situation that he didn’t have the chance to stop Suyeon. She swiftly got the knife from her boyfriend and cut her left wrist.

“Suyeon, stop!!!” Jimin jumped to help her but she turned her back against him. When he made his way to her, so that he could see her from face-to-face, both of her wrists were already covered in mahogany-red bloodstains. Warm, spilling blood was flooding out of the deeply cut scars. “What are you doing? Why are you hurting yourself?” He exclaimed frantically. He was more than horrified at the sight in front of him.

“It’s not real, you are not real, he’s not real.” Suyeon kept repeating like a mantra, cutting another part of her body as she was saying the words out loud.

Raindrops started to fall from the dark and cloudless sky. Tears were streaming down Jimin’s face as he was trying to get back the knife and keep her from hurting herself. Yet, she wouldn’t believe he wanted to help her, so she kept fidgeting in his arms.

“But I’m real. Please, stop!!!” Jimin cried out in horror. “Suyeon, please for God’s sake! Stop! You are bleeding for real!” The boy screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to speak louder, so that the sudden downpour couldn’t silence him.

The worst was that she had dropped her torch when she became too weak to hold it up and he had to crouch down to get it. On the other hand, even with the torch, he could barely see her through the raindrops and under the dim light of the moon. He was as close to her as possible yet he couldn’t seem to change her mind, nor get the knife.

Not until he felt a sudden push from behind and his girlfriend let out a scream, did her fidgeting stop.

At first, he thought that Suyeon finally gave up on hurting herself because he could feel the familiar sternness of the knife in his hands. However, when he looked down at his fingers, he couldn’t see anything except blood. It was her blood.

“Suyeon…” The word rolled off his tongue like a prayer as her warm body fell to the ground.

He didn’t know how it happened. He didn’t know exactly what happened but he was certain of one thing. That push was definitely from another person. It wasn’t Jimin. It wasn’t because of the muddy ground. It was someone else.

When amidst the downpour and his tears colliding with raindrops, he saw an old man’s figure beside the dead body of his girlfriend, he immediately knew that it was him. He was the one who pushed him.

Nothing could prove it better than the fact that the man’s lips raised into a wicked smile as he looked at Suyeon’s lifeless body.

 No one believed Jimin and no one could bring Suyeon back to life to prove that her boyfriend was telling the truth. But everything actually started with the old man.

The old man’s name was Barbas. He was the demon of fear. He had only one day to collect innocent souls and that day was 31st October. He was consuming humans by using their greatest fears, manipulating them to question the people they love, the people they trust and even question themselves, their sanity and their worth. For him, it was the night of sadistic joy but it was the night of fears for humans.

Nam Suyeon’s greatest fear was losing her mind and letting people down. She had to witness as a young child when his grandfather wanted to take his own life because the voice in his head told him to do so. After that, she was having nightmares of his grandfather for a year while he was put into a mental asylum and being pitied by his relatives, even by his own wife. She didn’t want history to repeat itself. She dreaded going crazy and being pitied by others.

For Park Jimin, it was hurting the people who were close to him. Either mentally or physically. He tried his best to please everyone and take care of everyone yet he was afraid that he would mess up everything.

He wanted to help Suyeon that day. After she had called him that she was at Taemin’s grave and needed him to be with her, he didn’t think twice. Even if it was the middle of the night, he didn’t care. Even though it was peculiar that she asked for a knife, he assumed that she would need it to do something around the grave. It needed some gardening and organising after all.

Who would think that it would be the cause of her death? He would be the cause of her death? He just wanted to help her. Be there for her. Reassure her that everything’s going to be alright. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see the old man earlier that day, he didn’t think that she was crazy. He believed her, he trusted her.

Unfortunately, everything was in vain. Everything was a blur. He couldn’t even recall how the incident happened. He could only recall the sight of his dead girlfriend in his arms, blood staining her body like a newly added colour to a bare canvas. He could only recall the sound of her last scream that was so powerful it could break down walls. He could only recall the touch of the knife and the taste of the raindrops on his tongue.

After a while, he wasn’t even sure if the night at the graveyard has ever happened or if that old man was real.

After a year, he didn’t even know if Suyeon was ever real.

After another year, he couldn’t tell the difference between his dreams and the reality.

Unbeknownst to him, that was all Barbas wanted. He turned his greatest fear against him and consumed Park Jimin as a human being. Barbas didn’t kill him − unlike he did to Suyeon whose fear resulted in her death − but Jimin was his toy now.

He was forever chained to his greatest fear.

