Thinking Of My Gc's Out-of-context Moments

thinking of my gc's out-of-context moments

jimin ♡ permission to dance onstage in la

this was such a great fic to read right before bed🥺 loved it omg

my cheeks are growing tired.

summary:  jimin knows what the quiet means for you. pairing: park jimin x reader genre: light angst, comfort-fluff rating: g word count: 1.1k tags/warnings: eludes to mental distress, emotional, crying, a lot of comfort

a/n: ok i know i said i wasn’t posting right now but i just wrote this [slightly edited] and wanted to share in case anyone else needs some comfort~

He knew as soon as he got home that it was going to be a quiet night. Jimin knew when you took an hour to respond to his text about dinner, answering with a “whatever you feel like having is fine,” and a single emoji. He knew that emoji was meant to be cute and to deter him from the fact that you weren’t in a texting mood.

Or a talking mood.

And definitely not in any kind of mood to get on facetime during his short break between practice.

He could focus on his work when this happened. When the best medicine for you was silence for the time being until he got home. But it didn’t stop the whispered sighs that slipped out of him throughout the rest of the day. Or the way one of the members had to repeat his name a second time before he realized they were talking to him because for a second he got lost in the thought of you. What are you doing right now? Were you taking breaks between working? Had you eaten lunch and had some water?

He couldn’t stop himself from texting you when he thought about you possibly crying alone. He hated that thought the most.

[7:15 PM] from Jimin: hello my baby [: i’ll be home early tonight

You didn’t answer and he expected that too.

Keep reading

head empty just ‘wow’

duality of (the cutest) man

outlawed

◇ summary: in the new world, life is lived in abundance by those who survived the war. but for those who were strewn aside (known as ‘the forgotten’), life is lived in starvation and thirst, and under the rule of an oppressive leader. jimin is one of the forgotten who’s main task involves theft of riches. he’s been doing it for years, and nothing has ever ruined his plans. until he meets yn who knows nothing of the world he lives in.

◇ genre: fluff, dystopian world au, post-war au, strangers to lovers

◇ word count: 6.0k

◇ dedication: for @lov-locket because you are one amazing person and i am happy to know you. thank you for always supporting me and listening to me and being so so kind 💕

◇ author’s note: i don’t know what this is but it’s what my brain came up with when i saw alley cat jimin 😌

Under the haze of moonlight, the soles of a young man's shoes scrape briskly against grassy terrain. His motions are quick, and skirtish. The only goal is in his mind is to go unseen by the partygoers who collapse with laughter every time the host opens his mouth. He supposes this to be the general culmination of supreme leadership in a post-modern city previously shaken by a decade long war.

The consequences of said war are few and far in between. Most would have to be transported at least four hours away from the core of the city where the working classes live. The area is densely populated, and heavily monitored. No one is permitted to leave. Entrance is given to select government officials when they conduct monthly inspections. As fas as anyone knows, the president himself has never personally stepped foot.

As the young man approaches an elegant table, his feet stop him. An ice sculpture in the shape of the president's face stands tall and proud. If he were to compare it, a Christmas tree would come up short. Everything from the turn of the president's nose to the point of his chin is carved to perfection.

Though his wide eyes linger on the hyper-realistic art, the young man finds himself peering through it and onto the other side where a girl of medium stature and vibrant clothing stands with a chalice in her right hand. And she is staring right at him.

The young man blinks then turns away. Her gaze follows him. Shortly after, her feet pad along. Though his motions are agile, her determination is its equal, and in a few short seconds, she falls into his line of sight once more when she touches his shoulder.

He freezes.

No one has ever touched him before. Not intentionally. In business dealings, there have been a few times wherein, his fingers brushed a stranger's when trading jewels for capital. But never on purpose; and never without black, leather gloves wrapped around his sinewy fingers.

The girl is the first to speak, and she does so with a voice which sends a lone shiver sprinting down his spine. The depth of her voice is unlike any woman's he has ever apprehended. If the tales of sirens were true, he would admit to having met one tonight.

"Who are you?"

Every part of the young man is on high alert, and yet, he still finds a moment to relay faux nonchalance. He tilts his head towards the hand with which remains holding him solid, and when her hand quivers under the attention, he dresses his mouth with a smirk.

