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Breathe

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Jimin took a deep breath, huffing as he set the last box down on the tiled floor of his new shop. Sweat dripped off the bridge of his nose and onto the ground, a byproduct of his mini workout.

'Come on,' He scolded himself jokingly. 'You can dance for three hours straight but can't move a few of things to and from a truck?'

A few was an understatement concerning the amount of belongings Jimin had, maybe about thirty or so if he was to estimate. He glanced down at the box at his feet, wrinkled and worn, but still bearing the lopsided word 'BEDROOM' in bold, black letters. The blonde felt a pang of homesickness hit him and immediately shook it off, instead focusing on the future.





Jimin had come straight from his hometown of Busan and into the bustling city of Seoul, determined to make his dream of being a florist come true.

When he had first seen the advertisement displaying an overwhelmingly beautiful housing and business accommodation online, he was more than a little skeptical. The corner store extended to the second story and was large and spacious, all in all a very wonderful set up. It was off the crowded streets of the constantly bustling city and instead resided in a little nook in a homey alley. Other businesses were around his so it wasn't too shady or abandoned, rather cozy and inviting. What put him off, however, was the strange price.

It was surprisingly low for such a building which led him to believe it was a scam, a person that would snatch your credit card info and run. But with Taehyung’s persistent bugging, Jimin decided to call the number provided and found out that no, it was not.

A little anxious, he researched the name of the seller and found the man to be real and reliable. Beyond happy at his discovery, the blonde immediately called the other back and took up on the amazing offer.

Now, here he was three months later standing in the empty room of his soon to be flower shop, light filtering in from the enormous front window that seemed to take up the majority of the wall. It was perfect, seeing as customers could look in and observe the different varieties of flowers and plants Jimin was selling, or going to sell. The person that sold him the place, a very kind and gracious man, had cleaned out both floors for him to his relief so there wasn't much more to do other than set up.

With renewed energy, Jimin straightened up from his resting position and readjusted his grip on the box. He then began the long process of lugging all his personal belongings up the rickety wooden stairs.

"Shit," he cursed, stumbling up the last step and onto the hard floor below. His botanical books tumbled out of the box with a loud, resonating thud and skidded across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a sickening crack. Groaning from his fall, Jimin staggered to his feet and sighed at the mess, slowly but surely cleaning up everything that had fallen.

Taking a deep breath as he did so, the blonde attempted to will his bad attitude away. There was no way he was going to start off the business with a negative mindset; he hadn’t saved up for years to be able to open up his own store just for it to fail, especially not after investing so much time and money into his dream.

 

Settling on the floor, he smiled gently as he remembered his 16 year old self. Jimin had helped out at his grandmother's farm; he had tended to the garden there and instantly fallen in love with the complexity of the flowers, the lovely swirling aromas. He vividly remembers the moment he realized he had found his dream, his niche, his talent. It had been a warm spring day, wind blowing through his hair gently as he had carefully watered and weeded out the garden. The Hyacinths and Anemone had been his favorite, their petals caressing his skin as he sat by idly. Jimin had thought then, how nice and calming everything was, that he never wanted to leave this behind. His parents had always supported him and even helped pay a little for the shop, which Jimin vowed to pay back in full, plus a little more.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and reached down to pick up the last book, spotting two windows on the wall before him. With a soft giggle of excitement, he ripped away the fraying curtains to reveal–

"Oh my...," he trailed off, confusion clear on his face as he gazed at what was supposed to be glass.

Instead, the holes were boarded up with wooden slats, meticulously and precisely done. The wood, which was typically a light brown, was blackened with what looked like the effects of a fire. Jimin leaned up cautiously, sniffing the piece before wrinkling his nose. It sure didn’t smell like it was burnt, he would know. He had had many bonfires down in Busan with Taehyung, making smores and telling funny stories. Wood was not supposed to smell like that.

It was acrid, the scent of decay radiating off of the surface like it was reaching out.

“Well,” Jimin coughed, holding his nose and letting the curtains fall shut. “This is the first thing that is coming down.”

Sunlight could barely make it through the cracks and ended up casting twisting, reaching shadows on the blonde’s worried face. Raking his head for a solution as to why the last owner would do this, Jimin could see no reason for the windows to be hidden because of the store's placement, which was pleasant and not the least bit threatened. The real question, however, is why the slates appeared burnt without actually being put near a fire. Water would produce the decaying smell, but only fire would make the slashing, black burn marks littering the wood.