[scenicstoofs]

set me free

Pairing: Park Jimin/Jeon Jungkook

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Internalized Homophobia, Coming Out,  Self-Acceptance, Slight Angst, Happy Ending

Words: 8131

A/N: Hi! This is my entry for the btsneabl contest. The theme is dark side of love, and I hope this is able to convey what I believe to be an understated aspect of the concept. 

Summary:

Jimin strives for perfection.

From the sway of his body, strong and fluid, pushing and pulling against the wind that rocks him to his core. From every wave of his limbs, each ending with the right amount of flourish in his fingertips that point towards the sun. From every step he takes, all of which are light and fluttering whether it be on concrete or the glossy wooden stages that sit in the midst of a darkened audience.

To the way he presents himself, a beaming smile that crinkles his eyes and enlarges his cheeks. To the way his studies are on the verge of excellence and the way he surrounds himself with friends that reciprocate the love he provides them. To the way his body is slight and delicate and regal from years of dancing, dedication, and diligence.

Everything is perfect.

And this—this love that surges through his soul and crackles with suppressed passion—is imperfect.

Read on ao3

[sugaurora]

BTS Writing Contest - NEABL - Winners Announcement

No Evil Angel But Love BTS Writing Contest

And so another contest has come to a close. A HUGE thank you to all the participants, you’re all phenomenal! The contest received a total of 14 entries and trust me when I say the final scores were so close, wow! This was a series of tough decisions.

 And the winners are:

Your Choice ‘Love Yourself 轉 Tear’ Y, O, U, or R version

➤ Set Me Free by @scenicstoofs (prize)

2017 BTS Live Trilogy Episode III: The Wings Tour Concert DVD

➤ Slow Burn by @floralmins (prize)

Your Choice ‘Love Yourself 轉 Tear’ Y, O, U, or R version + 2017 BTS Live Trilogy Episode III: The Wings Tour Concert DVD

➤ Tears of a Cherry Tree by @vulpes-oblitus (prize)

*Note*: If winners of the Wings DVD would like to trade for the Memories of 2017 DVD, let me know.

Please check out all the contestant’s entries as they all worked very hard and deserve some recognition for their amazing writing! (in no particular order)

➤ Love Me As I Am by @fullmetalbangtan13

➤ Burning by @sweetforjooheoney

➤ Only Now by @thedefinitionofbts

➤ But Monsters Are Always Hungry, Darling by @rainbowjoon

➤ Every Breath You Take by @nochulovs

➤ The Night of Fears by @restlessmaknae

➤ No Mercy by @rude--jude

➤ I Killed Min Yoongi by @hipsterminseok

➤ The Trusted by @peaches-of-1

➤ Fault by @tryingtobts

➤ Pillowtalk by @yoongspd

Big shout-out to my judges, @angustdtt and @joonaxy. Thanks for being with me through the procrastination, ksdjflsdkjfl. Let’s all get married 💍

As always, if anyone has any feedback on how I can make these contests easier, more fun, and more accessible, I’m always willing to hear it.

I’ll be kicking off another writing contest sometime next week so please look out for that.

And for any writers who are nervous about entering, please don’t be. These contests are a fun way to encourage the BTS fanfiction writing community to get out there and just write! You’re all superstars and you should be proud of every word you write because we all can only improve by putting words to the page!

Until next time~

[sugaurora]

Hi!! Do you think a thousand words has a fighting chance against 10k words?

I think you can tell an amazing story in as little as 100 words or as many as a million. The word count isn’t what matters at all so don’t focus on a number. Just tell a good story in your own way and you’ll have as good a chance as anyone 😊 Good luck to you!

[sugaurora]

Hey. About the contest. You said any pairing is okay. But I just want to double check with you about poly relationships. I'm sorry if you've answered this already. I just wanted to clarify. Thanks!! ❤

Poly relationships are perfectly fine 👍😊

[sugaurora]

For the contest, can I post it on AO3 and send you a link? Or does this need to be posted on tumblr?

You can post the fic on AO3, just make sure to send me the link off anon so I can tag your tumblr in the results post. Good luck to you!

[sugaurora]

Hey! First of all, I love your blog and I think it’s a great thing that you run these writing contests. 👏🏻💗 Secondly, I was wondering ... Is smut/soft smut also allowed? (Not PURE smut, but mentions of it/the occasional [shortish] description of steamy sex and stuff if you get me lol.) There was nothing mentioned in the rules. Thanks in advance and sorry if someone asked this already. 🙈 Have a lovely day! 💕

Hi there! o/

Smut is considered a genre (fluff, angst, smut, horror, etc.) and any genre is allowed so you are just fine. Good luck to you :)