"I am afraid you will have to remove this hand quickly, Miss," he drawls, buttering his own voice for the wicked pleasure of watching yet another woman lose herself to his delectable charm. "Lest it be removed for you."

Her ruby painted lips snarl. Somewhere down below, his manhood beams with simple gratification. "Do not threaten me." There is a rattle to her articulation which does not go unnoticed. "I asked who you are."

"I am a guest," he responds while his arm rises so that his hand gently coaxes hers down. Her fingers are rigid, and uncertain, and he can feel their tremble long past the leather trapping his appendages. She is fearful. Of him, or of this moment? "Just as any other."

"All guests are expected to wear their security tags," she says, eyes scrolling his figure. Though her heart staggers each time she meets his easy smile, she still manages to stand her ground in face of this stranger. "I do not see yours."

Long before his arrival to the party, the young man had infiltrated the security data through personal lines of communication with a hacker whom he relied on for most operations. Tonight followed a similar route of request, payment, and execution. The security tag was one of the first items he had received via underground post.

The girl bites back a lewd gasp when the young man begins to unbutton his dress shirt. He holds back a chuckle at her decision to pretend as if she is not roused by his motions, and continues them until the chain around his neck falls into view.

"Here we are." He pulls the chain up then holds it out for her upcoming investigation. He is all too familiar with her inquisitive type; the sort of women who do not settle down until matters are made clear as day to them.

Timidly, the girl ventures forward to take the chain into her hands. This time, the young man is the one to sharply draw in a breath. From his height, he can see the speckle of rose on her cheeks, and a layer of saliva coating her bottom lip. When his manhood stirs, he glances away.

"Jimin Park," she reads aloud, and it is that syrupy, siren-like voice which the young man decides he will use to bring himself to completion tonight. If all goes well, he supposes. Nights like these are oft unpredictable. Her eyes rise to connect with his. "I have not heard of you before."

Her hands are still holding the security tag when he coughs and takes a step back. The chain flies then bounces against his chest. She watches the movement with rabid interest, then inwardly scolds herself for it.

"I am not a frequent attendee of his honour's extravagant galas."

Her mouth purses. "I am privy to all of my father's close contacts. A man of your adolescence would stick out like a sore thumb amongst the men."

The young man—Jimin—raises a brow. "You are the president's daughter?"

"Yes."

"Then, why is it that I have never heard of you?"

His inquisition stabs her in a wound she has sewen shut multiple times. The pain of her quiet relationship with the President, and the only father she has ever known, is potent. It bleeds into every crevice of her thoughts and emotions, and hastily sends her reeling back to all the years of mental anguish linked to being a child of her father's unrelated by DNA.

Outside of the President's immediate circle, questions about her are scarce and few in between. No one dares inquires about the President's family unless his public relations team pre-approves it. To the outer world, even as a daughter, she is made to be invisible, and his blood children stand as the proud inheriters of his grand fortune and prestige.

In sight of his stranger, she allows the truth to be set free for once. "I am his step-daughter."

Although taken aback, Jimin covers his surprise with a curt nod. "So, unimportant."

"I beg your pardon?"

He twirls a finger in the air. "If you were important, people such as I, would know about you. Would we not?"

"Family matters do not concern you--"

"However not? When you have chosen to insult me with regards to my relationship with your step-father." He places ample emphasis on the term 'step' in a callous effort to drive the knife in deeper. As the audience before the president, who stands center stage while surrounded by guests, cheers, Jimin looks past the girl to gawk at the display of wealth shown by the President when he dunks a chalice of water over the head of a servant. The servant jumps back in shock, and even from his position on the ground, Jimin can see the tears forming in the child's eyes. "Excuse me, Miss. I have urgent matters to attend to."

Jimin slips past the girl in haste, heading straight for the stage, when a familiar voice crackles in his eardrums.

"Whatever you are thinking," the voice relays, "I advise against it."

The young man halts as another round of cheers bellow across the open land when the President invites fellow guests onto the stage to poke and probe the servant until he genuinely is crying. His hands curl into tight fists at his side.