Jimin shivered before checking his phone, quickly seeing how late it was. Deciding to put the ominous window off to the side for now, the blonde straightened up with a grunt. He still had at the most ten more massive boxes to drag up here and he was not going to do that at night, which was just three hours from arriving. Sighing, Jimin began to whistle a brightening tune before hurrying down the stairs and into the white moving truck. Despite the many distractions he forced upon himself, however, he couldn't shake the nagging worry off.







Over the course of a month Jimin worked to open his shop: ordering shipments of flowers, fixing anything that needed to be fixed, and, most importantly, putting up the sign.

It was a beautiful piece, the last bit of home he had with him. His best friend Taehyung, art major and soft boy extraordinaire, had designed it just for him. It displayed a variety of pastel flowers with elegant lettering of the shop's name, Serendipity. When his childhood friend had presented him the gift the day before he left, Jimin had cried profusely. It had been a sorry sight, a small boy (Jimin) cradled in Taehyung’s gangly arms in the middle of the driveway. Both had cried but Jimin had ended up shedding the most tears, body still clinging to the last piece of familiarity.

Now, he nailed the sign over the faded outline of "Jin's Cafe" with pride and watery eyes. It felt great, the last step to finally opening his store to the public.

"Hello?" A soft voice came behind him as he begun down the rungs of the rusted ladder he had found somewhere in the downstairs supply closet. Jimin jumped with a yelp of surprise and the ladder shook dangerously, tipping to the left.

A hand shot out and steadied it with a quick "Oh shit, sorry”. The brunette behind him bowed in apology, stepping away from the blonde as if he had been burned. Jimin carefully made it to the ground and stood in front of the other, bowing back politely.

"I-It's fine." he chuckled nervously, shifting from foot to foot. The man, tall and intimidating, had arms that looked like they could kill and thighs thick enough to break a skull. He was wearing a short sleeve, plain white t-shirt with some ripped jeans and stocky, worn out Timberlands. The man honestly looked like a fuck boy that Jimin had seen too many times in his high school days and got even more nervous and uncomfortable. Jimin stepped away slightly to put a little distance between their rather close bodies.

"I just saw you putting up that sign and wanted to come say hello." The other said politely. "My name’s Jeon Jeongguk."

"It's nice to meet you, Jeongguk-ssi." Jimin chuckled. "I’m Park Jimin."

The air turned a bit awkward after that, the two shifting in place with downcast eyes.

"So," Jimin coughed, breaking the tension slightly. "Where do you work?"

Jeongguk snapped out of his daze, hitting the blonde with an adorable bunny smile. Suddenly, he didn’t look too much like a player that would break a girl’s heart as soon as he won it. "Oh! I own the coffee shop across the street."

The man pointed to a store painted in light, neutral colors and his arms flexed, revealing toned muscle and thick veins. Jimin felt his face turn red and he looked away from the taller, observing Jeongguk's working space. It was about the same size as his and was quite aesthetic looking, the sun hitting the brick wall just right so that every chipped spot was revealed. But instead of making it look shabby, it added on to the artistic feel and Jimin begam to crave a taste of coffee. Blushing, he turnt to the other.


"Your place is very beautiful, I'll be sure to visit sometime!" Jimin chirped, genuinely wanting to visit the interesting looking cafe.

Light conversation continued on, ranging from why he had decided to come to Seoul to how nice the weather was. Jeongguk was surprising nice and fun to talk to, but there was just something about him Jimin couldn’t exactly place his finger on. The man wasn’t rude, creepy, or mean. The blonde thinks it may be the vibe coming off of him, a mysterious and wary feeling coming to his senses the longer he stood and talked with Jeongguk.

“Well,” Jimin started with a shy smile. “It’s getting a little late…”

Jeongguk glanced down at his watch before gasping. “You’re right!” He exclaimed embarrassedly. “Sorry for keeping you so long, Jimin-ssi.”

The blonde giggled before beginning to push the ladder to the side. “No, no, it’s fine!”

Bidding farewell, Jimin parted with the other and began dragging the metal contraption through the doors of his shop. But before he could make it all the way inside, a tan hand grabbed his wrist sharply. Startling, Jimin reeled back violently just to come face to face with a worried Jeongguk.
Glancing nervously at the building, the brunette leaned down to whisper in the other's ear.

"Please be careful," he said quietly. " Don't mess with what you shouldn't. "

He left quickly after that, leaving Jimin confused and uncomfortable. The blonde touched his wrist where Jeongguk’s touch seemed to burn him, still feeling the phantom hold as if he was still being grabbed. He rubbed the area to soothe it as he watched the other’s receding figure, ladder on the floor forgotten.


