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krissewrites · 7 years

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À Triomphe - BTS AU

AU: Art Thief!Bangtan

Description: You are a curator at one of the many museums in Paris, and have finally earned the bosses trust. But after a strange meeting with a new coworker and his friends, you begin receiving messages from an unknown party.

Part: Six / Five / Four / Three / Two / One

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Situations.

Your emotions had settled down, leaving you on the opposite side of Jeongguk’s room as you stared at the floor. You hated being here, and the worst part was no one would tell you why. Jimin had been missing for over a week, leaving a nasty taste in your mouth as you thought of all the things that video, that nightmare, entailed.

Who was it that kept sending me warnings? And why the fuck didn’t I listen? You thought. All of which had led you to this moment, cowering in the corner of a room foreign to you, various chunks of your memory evading you as you tried to make sense of it all. You had begun to bite your fingernails, again; a habit you had dropped ten years ago.

Jeongguk sat on his bed, drawing in a small notebook, taking small glances out the window every once in a while to capture his muse; a small bird perched on a tree across the yard.

There was something off about him, but you couldn’t pin it. He was reclusive but extroverted. He was egotistical and charismatic, but also frigid and distant. His index finger rubbed against the paper, creating a shading effect.

If it hadn’t been for the fact he almost crushed your hand, you might’ve wanted to make small talk, but fear enveloped you. And every second you spent in that room with him was every second you wished you were dead.

You swallowed your pride, voice cracking with anxiety as you spoke up, beckoning for him. “Please tell me,” He turned his head to look at you, eyebrows corrugated as he wondered what you wanted. “Please tell me what happened,”

You looked up from the floor to match his gaze, your breath hitching as you saw his warm glare begin to ice over once more. “It’s not my place to tell you anything.” His voice trailed off as he turned back to his work.

“I feel like I have a right to know what the fuck happened—“ you barked. Jeongguk tightened the grip on his pencil as to try and evade a rising temper. “I would appreciate it if you just shut up, okay?”

You let out your breath, unsurprised to his answer. Jeongguk groaned, tossing his book across the bed as he began to stand up, sauntering towards you. “If you want to talk, Hoseok is across the hall,” He gripped your bicep, pulling you up forcefully as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t like to talk.”

Jeongguk opened the door, pushing you out into the hall before slamming it behind you. You stumbled, catching yourself before hitting the wall adjacent to his door. You rubbed the flannel shirt gifted to you by Taehyung before you had left the hospital before he had restrained you. Your sweatpants were loosely fitted, almost falling down. You quickly tied a knot in the drawstrings before knocking on Hoseok’s door.

You heard indistinct swearing and objects clattering as footsteps trudged closer to the door. The man named Hoseok quickly opened it, slowly looking up as he exclaimed disapproval, “Look, Jin, I’m sorry—“

His beg for forgiveness paused as he looked at you, hair riding just above your ear. “When’d you get a haircut?” He slowly opened his door wider, giving enough space for you to enter. “I—I need to ask you some things,” you mewled.

He closed the door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at you. He bore an oversized blue and yellow letterman sweater, a white shirt, and black sweatpants, various stains covering his outfit. Hoseok sighed, walking away from his door and through his messy floor back towards his computer seated in the corner of his room on a small black desk.

The walls to his room were painted dark, mimicking a beige tone. His floor, although hardwood, was barely visible as clothes, magazines, and other miscellaneous objects were strewn across it.

God, how can someone live like this?

“Jeongguk didn’t want to talk, I assume,” Hoseok snickered to himself, rubbing the back of his neck as he scrolled through an online forum. “He’s a wild card, isn’t he?”

His attention stayed glued to the screen, not once turning back to look at you as you stood, unsure of what to do, unwilling to invade his space.

“What did you want? I’m a little busy,”

You fidgeted, remembering why you had been sent across the hall. “What happened to me? Why was I in the hospital?” Your mind began to trail off as question upon question sped out of your mouth. “Where’s Jimin? Why can’t I leave? Why won’t anyone tell me anything?” Your voice grew higher in pitch as you became more panicked, falling back onto Hoseok’s bed as you began to tug at your hair.

Hoseok turned in his chair, staring at you worriedly. “Hey, calm down…” he murmured, slowly standing up as he walked over to you, promptly sitting beside you. “Stress won’t help your head, you know?”

