Mafia.『Jimin x Reader』

-four.

i tried to find one with a knife but i couldn't;hm probably if i searched for "bts knife" i'd probably find namjin cutting onions hmm

Chapter Song Theme (i recommend u listen to this song to feel cool and appreciate the chapter and jimin's awesomeness somehow): "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

Y/N's POV
PRESENT DAY...

"Let me make myself clear." Jimin announced, and pulled out a small pocketknife (he looked pretty lousy with it in my opinion, but he managed somehow), earning a snicker from the crowd. "Whatever you saw did not happen. Of course, for this event, there are only two options: shut the hell up, or die."

I felt my arm pulled (and hopefully not dislocated) and 2 seconds later, I was standing right beside him, or rather with his arm wrapped dangerously around my shoulders, with his pocketknife positioned conveniently on my throat.

"Yeah, I missed you too, Jimin," I managed to choke out.

Jimin's heart was beating too fast. I knew him too well. From the very start, he was a nervous little cinnamon roll. But why? He looked so confident. I decided to keep my mouth shut, and preferably not have a pocketknife up my nose.

I scanned the crowd, but Taehyung wasn't there anymore. The teenage boy from the car from the left had strangely went back inside his vehicle as well, leaving the school girl, and my boyfrie—Jimin. Definitely just Jimin. My best friend. Yeah.

"What are you doing, kid? Put him down," another civilian called.

"I'm calling the police!"

"Put him back here!"

"It's okay, kid, we'll save you."

Jimin whispered under his breath, just loud enough for only me to hear. "When I slash my knife," he started, "I want you to—"

"—die?" I finished. "No, thanks, not even by my old best friend's hands, thank you very mu—"

"That's not what I meant, you idiot," he chided, "I'm saving you over here. Just follow what I say, and stop struggling."

I didn't realize I was punching his arms for him to let me go. Probably a human instinct. I calmed down, and steadied my breath. The crowd was throwing insults at Jimin.

He whispered, low and almost inaudible: "When I slash my knife, you scream in pain and crumple on the ground, facing away from the crowd. You got that?"

"I think that's a g-given." I hadn't realized my teeth were chattering with fear, but I chuckled weakly. "Why are you going to script even my death? Isn't that what all dying people d-do?"

Jimin chuckled as well. "You really are as idiotic as I remember. That isn't what I meant. I'm not really going to kill you. I'm just going to fake it. Fake it till you make it, Y/N."

I gulped. "Y-you are? But what about—"

"No time to explain. To summarize, it's the main purpose of all this, Y/N, we're going to save you. My companions know. Jungkook's kept Taehyungie in the other police car."

"Those lovebirds," I fake-grumbled. "When are we—"

"That's enough!" Another angry civilian yelled out. "Let that boy go, Jimin." (I did not specify it in the comments. The civilian was an old man. How DARE you not have respect for old and very perceptually-challenged, aged men? lmao jk ily im bored and it's 2:37 am)

"They learned my name fast," Jimin muttered under his breath.

Jimin raised his knife, and the civilian's face twisted in pure shock. "You wouldn't dare."

"Say, how long did you say the cut should be?" Jimin mocked (he was a pro at impromptu acting).

"Let. Her. Go!" The civilian screamed.

Jimin put on his signature smirk,  licked his lips, and twirled the pocketknife in his hands (theatrically dramatic, this boy). "Make me."

With those fabulous words, he slit my throat violently with his pocketknife and "killed" me. I crumpled to the ground and mustered the loudest howl of pain I could make. Surprisingly, it wasn't hard—Jimin had slit my throat lightly enough to make it bleed, and it stung like hell, even for such a light wound.

I wriggled my hands in the air, and demonstrated my hands pooling with some of my blood. Jimin eyed me and my act almost proudly, and stared back at the crowd, brandishing his pocketknife—a weapon feared by all (please note my sarcasm). He smiled cheerfully. "Who's next?"

The civilians backed away with fear. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have seen what happened, because my vision doubled, and the scenery turned hazy. The last thing I saw was the barricades being opened and the crowd spreading out into the city once more, as if nothing had happened, and I blacked out.

Because, of course, what other way would be best to celebrate a reunion with your best friend?