The tall man didn't even look back.

 




After the boarded windows incident and the warning from Jeongguk, Jimin was on constant edge. Every noise, every creak, every sound set him off. Just yesterday he had accidentally knocked a random book off of the corner table and about had a heart attack, nerves tingling and body seizing up in fear. It took ten minutes to calm himself down, although he had been scared again when it slipped from his hand and made a booming smack on the tiles.

Thinking that opening up his shop would help, and to an extent it did (with the flood of customers praising the beautiful setup), but his anxiety was still on a high.

Jimin was a people person, always was and always will be. The happiness of others brought him joy, his friends and family labeling him as a people person. He had since then made it his goal in life to make people smile and until now he had always joined them.

With every customer, he thought their bright attitudes and kind comments about his plants and store would lessen his anxiety but if anything it made him more wary. Don't mess with what he shouldn't? What does that even mean?

"Enough," he chided himself as he closed up Serendipity for the day. "For all you know Jeongguk is just some crazy man whose head isn't on right."

He repeated this to himself as he made his way upstairs to his little flat, stairs creaking with each step.

For some reason, the blonde just couldn't believe himself.

Jimin groaned aloud as he flopped down on his thin mattress, swamped with thick blankets that still smelled like home. The blonde nuzzled into them, thoughts swirling around in his mind as he tried to calm himself down.

"I've worked too hard for this to go back now." He finalized, determination firm as he began to make his dinner.

"I will not be scared away because of some stupid rumors, whatever they may be."

Grabbing a packet of ramen with vigor, he began to boil a pot of water on the little gas stove. It was warm enough that he could wear shorts and not be chilly, but not too hot to where he was sweating. It was then Jimin wished the window could be opened so he could listen to the night sounds instead of the deep silence of his flat. Maybe he could even stargaze if the angle was right.

As the water began to bubble Jimin shook himself from his thoughts to lay the noodles into the pot. Snapping a picture of his cooking meal, he sent it to Taehyung with the text, "poor but happy".

His puppy like friend replied immediately and said how he would give Jimin all his money if he could. The blonde chuckled before engaging in a heart war, spamming the other with little emoji hearts.

Finally clicking the device shut after a quick goodnight, Jimin dumped the seasoning into the meal. The powder floated up to his nose and he let out a series of sneezes, shaking his blonde locks with each shudder.

He mixed it all together with short swirls, pouring it into a plastic bowl with visible scratches on the side.

" Shit!" He hissed when a hot droplet escaped onto his wrist. It burnt like a bitch and he began to wave his hand around frantically as if to get the sensation off. Jimin dropped the bowl onto the counter with a soft thud and rushed to the sink where he ran cold water over the wound. It was small, thankfully not needing to be dressed.

Jimin shivered and patted the irritated skin dry before turning back to his steaming meal. He grabbed the bowl (carefully, not wanting to hurt himself again) and reached into the side container for a clean pair of chopsticks.

But, they weren't there.

Jimin groaned as he realized the rest of his utensils were dirty and the remainder of the usable ones were up in the storage closet.

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, the steady throbbing a sign of a headache.

The blonde resorted to trying to eat without anything, tilting the contents into his mouth slowly.

"Nggh!" he choked as noodles slid down his throat. He coughed harshly and beat his fist on his chest as hard as he could to dislodge any intrusive food particle from his poor lungs. Jimin set the bowl down a little to hard, broth spilling over the sides.

After that he forced himself to go get the spoons from the box, trudging over to the closet. Because he was so short he needed a chair to reach the top shelf, although he’d never admit it.

"No one has to know," he whispered as he dragged the stool in front of the storage closet, stepping up onto it with a sigh. It groaned under his weight and he pouted. He didn’t weigh that much, did he?

Peering up into the darkness, he could vaguely see the box, labeled 'kitchen: extra' in the sloppy handwriting of Taehyung, just within his reach.

Tongue out as if it would help in to concentrate, Jimin stood on tippy toes and stretched his arm out toward the container.

"Yes!" He cried as he nudged the cardboard out. It tilted to the side cautiously before falling forward, just as his chair tipped back.

Jimin gasped as he and the box lost balance. He hit the floor hard, muscles tight as he braced himself for the impact.

All the air rushed out of his lungs and he laid on the hardwood in a daze. He somewhat remembered the box hitting his stomach and then a burst of pain, sure to leave a bruise.

Jimin choked as he gasped for air, eyes clenched shut tightly. His bones ached and his joints crackled painfully and he grunted when he accidentally shifted.