His half-handed attempts at consoling you, as expected, didn’t work. He let out a long sigh, resting his elbows on his knees as he began to fiddle his thumbs. “Our boss told Taehyung to take you to the hospital—he used a pseudo name, so please don’t try to go back and get records—and he was instructed to keep an eye on you for as long as you stayed there, posing as your husband.”

Hoseok began to unravel the story, keeping his voice down. You could feel the fear he had; he knew someone had to be listening. “Jimin is away on business, in Spain. He goes there often; please don’t worry about him.”

Hoseok stood up, walking towards his door as he turned the knob. “You can’t leave. Just leave it at that,” he growled, forcing himself to open and door and walk away from the conversation, leaving you alone while he walked across the hall. You heard him open the door to Jeongguk’s room, and promptly closing it behind him. You were alone once more.

You brought your knees to your chest, clawing at the fabric wrapped around them as to save your sanity. “I want to go home,” you wept.

Ding.

The music note rang throughout the room, a voice following behind it.

“You’ve got mail!”

Hoseok had a fairly new computer, one in almost pristine condition, you would say. But there on the screen was a graphic every adult was familiar with. A small letter danced in the corner of the pop-up, ‘One New Message’ dancing across the screen.

You stood up, walking slowly past a window placed between the bed and desktop. You bent over, pressing your palms against the edge of the small desk as you glanced over the dated graphic.

“You’ve got mail!” It sang.

You clicked okay.

In a matter of seconds, an abundance of messages popped across the screen. Amidst the middle of the turmoil was a small video.

Press Play To Download iMovie

You glanced over your shoulder, hoping Hoseok had busied himself enough not to walk in as you prompted through his private computer. You turned back to the screen. You clicked play.

Noise erupted from a desktop as a grainy film began to play, slowly clearing up to reveal an image; a young man sitting in front of you, grinning as he began to speak.

“I didn’t want to show my face, but you’re not the best at following directions.”

He sighed, cupping his face in his palms as he began to tap his cheeks. “Maybe I can get through to you this way?”

You furrowed your brows, your breathing picking up the pace as you grew confused. “I’m not going to tell you my name because you don’t need to know it,” he quickly ran through his lines, “but you need to know that they’re lying.”

He leaned in closer to the screen, his cat-like eyes glaring at you behind a curtain of black, flimsy bangs. “You’ll end up like Jimin.”

Images of the shootout followed suit behind him, following with flashing headlines dated October 31st, November 2nd, November 3rd. All read the same, disgusting line. “Jimin Park caught by cops, trial process to begin soon.”

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat as the cat-eyed man continued with his tale. “He asked me to help you, and I am… although I wanted to help you in the first place,” his voice hummed. “He risked his life for you.”

Cat-eyes stared at you, his eyes narrowing. You felt that he saw through you completely; he seemed to know everything. “The least you can do is get out.”

You watched as his eyes lingered to the left, leading you to follow them; the window sat there, unlocked. A perfect time.

“Let’s see if you’re as stealthy as him.” You heard him laugh, a sense of delusion resonating within.

The screen glitched for a moment, before quickly residing back to Hoseok’s previous page.

‘The Newest Pet’

You, although feeling disgusting, continued reading through the page

BigBoy287: God I’d rail her. [9:23] J-Hope: i’m sure she wouldn’t like you, kyungmin [9:25] SirBdsm: like u kno her taste asshole [9:26] J-Hope: i took the picture, did i not? [9:30]

You felt your stomach flip as you realized just how much you knew about these men; nothing. You felt dirty, itching at your skin to wash away the filthy memory. You abruptly pushed yourself away from the desk, walking backward as you tried to gain some sense.

You could do it. It was as easy as opening the window and crawling out. You could run for help, and never have to deal with this again. It would all be a nightmare.

You fidgeted with the lifting mechanism on the window, slowly pushing up the seemingly rusted panel. It showed signs of age as paint chips began to call upon moving. It was clear it wasn’t opened for a long time.

You held the window up, bringing your foot up to the edge, taking one last breath in this hell house.

The door quickly opened, Jin walking in with his phone in his hands, “Yah, since you ruined my playtime, you should buy me th—“ Jin looked up at the scene before him, watching you as your legs were out the window, hands still holding the panel above your head. You cursed under your breath, hastily fighting your own strength as you tried to push yourself out.