"I cannot stand to watch this mistreatment—“

"And what will you do, Jimin?" The voice goes on. It is much calmer than the race of Jimin's heart. "There is nothing you can do so for the love of God, stick to the plan and head for the south exit. I have arranged for a man to open the vault for you."

Jimin breathes in slowly. "I will come back for the child."

"It is your funeral, dear friend. As long as I am paid, I do not give a fuck what Robin Hood style escapades you get up to."

With that, the line cuts, and in its place, instant silent voyages in. Jimin does not hesitate to rip the earphones out and stuff them in his pocket.

Walking away is difficult. The audience's complete lack of disregard for human life coupled with the atrocious manner in which the President smacks the child across the face makes Jimin see red. Hot, fiery lava shoots through his blood, but he blocks it out for the sake of the bigger picture.

Tonight, the only shipment of rice, flour, sugar, and water for the next month will pass through the main city and into the outskirts where families await it. Each month, the shipment arrives with less and less, until it is less than two kilograms of rice per family and less than six two-liter bottles of fresh water. Each month, when the children are fed, the eldest members of families pass on due to starvation.

In the eyes of the government, this scheme is utter perfection. The human mind is circuited to save the lives of young people over the old. If the rations are split between the young, the old will surely die, which equals more and more children in the workplace when their elders pass on.

Jimin remembers when he buried his family. The last grains of rice which his mother fed him the night before. The last few sips of water his father left for him before he left the world.

In this universe, revenge is virtually impossible. Not with high-technological advancements protecting the city's citizens from foreign attackers. But in Jimin's view, robbery is not. In fact, it may be the only manner in which he and the others, the Forgotten, have a chance to survive.

Amongst the group of seven men, Jimin is titled the Alley Cat. None of them have ever met each other. Their communications are always processed via the Hacker. But all of them are aware of the other's existence. They would have to be. The future lives of their people depends on it.

Unlike the others, though, Jimin has no living family, and thus, no reason to live amongst the them. He spends his days outdoors with no one to call home. He prefers it to be such a way. With the departure of his mother and father, the idea of any other human's close proximity fears him immensely.

The quick steps Jimin takes transport him to the south gate less than a minute later. A young man wearing opaque attire and silver chains gestures for him to come closer. His arms are covered in various markings, some dark, and a few painted red. They are the markings of the Old Family. The members of the government from the pre-war era. Ten years ago, when the current President established reign over the city, he arranged for the members of the then-government to be murdered in their homes. Rumours of the children's escape flittered through the neighbourhoods every once in a while, but Jimin had never personally met one of them. Until tonight.

Jimin blinks at him, confused. "Are you the Action Taker?"

The young man smiles. "That I am, Alley Cat." He motions towards the door next to him. "Fifty minutes. In and out. Get caught and I leave you here to die. Understood?" Before Jimin has a chance to respond, the Action Taker throws a large, black bag at him. There are no distinct inscriptions upon it, though Jimin is well aware of its purpose. The moment the bag lands in his arms, it shrinks in size until all that remains is a bean shaped item, which Jimin throws into his pocket for later. "The trade is at midnight. Meet me out here when you're done." With that, the Action Taker opens the door, watches Jimin stride in, then blends away into the shadows.

Jimin exhales when the door shuts behind him. He is never comfortable around people. Especially ones who are unknown to him. He has heard of the Action Taker before. The Hacker mentions him from time-to-time when he joyously celebrates a big trade.

As far as Jimin knows, he, the Action Taker, works alone. He was the grandson of the previous president, and the youngest remaining member of the Old Family. Rumour says the daughter of the vice-president survived, too, but no one has ever seen her.

Jimin turns left. Instructions from the Hacker state that the vault is situated at the end of two narrow corridors dimly lit with purple lights. All he has to do is crawl past the lasers and onto the other side. The Hacker changed the password to the Vault less than an hour ago. The new password will last for exactly fifty minutes. After which, the vault will shut on its own. In and out. That is what the Action Taker advised.

The purple lights welcome Jimin when he finally reaches the threshold of his destination. The laser beams are thin, white lines protruding from various areas on opposite walls. Jimin reaches into his pocket and pulls out the earphones again. Quickly, he places them in his ear just as the Hacker's voice crackles through.