'Is this how I'm going to die,' he thought, slowly regaining consciousness. The world tilted as he struggled to sit up, kneeling on the ground limply.

He stayed there long enough for the ramen to go cold, for the air to lose its warmth. The blonde shivered as a breeze passed by him and he wrapped his arms around himself for protection.

When Jimin finally managed to get up, his legs were numb from his rigid position. Struggling, he made his way to his unmade bed. The rumpled sheets and old blankets seemed to reach out to him, begging him to come lay down (which he had no objections too). The blonde wasn't hungry anymore, just wanting to sleep off his terrible night.

Luck wasn't on his side, however, as his next step kicked a thin box that wasn't there before right in front of him.

Rubbing his tired eyes, he leaned down to inspect the victim of his sock clad foot.

It was a dusty little thing, heavy cursive writing along the top of the brown cardboard. Cracked with age and time, it still managed to feel...oppressive. Like its presence took up the room, demanding attention or else consequences would be delt out.

Taking a deep, quivering breath, Jimin blew hot air across it. Dirt particles flew everywhere and Jimin began to cough, waving his hands around desperately.

"Agh," he wheezed, the muddled air filling his lungs. Eventually it settled down to where he could finally read the text. Or, see it at least. The words were in English, and despite his knowledge of the language (he passed his class with an A in high school, something he prided himself in) he couldn't decipher what it said.

"O-," Jimin spelled out the word. "U-I-J-A?"

Rolling the unfamiliar sounds around his mouth, he turned to Naver. The blonde scrolled through his cracked phone, box momentarily put aside as he nestled down into a bed of blankets.

" Ah! " He cried out as he clicked a promising link. "It says here that..."

Jimin felt a shiver run up his spine as he read about his particular discovery.

"An ouija board is used to summon spirits and communicate with the dead," he said out loud shakily.

"If the planchette motions to the board’s four corners, this is an indication that the entity you’re speaking with is undoubtedly evil."

Jimin felt a cold breeze, like someone's fingertips, trail down his spine. He shivered, pulling the cozy blankets closer.

"And worse, if it makes a figure 8 or moves in circles, that evil spirit is kindly letting you know that it now has control of the board."

He could see the box laying at the edge of the bed and he looked away quickly. It seemed innocent, just a little board game, but from what Jimin had just read it was the complete opposite.

"What should I do with it," he mused aloud, dreading the moment he had to touch the thing.

Should he kick it under his bed?

No, he probably wouldn't be able to sleep with it just inches below him.

Putting it back in the closet was too much work, so that option was out. With a sigh, Jimin heaved himself up and tiptoed to the menacing cardboard.

The letters seemed to glare threateningly at him and he shivered suddenly.

"Get a grip, Park Jimin." He pinched himself on the arm. "It's just a box."

He knew it wasn’t from what he had just read but maybe saying it aloud would make it seem less evil, less capable if hurting him. The blonde cradled the object gingerly, holding it out in front of him as if it was on fire.

Dumping it onto the kitchen counter (and throwing a towel over it for good measure; if he can't see it it can't see him), Jimin raced out of the room and jumped onto his bed.

Reaching out for the phone on his side table, he began typing out a frantic message to Taehyung.

Jiminie: 11:56pm
i think i fucked up





















Chapter Text

Jiminie : 11:56pm

i think i fucked up


The blonde waited anxiously, picking at his nail beds as he waited for a response. Not having to sit idle for too long, his phone dinged about a minute later.


TaeTae: 11:57pm
whats up jiminie? i thought you were going to bed



Jiminie: 11:57pm

its rly important



TaeTae: 11:58pm

are you okay?

do i need to call someone???

are you hurt?????

oh my lord they got him dear jesus leT HIM BE OKAY JIMINIE IM CALLING YOUR PARENTS AN



Jiminie: 11:59pm

GIVE ME TIME TO RESPOND OML

anyway

im not hurt too bad, i just fell

but

i found something



For a few minutes, he got no reply. Jimin clutched the phone tightly as he snuggled into the depths of his blankets. Despite the added coverage, he was still shivering slightly from nerves and the suddenly cold room. It was suspicious and honestly he didn’t like it, considering how warm it had been earlier before the mysterious board showed up. The blonde shook his locks in an attempt to calm down, pondering the situation he had gotten himself into.

He had the perfect little shop, a steady business (for now, at least), quiet neighbors, and a peaceful life. All Jimin needed were his flowers, his family, and friends.