Jin laughed to himself, rushing towards the window as he wrapped his arms around your chest, pulling your back into his. Your hands lost grip, causing the window to fall abruptly onto your hip. You screamed as a wave of pain washed over you.

Jin pulled you back into the room, tolerating your writhing beneath him. His strength level was miles above yours. Jin chuckled to himself, tightening his grip on you as he buried his head into your neck. “You weren’t going to leave me, were you?” His low, threatening voice coated your skin in goosebumps. You pressed your palm against his head in an attempt to push him back; he merely mocked you.

Hoseok and Jeongguk opened their door, staring at the scene before them. “Jin, do you not fucking learn anything?”

Jin rose his head from your neck, smirking as he pushed you towards Hoseok. You fell to your knees, panting before Hoseok’s feet as you held your waist, wincing as the pain grew worse. “Our little girl here tried to run away,” Jin cackled, clapping his hands together at the thought. “And to think, haha, that you could outrun us!” Jin began cackling, an end seeming to be nowhere in sight.

Jeongguk grunted, staring down at you. “Now you’re just begging for it, (Y/N).” His voice haunted you as it replayed through your thoughts. “Jin, can you watch her for me? I’m going on an errand.” Jeongguk took one las, heated look as he towered of you, before turning on his heel.

A sadistic smile crept across Jin’s face as he stared down at you. Hoseok’s face contorted in humility as he watched Jin close in on you. “Oh, Hoseok,” Jin spoke softly as he lifted you up, careful not to touch your hips. “Try not to cause a scene this time, okay?”

Jin placed his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you forward as you both left Hoseok’s room. Hoseok stood in silence, watching as you slipped from his small, insignificant net of safety.

Hoseok knew he was the last sane one in that house, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

Jin pushed you into his room, closing the door behind him. You backed yourself into a corner, watching as he paced across the room, gazing at you with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Who are you?” You whispered.

Jin sneered, sighing as he threw his head back, rolling it side to side. His neck popped twice. “I’m Jin. And who are you?” He took a step closer, his hands in his pocket.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“What? Can’t I be a little playful? I told you, I’m not the kind of guy you think I am,”

Another step.

“I thought you were a friend,” you muttered. Guilt soaked your tone of voice.

“There are two types of friends in my life, (Y/N)—“

Another step.

“—The type I hug,”

Another step.

“and the type I hurt.”

He glided his crooked fingers across your cheek, reaching around the back, bearing pressure on your head wound. You winced, sucking in air sharply. Jin removed his hand, combing his fingers through your hair. “I’d really like it if you were both, baby.” Jin leaned in, his lips targeting yours.

You turned your head, your cheek pressing aginst the wall as you tensed up. Jin groaned, “God you’re a fool.” He moved his hand to your neck, pressing his thumb against your throat. “You’ll realize sooner or later that you’re safer with me than any of the others.”

Jin yanked his hand back, stumbling backward as he brushed his fingers through his hair, and falling onto his bed. His feet stay grounded as his back pressed into the mattress. His chest rose and fall under his pink sweater, which had ridden up to give a peak of his sculpted stomach on the impact of his fall.

You hastily reached for the door, turning the knob as efficiently as possible before rushing yourself out of his room. You panted as you pushed yourself against the door, hoping that the more forceful you shut it, the quicker you’d wake up. You pressed your head against the coated wood.

“Please wake up, please wake up.” You begged.

The orange jumpsuit pressed against his skin, the uncomfortable fabric causing a mild itch. His hands were bound before him in metal, a headache washing over him.

“The trial of the century is about to begin as we hear from Jimin Park, the criminal behind the burglaries and murder’s plagueing—“ The reporters gave their speech remarkably as cameras zoned in on the disgruntled man. His hair was a shaggy mess, and his eyes were swollen from nights spent awake in his cell.

“Let us get this hearing started,” A woman cloaked in an all red, deeply embellished fur robe sat in her seat. She hit her gavel against the wood before her, calling for attention. “Mr. Park, it’s nice to finally have you in our midst. You’ve made quite the name for yourself,”

A guard cuffed Jimin’s hands to the table before him, assuring no lofty escape would be made.

“Do you have anything to say before we begin?”

Jimin, who had been staring at his sweating palms, gained a wry smile spreading across his cheeks as he looked up. His eyes were watering. “No, your honor.”

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