"The first four lasers are harmless," the Hacker conveys, almost sounding bored. "The two after, though, will pierce your skin. I can try shutting them off but it might not work. New technology." At this, the Hacker begins to sound irritated. "Fucking scumbags. All they do is piss me off with their new tech. I don't have the means to keep up with them and—“

Jimin lowers the volume on his earphones and easily steps over the four initial lasers. His long limbs, petite stature, and extensive flexibility broaden the scope of his abilities to go undetected by the president's security. Not a single laser touches him as he passes by.

But then, he comes face-to-face with the two lasers the Hacker warned him about. They are thicker than the other lasers, and every few seconds, the lines flicker closed. Jimin waits, watching them silently as they flicker back and forth. The flicker pauses every two seconds. This means two seconds of time Jimin has to escape the lasers without getting hurt.

He breathes in. Then out. Then in and out again. The first rule of dangerous exploits has always been to relax and gather yourself. Jimin has escaped fatal affairs before. He can do this. He can.

Though his heart pounds, Jimin moves to take a step forward at the next flicker when a melodic voice swims into his atmosphere.

"80957."

The announcement of numbers shuts off all the lasers immediately, and turns the room black. A second later, the vault opens. The pounding of his heart bellows heavy in Jimin's ears as he glances around the pitch black room for the source of the voice.

When the vault is fully open, the room lights up again and Jimin's eyes fall upon the girl he met earlier as she stands before him. Her ruby lips are pulled into a thin line as she stares him down.

"Alley Cat," she says, frighteningly calm. "I never would have guessed that to be your code name."

Jimin breathes in through his nose. "Did you follow me?"

"Of course," she replies, gaze unwavering from his. "Why would I not follow a thief when he tries to rob my father of his wealth?" Her fingers rise to his chest where she tugs on the security tag around his neck. Again, she is touching him and again, Jimin freezes as she does so. "Jimin Park. The son of a tailor?" Her gaze drops to his attire of pressed linen and gloved hands. "No one in this city steals from the president, so how dare you?"

Jimin is the not the sort of man to panic. The Hacker has often applauded the younger man for his distinct ability to remain cool, collected, and stable in oft surly trades before. No matter how testy his opponents become, Jimin never loses his focus.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said about this moment when Jimin throws a hand over the girl's mouth and drags her into the vault. She screams, but he pushes his palm tightly against her lips; and when she hits him, he ignores it. His eyes jump all around the room until he sees a long pole in one corner. He throws her against it then grabs a thick rope binding scores of documents together, and wraps her arms behind the pole. He moves so rapidly that her senses can hardly keep up.

"Let me go!"

As she struggles against the tight rope, Jimin swallows a lump in his throat and takes a step closer. He clenches his knuckles then slowly tilts her chin up. Even beneath the leather, her skin is soft and beautiful under his touch, and it drives him a little bit insane to be touching a woman for the first time.

"Thank you for opening the vault," he purrs, smoothing out his tone so the vibrations of his voice fail to give away the intensity of his fear. "Now wait here until I finish retrieving what I need." The girl bites down on his hand but all she tastes is leather. Jimin bites back a laugh. "Don't be cruel, sweetheart. This is not about you."

The girl growls at him. "Theft is outlawed in the New World. How could you act in such a way?"

"Theft is outlawed..." as Jimin's voice trails off, the girl notices that he begins to sound both irate and somber. "The news must have slipped my upbringing." He turns his back to her and delves forward for a chest filled with jewels of various colours. He smiles as he pulls out a few, then examines them under the light emitting from above. "I am not a thief, sweetheart. I like pretty and shiny things." He stops to peer at her. Curious, even to himself, his features soften as he takes her in. "That's why I like you."

The girl's cheeks flush with a rosy hue as Jimin hoped. But as quickly as it comes, she masks the invasion just as fast. "If I repeat the numbers backwards," she threatens, "the security system will immediately alert my father." Her mouth twists into a smirk as his falls into a frown. "7...5..."

Jimin throws a hand over her mouth again with the jewels clambering to the ground as he does so. A few of them land at his feet, but he cares little for them as he holds his palm against her hot mouth. She breathes harshly against it causing moisture to gather atop the leather material and soak his palm.