So why was he, an innocent, soft individual, being harassed by a... presence? Jimin hadn’t cursed out any graves, nor had he done anything remotely bad to render him haunted! Hell, the worst thing he’d ever done was probably lie to his mother about doing his homework when he really went outside to hang with Taehyung.

On edge, he jumped as the device in his hand began to buzz loudly, signaling an incoming call. He raised it so he could see who it was, Taehyung’s box smile grinning up at him. Jimin smiled at the memory, already imagining the little going away party his friend had thrown for him. They both looked terrible in the selfie, Jimin himself almost passed out on the floor with a drunk-off-his-ass Taehyung hovering over him. Although it was very messy looking, he still loved the picture enough to put it as Tae’s contact photo.

A particularly loud ring moved Jimin from his daydream and he answered as fast as he could, putting his friend on speaker.

“Jimin-hyung?”

“Oh god , Tae!” He cried, the mortifying situation crashing down onto him. “I swear I’m going to go crazy in this shop.”

Taehyung shuffled over the phone and his voice came out slightly panicked, as if he was moving around a lot.

“What happened? Is someone living in your basement? Crazy stalker?”

The blonde groaned loudly, miserable in his little bundle of sheets. “Worse.”

“What can be worse than an insane stalker?”

Looking around, he tried to spot anything out of place. Nothing moved, nothing swayed, nothing growled in the night. Yet, a feeling of forbiddance filled him and he felt as if he was being watched. As if someone else was listening to his friend talk, like they were sitting right beside him.

Uncomfortable, Jimin switched the speaker onto regular mode.


“An…” he swallowed nervously. “...ouija board.”

“A what ?” Taehyung stopped moving, something thumping in the background. “What’s that?”

Jimin felt a breeze caress his back and he froze, unable to move. It traveled up, up, up until it reached his neck, where it stayed there.

‘It’s just the air conditioning,’ He chanted even though he knew the ac wasn’t on. Taking deep breaths, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat, Jimin relayed the information he had found out to Taehyung.

“Holy shit,” His friend gasped, the shuffling starting back up. “I’m headed over.”

That explains the noises and scuffles. Jimin smiled at his caring friend, always ready to help him whenever and wherever.

“No, Taehyung-ah,” He tried, knowing Taehyung shouldn’t drive until at least the morning. “Wait until tomorrow, I don’t want a repeat of the accident.”

Silence stretched across the line and he wished he was there to hug and comfort the brunette. Although it had happened when they were teens, Taehyung and Jimin both have vivid memories of that fateful night. Taehyung, in an attempt to pick up some milk his mom mentioned she needed, had gone out late in a rush. It was dark and Tae already had a hard time seeing, putting him at a high risk for crashes to occur.

And, unfortunately, it did.

The accident happened on the way back when Taehyung swerved to avoid hitting a little dog that had wandered onto the road, forcing the car into a ditch. Thank god he only suffered a broken arm and suffered no head trauma, Jimin almost tearing up at the memory of his scratched up friend on the hospital bed.

The man was brought to the present by a loud huff on the other side.

“I promise, hyung,” Taehyung sniffled. “I’ll come tomorrow.”

Just as he was about to reply, a flash of something moved in the corner of his eye. He stilled instantly, breath becoming faster as his pulse rose.

“Jimin?”

“I-I’ll,” Said male stuttered. “-call you b-back.”
“Jimi-”

The blonde hit the end button, clicky silencing his phone as he buried himself under the blankets. The pressure on his neck had disappeared, leaving a stinging feeling similar to the one Jeongguk had left in its wake.

There was a thump in the kitchen, a whimper forcing its way out of his plump lips. A shudder wracked his body and he hid back under the covers, breathes labored and heavy. Jimin didn’t know what to do, after all what is a person supposed to do if someone breaks into your house but they didn’t really break in because there’s no way he wouldn’t have heard the door to downstairs move or the alarm go off and-

A shuffle was heard, abet closer to him and Jimin slapped a hand over his mouth. He stifled a scream as tears prickled his eyes, fear coursing through his veins as if it was blood.


Should he call the police?

‘There has to be someone here,’ He thought nervously. ‘I heard a crash!’

The blonde counted in increments of ten until before he noticed he almost dozed off. Not wanting to do that in such a desperate time, Jimin tentatively peered up above the blankets. He scanned the room meticulously, nerves frazzled from his earlier conversation. The curtains swayed when there was no breeze and the light in the kitchen flickered slightly.

It was then that he noticed just how quiet it was. The blonde could almost hear his own heartbeat, his breathing suddenly sounding too loud in the pressuring silence.

