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In 2016, a list of male idols with sponsors leak to the news outlet. Kim Seokjin's name is on it.
In 2021, BTS is a group with four Daesangs, record-breaking albums, and six members. Everyone calls them a success. Jimin calls them a failure.
Jimin is a mob boss and Seokjin is his princess. There's no way out of the underground world, except through death. Even for the king and his princess
- I think I made you up inside my head https://archiveofourown.org/works/10350105/chapters/22870707
The thing was, Jimin wasn't supposed to be in Seokjin's flat, not now, not ever. It wasn't because the last time they saw each other while conscious was when they were both yelling and throwing ceramic plates and knickknacks at each other, though that did play a part. A really huge part, in retrospect, but still--
Jimin wasn't supposed to be here, in Seokjin's kitchen, commenting on his burning eggs like they were living some fucked up domestic romcom all over again. Seokjin knew, because he'd just seen Jimin the day before in the ICU, bruised and bloody after a car accident in Itaewon. Seokjin knew, because he'd just come back from signing the papers at the damn hospital himself after they'd told him he was Jimin's only emergency contact even after all those years. If Jimin was in a hospital bed on life support, then the Jimin Seokjin was seeing now had to have been his imagination. He had to be.
Or he could be a fucking ghost. Seokjin didn't know which one he preferred more.
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(Seokjin thinks he's going insane. He's really, really not.)
feb 4 2018 +