"Explain to me why a step-daughter cares so much about her father's riches," Jimin grumbles, losing some of his calmness. Panic begins to settle into his veins once more but he fights tooth and nail to subvert so she never notices. He lowers his head until they are eye-to-eye. The Hacker's voice crackles in his ears with a name. Jimin grins. "YN."

Her breath picks up and when she tries to speak, Jimin moves his palm until only his thumb fixates on her lips. "I will—"

As she mumbles, Jimin forces her mouth open with simple strength and dips his thumb inside. They both pause. Carnal desire which Jimin has perpetually dismissed rises in blunt heat from his chest as he watches his thumb slip into her hot cavern. When her tongue accidentally grazes his finger, a groan thrashes inside his throat. He pulls away, afraid.

Her chest burns with embarassment at his bold movement, though she manages to squeak out, "I will have you punished for this."

Jimin is mesmerized by the way her lips form the words, so much so that when she tugs herself free of the rope, he hardly notices. And when he does, she is already at his throat with the sharp end of a diamond at his throat.

"I will ask you again," she seethes, irises full of conviction, "who are you?"

Her voice brings Jimin back down to Earth. He grabs her wrist and tears it down, which causes the diamond to slip from her fingers and onto solid ground. All the while, his heart races. In one night, he has touched another human more than he ever has in the last twelve years. So many emotions are rushing through him and he has absolutely zero idea where to begin understanding them.

"The son of a tailor," he answers, sidestepping her as he reaches into his pocket to pull out the bean. One breath of air over the tiny item brings it to life as it expands into a large bag. YN stares at it, startled. He smiles, and moves past her to the riches which he begins to fill the bags with. If he distracts her with surprising motions, perhaps she will forget to call her father at all. Jimin knows people like her quite well, and distractions have always been his best friends when dealing with them. "And I am not a thief."

"These riches belong to my father, so when you take them away, it makes you a thief."

Jimin holds up a golden watch. "This watch is older than your father. What makes you think this belongs to him?"

YN's lips wobble with discomfort. "He... when the Old Family passed in the fire, they left my father with their riches and—"

"The fire?" Jimin stops to stare at her as his brows shoot all the way up. "What fire?"

"The Great Fire of 2089," she explains, confused as to why he is questioning it. All school children learn about the fire as a part of the politics curriculum in their final year of secondary education. Jimin does not appear to be younger than twenty. How is he unaware? "Do you not know it?"

"It is not that I do not know it," the young man grits out as anger fills him, "it is that such a fire never occurred."

YN's brows pull together. "What are you talking about? Of course there was a fire. It took the lives of the Old Family and sent our country to war. Everyone perished except for those whom my father was able to save..." Her explanation fizzles out as she hears Jimin laugh. A wild, dreary laugh as he shakes his head then lifts one gloved hand to his mouth in wonder. "It is no laughing matter. People died and--"

"Do you honestly think everyone is gone?"

"That is what my father tells us. He was there during the war. He fought in it. I was too young to remember all the details."

Jimin flings the watch against the wall behind her head. It breaks into pieces as YN cries out, but he is already talking again. "Your father," he barks, "is the man behind the fire which killed the Old Family. And he is the mastermind behind the extermination of the lower class. Do you think he would have killed us all when there was labour to be done?" Jimin stalks up to her shaking figure. His eyes are nubilous. "Who do you think provides your seamstress with the materials for your dresses?" At that, he bunches silver tulle in his hands as he moves even closer to her. "Why do you think there is still an abundance of fresh water in the city even though the Old Family warned of its diminishment ten years ago? Why, YN?!"

"I... what... you're..." Her blinks are a mile a minute as her mind floods with the images of her father directing the city after the war ended. Images of her father asking the city to pray for the Old Family when news circled of their passing. And images of her father promising the citizens fresh water in their homes forever. Her eyes set on his. "I will not stand for this deception, so--" Her sentence is cut in the middle when Jimin grabs her by the waist and pulls her taut against his body. With her back to his chest, he holds her in place then produces video footage of the daily life of the Forgotten. The screen hangs in the air and shows YN evidence of his claims. She watches in horror as people, frail as paper, work under the hot sun, in coal mines, and in factories. Men and women in common security uniform patrol the perimeters using massive guns. In one instance, a woman kisses the feet of a security personel and begs for water as her child lays beside her crying. The security man kicks her in the face until her head hits the ground and she bleeds out. The child wails harder before he is taken away.