“W-who’s there?” He called out, clearing his throat loudly.

No answer.

He yelled out two more times, each one getting no response, no resounding crash.

‘Should I investigate?’ The blonde bit his lip until he tasted iron, cheeks wet with slow tears. ‘Or should I leave?’

If Jimin ran out now, he’s almost 70% sure that Jeongguk guy would let him sleep at his place. He had been the one to warn him, after all. Plus, the blonde had no doubt anyone would reject an innocent, terrified citizen begging for a place to stay at for the night.

The blonde grabbed his phone and hit the on button, watching as the screen lit up. Jimin held back a gasp, eyes wide as he read the time.

It was 3:04am.

That couldn’t be right? He got on the phone with Taehyung at 12am and they only talked for, at the most, thirty minutes. How could two hours pass without him noticing? Did he fall asleep under the blankets, and when he thought he caught himself from doing so he was actually waking up?

‘It’s the ouija board,’ A voice whispered in the back of his head and he shivered violently, terror filling him.

He needed to call someone, and fast.

Jimin tried to swipe open, but the phone refused to cooperate. Mortified, he watched as minutes seemed to pass by, yet the time never changed. The phone, or real life, was frozen in time.

“F-fuck,” Jimin whispered as he stabbed at the screen frantically, fingers trembling. He couldn’t understand what was happening, or why it was happening! Did he disturb a spirit in the house? Or, was it not even a spirit?

But most importantly, what did it want?

Suddenly, the device was ripped out of his hands and into the wall. It hit with a dull thud that was sure to dent the dry wall, and that’s when he finally screamed.

The blonde stumbled out of the bed, covers twisting around his legs as he tried to get to the door. Just as it was within his fingertips, the wood slammed shut in his face loudly, causing him to stumble back with a whimper.

Jimin’s brain was in full on panic mode now, shouting for him to run and hide. The bed? The kitchen? The closet?

The evil thing, the demon, the whatever seemed to agree with the second option. One minute he was standing, the next he was being dragged to his kitchen. Letting out small yelps of pain as his hips dug into the hardwood, Jimin tried to catch his fingers into the floor in an attempt to stop.  It proved useless when a harsher tug threatened to dislocate his limbs and he stopped, curling up into himself.

When the blonde reached his destination beside the counter, his legs were released and he scrambled up. Jimin hugged his knees to his chest as sobs racked his body, dreading what was to come.

God, he really should’ve stayed back home with Taehyung.

“What do you want?” He whimpered to the empty space, eyes squeezed shut.

To his surprise, a nudge on his foot caused him to shriek, unfolding just to scoot across the floor. It was the planchette, similar to the one he saw online, but more forbidding. More, angry. The faded wood, like the one boarding up the window, was interupted by a foggy glass circle in the middle. It had a deep scratch down the center, one that Jimin did not want to find out why.

It was shoved towards him again and Jimin picked it up in shaking hands.

“What am I s-supposed to d-do?” He sniffled loudly.

In response, a yellowed board was sent flying toward him. Jimin yelped pathetically, ducking quickly so that it didn’t hit him. It fell behind him with a heavy clunk and he faced it with a numbing shudder.

The blonde racked his brain for instructions, trying to remember what to do and what not to do.

‘Alright,’ He prepared himself. ‘No figure 8’s and no corners.’

Jimin chanted the warning in his head as he placed the piece onto the board with a deep, stuttering breath. Immediately it began to move.

“O-U-T,” Jimin spelled out loud. “ M-me? I need t-to get out?”

The planchette moved to no, spelling ‘out’ again.

“W-who?” He felt dread begin to creep up on him. It settled down in his stomach, churning below as the planchette slid across the worn out board with ease.

M-E

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and his fingers froze. Suddenly hyper aware of everything, Jimin swore he felt someone behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, whimpering as he hung his head low. The blonde couldn’t bear to open them, even when the object in his hands began to move. The smooth motions became faster and faster until Jimin’s entire arm was jerking back and forth from the force.

He couldn’t contain his cries, letting out shaky whines as the situation engulfed him. God, he really hoped this was just a product of falling off the chair. Maybe he had hit his head so hard he got a concussion, and this was all just a dream. A terrible, terrible dream.

Jimin would’ve crossed his fingers if he could, but both of his hands seemed to be practically glued to the possessed piece.

Suddenly, it stopped without a sound, frightening Jimin so bad his eyes flashed open in fear.

And oh, what a mistake that was.