"That was my mother," Jimin whispers, and she feels every breath of his linger on her skin. "They give us these videos to remind us what will happen if we try to fight for our rights. This is the legacy of your father, sweetheart. Do you understand?"

YN gasps as Jimin releases her. His chest moves up and down in quick motions, almost as if this part of him wishes to run away. YN wishes the same. Her entire world is crashing all around her. Everything she has ever known vanishes. Nothing makes sense. Nothing sounds sane or true or real. And everything inside her brain is mush.

Everything except the question which drops from her mouth before she can stop it.

"What will you do with these riches?"

Jimin stops filling the bag to look at her. "I will trade them for food."

YN nods, then swallows. "I don't... I don't know if you're telling the truth, but..." her breath catches as tears blur her vision. "I believe you, Jimin."

The utterance of his name makes Jimin's hands tremble. He licks his lips and clutches the bag tighter, moving forward to fill it with as much as he can get his hands on. In his ears, the Hacker whispers, "Are you okay?" which causes him to rip his earphones out again and push them into his pockets. YN finds a corner to sit in and lays her head between her knees, crying to herself as the video Jimin showed her replays itself to her over and over again.

Jimin checks his watch. He has twenty-three minutes left. He drops the bag down and sits next to YN. Her hiccups are easier to discern now than before. "I thought you knew," he admits, whispers it almost because he has a difficult time believing this girl who claims to be the family of the president has never known the truth behind his doings. But perhaps, this is exactly what has led to his legacy: lies. "Pretend you never met me, okay? It's better this way."

YN lifts her head to stare at him. Tears line her eyes and inside his chest, Jimin's heart whines. She is the single most beautiful person he has ever seen, and when she cries, his instincts beg him to touch her.

"How many of you are there?"

Jimin sighs. "409."

YN's chest aches. Four hundred and nine people she has never known about, but who have been providing her with everything she has ever needed her entire life. Four hundred and nine people living in total poverty, in a world her father created. The Forgotten.

"Take everything," she rushes out, scrambling to stand to her feet as he sits frozen on the ground. Her eyes scan the gold and the jewels with determination. "Whatever you need, just take it. I can..." the words clog her throat, but she pushes past them. "Take it all. Please."

Jimin jumps to his feet, too, and grabs her hands. He feels them shake in his, and though every part of him says not to touch this stranger more than he already has, he takes her hands in his left one then uses his teeth to pull the leather glove off his right. And then, for the first time in forever, Jimin touches another's person's skin without anything covering his.

The sensation is warm, and soft. Her hand is so soft. She looks up at him with even softer eyes.

"I believe you, too," he whispers, "when you say you didn't know."

"I didn't. I really didn't."

Her eyes fill with tears again, and this time, Jimin does not hesitate to wipe them. The salty water lands on his thumb, and inwardly, he burns. Human touch is so strange. All his life, he has tried to imagine what it would be like to touch someone else's skin. Now that he has, he realizes that food is not the only necessity which he has starved for.

"YN," he begins, just as quiet as before. "Pretend you do not know me. Pretend tonight never happened. Can you do this?"

"How can I pretend when I know a truth which has been hidden from me my entire life? What if..." Her eyes widen. "The others. The people I went to school with. My siblings. None of us know. I need to tell them."

Her feet allow her just a few steps before Jimin grabs her around the waist and pulls her to him once more. This time, her chest meets his and he is distinctly aware of the shape of a woman's breasts. His cheeks fill with raw colour, but he ignores it for the way she stares up at him as though he is something to be admired.

Her stomach flutters as his eyes drop down to her lips. He fights with all his might not to be lured in their direction, but their drive is relentless. When he glances at her eyes again, she melts into his arms. All the tension dissipates for a moment.