Chapter Text

 

A man sat across from the rickety board, staring into Jimin’s eyes. If he wasn’t already filled with dread he would’ve screamed but he felt frozen to the spot, his limbs refusing to cooperate.

 

The man was probably stunning at some time, a model perhaps when he had been alive. Now, however, you could clearly see spots of decay and age by the deep scratch marks on his face to the ashy, pale skin tone. His hair was a dirty brown similar to that of earthy soil and his eyes a sparkling red. The demonic entity was hunched forward with a grimace and his hand was on top of Jimin’s, which rested on the wooden planchette. It was there, he could see it , yet he felt no extra weight other than the soft brush of wind.

 

Jimin whimpered as the man straightened up his spine slowly, each movement cracking painfully. Now he towered over the blonde, glaring down at him with a hatred he had never seen before. It turned his blood icy cold and made his hands and feet numb. It was like a thousand ants were crawling on him, eating him alive from the inside out. A buzzing filled his head as they made eye contact and Jimin’s focus was put solely on the other.

 

Get ,” The man paused. Jimin shivered, the male’s voice scratchy from not being used. “ Out .”

 

The blonde was straight up shaking like a leaf in a storm, breath stuttering with each passing second.

 

“I-I don’t understa-”

 

The planchette flew across the room as the brunette raised his hand. It clattered to the ground with the thud and was quickly accompanied by Jimin’s yelp of terror. The demon, the ghost, the whatever , stood up slowly.

 

“I said,” He was too tall, taller than anyone Jimin had ever seen. His legs were unnaturally long and hands too claw like. The blonde began to scramble back as the thing advanced.

 

Get ,” Each word was punctuated by a harsh step closer and Jimin would do no more than scoot back desperately in an attempt to get away. Every time he got farther from the thing it stepped closer faster than he could begin again, sending waves of fear cascading over him. “ Out .”

 

Jimin found himself nodding frantically, ready to sprint out as soon as possible. Before he could so much as get up, however, he was suddenly slammed against the wall. The blonde immediately began to cry and whimper as the hold on his neck tightened.

 

“S-stop!” He coughed as his legs flailed out wildly. “H-Hurts!”

 

The other leaned down close and the smell hit him. It was more disgusting than a dead animal, reeking of death and sorrow. He almost expected to see bugs crawling on the demon, on his face and out his eyes, and was more than surprised when he didn’t spot any. Jimin went limp as the feeling of absolute hopelessness filled him, small hands reaching up shakily to grasp onto the claw like digits wrapped around his throat. If the demon’s touch was light before, it sure must have been an act.

 

“It’ll hurt more, little one, when he gets his hands on you,” He whispered it so quietly, like in fear that someone else would hear.

 

Jimin was released none too gently then, sliding down the wall pathetically. “W-who,” He asked just as softly before he could stop himself, reaching up to massage the sore skin on his throbbing throat.

 

A look of fear passed through the demon’s face before it smoothed over once again and he sneered down at Jimin’s shivering form.

 

“You don’t want to know,” He began, but a distant sound interrupted him. His entire body seized up and he looked down at Jimin uncertainty. Suddenly, like a switch was flipped, the man’s face molded into a gruesome expression.

 

“Get out,” He said murderously, adding on quietly. “ Before it's too late.






Jimin woke up a sweaty mess. Blonde hair matted to his forehead, limbs aching with phantom pains, all of the signs of a nightmare. He reached over shakily for his phone and opened it quickly. He vaguely remembers calling Taehyung about the ouija board incident, but after that his memory just... blanks .

 

He checked his recent calls to gather any information on what had happened last night, however, everything regarding the calls he had made that month seemed to have been deleted, along with voicemails.

 

“Weird,” He grunted before throwing it somewhere next to him. The blonde sniffled and dug into the covers, cuddling up into them as if it were Taehyung. He would need to call the other back to see if he had accidentally fallen asleep on him or if he had just been too tired to fully remember their conversation.

 

Glancing at the clock, which read 6:19 am, he began to get ready to open the shop. Shrugging on a light, caramel colored sweater and light washed jeans, Jimin headed towards the kitchen. His tummy growled, begging for something other than ramen for once. Giggling softly, the blonde reached into his mostly empty pantry. He pulled out a packet of brown sugar oatmeal and then on the top shelf, he managed to snag a chamomile tea bag.

 

Sleepily, he put the kettle on the tiny stove to boil. As he waited for the water to bubble, the blonde made his way to the bathroom to brush his hair and put on a little bit of makeup.