With an erratic heartbeat, he grabs her by the nape, threads his fingers in her long hair, and drops his head for a searing kiss. A noise of satisfaction bubbles in his throat when she returns the kiss between a hiccup and stray tears. His rugged tone is delicious. He feels every bit as perfect as she could ever imagine a man feeling. Despite her strained relationship with a father who ignores her existence, she had never been permitted to meet men. This did not stop her from dreaming about such a time, however. A time when she, too, would be made to understand why the women in her circle blushed when speaking of their husbands. With his one kiss, he has managed to break a dam inside her.

He groans when her tongue meets his. The same tongue which had only minutes ago licked his thumb. They part for a split second.

"I do not know what I am doing," he confesses, breathless as he speaks. His eyes are ravenous and his skin the hue of summer peaches. "But I do not wish to stop."

"Then please," she whispers, tightening her fingers around his lapels. "Please, don't stop. I want you."

Her plead provides him the courage to dip his down again and sink his mouth onto her neck. In his pocket somewhere, his earphones crackle, but he ignores it for the taste of her perfect skin on his tongue. He feels every bit unlike himself than ever before.

Never before has he craved another human as he does her. Never before has he wanted another human so close. As an Alley Cat, he has always roamed this world alone. After his parents' passing, he had stopped dreaming about being touched or tended to ever again.

Until now.

Her hands are feverish as they wrap themselves around him  as he buries his face into her neck. She tilts her head to the right to grant him more access. A moan escapes her.

Jimin leans away. His eyes are round. "What was that?"

"I..."

He leans in to nip her skin. "Do it again. Fuck, I want to hear it again."

YN kisses him feverishly, and presses the moan into his mouth. He groans aloud. Their presence overwhelms each other. Neither knows where to stop touching. Not that they would. Time becomes of little significance in this small room where they are surrounded by all the world's finest wealth, and yet, all they desire is the other.

Jimin works her mouth open with his and slips his tongue in. Everything he does comes to him through instinct. Every touch, every sound. He tastes the heated space and sucks on her tongue lavishly, enjoying the breathless moments more than he could ever fully convey.

As his aura begins to consume her, her earlier reservations about this curious young man dissolve into nothingness.

His fingers play along her jaw, then pull her chin closer. He is smoke and everything is foggy. Her chest tightens when he tugs her bottom lip into his mouth before separating them altogether.

"I must go," he relays, sharp eyes now soft and rounded. He caresses her cheek. "I may never see you again, but—”

Her hand reaches up to encase his. Where his eyes are uncertain, hers are stricken with unfiltered panic. "No, please. I want..." she gulps down so much of what she wants to say to him for the sake of the most important at hand. "I want to help you. All of you. Please just, take me with you."

"YN, I can't."

The vault starts to wane closed.

"We must go," she warns, intertwining their fingers. Jimin briefly glances at the laced appendages in awe. Unlike what he had always believed, his hand does not go up in flames at her bold touch. He feels his heart beat loudly in his chest. She pulls him along, and stops only to grab the black bag off the ground. She throws it at him. "Lets go."

The vault moves quickly. Seconds before it shuts behind them, Jimin slips past. Their breaths are haggard as they stand in between the corridor again. The lasers flash on.

"80957," YN shouts. The lasers vanish. She looks at him quickly. "We have one minute before the lasers come on again. After that, they'll request a new password which only my father can administer. So, run!"

Jimin nods and throws the bag over his shoulder. Then, they both run down the corridor. The long stretch seems entirely endless, but with seconds to spare, they make it to the finish line where YN throws herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she weeps. "I'm so sorry. About everything." Her head moves back so she can look at him. "I will fix this." Head and heart muddled, she rises to her toes to kiss him. "Go now. I will find you again."

His eyes widen. "What, I thought—”

"The guards have been alerted," she nods, showing him the cut at the bottom of her dress where the laser pierced through to her skin. His breath catches. She stands back as he tries to move closer. "Go, Jimin! You don't have much time!"

"YN, no—”

"We will find each other again," she assures, throwing the south exit open. His hair blows against the night air. "And I will fix this. I promise you, I will."

A distinct stampede of of boots is heard from the other side. Jimin leans in to kiss her once more. Addicted. In one night alone, he has grown addicted to another person. Her lips are saccharine and perfect. It kills him to let her go.

"Go."

A single mouthed word and her sweet smile is the last thing he records to memory just before he slips out the door and into the night.

—-

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