 

Makeup was more accepted nowadays on boys than it was, say, a decade ago, but there were still people that genderized the matter. That being said, Jimin was a little anxious whenever he opened shop with it on, even if it was just a bit of foundation. Nevertheless, he dabbed on a bit of concealer and blended out the eyeshadow, adding a swipe of lip gloss to his plump lips to complete the look.

 

He observed his finished appearance in the mirror, turning this way and that. He had to admit, he looked quite cute. Jimin smiled as he went to wipe a smudge of the glittery eyeshadow away from his neck, wondering how it had gotten down there.

 

He gasped, the tube of lipstick that had been clutched in his hands dropping with a dull thud. Around his neck were faint, but surely there, bruises. A memory hidden deep in his mind tugged at the edges of his consciousness and his eyebrows furrowed, confusion filling him. All of a sudden he felt heavy, as if there was something important he had to remember. Anxiety ridden, the blonde nervously opened up the tube of makeup.

 

A little twinkling of fear filled him as he began to cover up the bruises. It looked like someone had practically choked him, hard enough to leave him breathless and dizzy.

 

After no traces of the blue skin could be seen, he tenderly patted the area. A twinge of pain shot through him and he winced slightly but continued to press. Jimin just couldn’t imagine when or how he would get these, or who would choke him for the matter.

 

‘It’s the ouija board,’ A voice whispered in the back of his head and he rolled his eyes. The blonde was scared of it, yes, but certainly not that afraid of it to blame something very tangible happening on something so trivial.

 

Right?






Jimin ended up bringing his breakfast downstairs because he was running late in opening up, rushing back and forth to water plants and rearrange pots. It took about thirty minutes to even set up before he managed to flip the closed sign to open. The small blonde flitted throughout the shop, his nightmare and other incidents forgotten as he lost himself to the energy of the plants. The sweet fragrance of the flowers filled him with happiness and he began to hum under his breath, sweeping the floors with a sway of his hips. The bell above the door rang, signifying a customer, and Jimin looked up with a smile. He opened his mouth to great the person, but faltered when he saw none other than Jeon Jeongguk.

 

“Good morning, Jeongguk-ssi,” He bowed politely, getting over his initial wariness. The broom handle clenched tightly in one hand, he set it to the side and made his way over to the front display.

 

Jeongguk shifted nervously as he answered back a soft “Good morning,”. The brunette approached where Jimin was, the shorter male moving around different flowers in an attempt to make it aesthetically pleasing to the eye.

 

“Jimin-ssi,” He started awkwardly, timid voice suddenly loud in the large room. “Can I...Can I ask you a question?”

 

Jimin put the white roses he had been inspecting down, looking up at the taller man curiously. “O-of course?”

 

It came out as more of a question but the answer seemed sufficient enough because Jeongguk took a steadying breath.

 

‘Oh god,’ Jimin thought faintly. ‘Please don’t be asking me out.’

 

The shorter had had many, many proposals of dating opportunities, but he had always turned them down. The blonde hadn’t felt he was willing enough to maintain a relationship right now, or at all, until his business had begun to take off.

 

“Is everything okay?”

 

Startled, Jimin jumped a little. “Come again?”

 

Instead of looking agitated at having to repeat his question, Jeongguk seemed to get more nervous. Glancing around as if someone was watching them, he leaned down close to Jimin.

 

“I-is something going on? Is someone harassing you?”

 

Jeongguk looked truly sympathetic, what for Jimin did not know. He looked willingly to take the other in, like he feared for Jimin’s well being.

 

Which couldn’t possibly be true, they had only known each other for what, a day? Two?

 

“I’m fine,” The blonde responded stiffly, but even to him it sounded fake. The other seemed to know, sighing before pulling Jimin to him.

 

“When’s your lunch break?” He asked quietly, breath hot against his ear. Jimin shivered, moving away slightly before answering.

 

“Twelve thirty,” He stuttered out awkwardly. “Why?”

 

Instead of answering his question, Jeongguk just stepped away. “I’ll be here then, Jimin-ssi.”

 

“W-wait!” The blonde called out, hand outstretched as the other began to leave. “What do you mean?”

 

But it was too late, for the brown door was swinging shut by the time the words left his mouth.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Taegi two-shot (11.5k words)

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Chapter Text

Please forgive me.

 

I'm so sorry I've just kind of left this story. When I was first writing it I was so excited but now I just don't know where it's going. I was going to update but as I was overlooking the other chapters I realized how fucking bad this story is.

 

I'm not deleting it, but I won't be updating soon. 

 

Please stay with me but I understand if you leave :((