Park Jimin Oneshots

Criminals

POTENTIAL TRIGGER: GUN

Jimin loved the feeling of the night air rushing past his skin when he ran. Specifically when he ran away with adrenaline rushing through his veins after he had just robbed a bank or cashier at gunpoint. The hormone was so addicting and that plus the bounty in his backpack was his idea of a great night.

Tonight, he was spending his time doing what he usually does. It had just struck 1 am and he had pulled up to a 24 hour convenience store, his eyes that burned with the familiar nerves and excitement staring into the well-lit shop and waiting for the one customer to leave. The other two guys that he was working with tonight had him rolling his eyes—he never worked with other people, and these morons sitting with him had his patience running thin. Thankfully he saw the customer leave, leaving the cashier staff alone.

"It’s time," he said before hastily getting out of his car, away from the idiots that managed to lower the IQ of the inside of the vehicle. Jimin felt like he had lost a couple of brain cells in there, and he was only partially listening to them. Why had he bothered to get involved with them?

Pulling up his black hood and his face mask, he strut towards the store, feeling for his gun tucked between the waistband of his dark jeans as the others followed him. As soon as he walked in, he raised his gun and yelled at the cashier to step away, while telling the other two idiots to look around for anyone else. Whilst filling his backpack with the money he heard a suspicious rustle in what he presumed was a staff room, the staff that tended the cashier’s eyes had widened as he looked back at them. Scanning the store, the two idiots were still in sight so there must have been someone here. Stalking to the back room with malice he wrenched open the door finding another staff member, a hand-held alarm in their hand.

"Sh*t!" he exclaimed whilst running back to the entrance, already hearing the distant sirens. "You tossers! You had one job!"

He ran out, grinning at the familiar rush of adrenaline, he could be angry at the morons he had chosen to work with this once, but this is what he lived for—if things always went without a hitch, where was the possible risk that fuelled his beating and high heart?

"Hey dude! What about our share?" they yelled after him.

"F*ck you!" he shouted back.

Jimin managed to lose them pretty quickly and found himself running up the motorway, tranquil from the lack of vehicles at this absurd hour. 

While walking along the road, he thought that it was pointless to walk back home, which is back where he came from, so he decided to hitch hike to the next town and lay low. He just had to wait for a car to wave down. Looking up at the sky, a sense of intense chilling calmness shrouded him. His face mask was off by now, allowing him to breath the fresh air. The sky was pitch black and devoid of any stars. He scowled. The least mother nature could do was dot a few stars around, something relatively interesting to look at after the adrenaline had dissolved. A shallow white light from behind him, that was getting brighter, cast low shadows across the tarred gravel which had him looking back and waving his arms widely—a car was coming. It screeched to a halt, the driver obviously not expecting a pedestrian on the side-walk-less roads, less so at this time. Jimin smirked cockily, inviting himself into the passenger seat. Glancing to the side, he saw your confused and petrified state, the sound of slow jazz from the stereo filling the atmosphere. When you didn’t make a move, he looked at you again, his gaze a little sterner.

"Drive."

The stranger’s word was the only thing you needed to do as he said.

"Where to?" you piped up.

If your parents knew you had let a random man into your car, they would be so disappointed. You obviously hadn’t learnt a thing from the stranger danger talks from years ago.

"Just to the next town, love."

He heard you swallow and a thick silence followed, the indefinable tension was a contrast to the smooth sounds of Miles Davis playing through the speakers. But Jimin could only take so much jazz, it wasn’t a genre he enjoyed so his hand reached to the panel of buttons. However before he could touch anything your shaky hand smacked it away. He shot a stunned glare to your side profile, your own eyes still on the road.

"Don’t," you simply said.

Jimin’s brows raised, the end of his lips tugging upwards. "Why?"

"Because the music calms me," you replied, hearing the stranger scoff. "Plus this isn’t your car."

Jimin leaned back into his seat, feeling his gun prod into his side uncomfortably, taking it out of his jeans. "So what are you doing out here at this hour?"

"Driving," you hesitated, deliberately avoiding the no-nonsense look from the man, "what about you?" you asked, and your eyes quickly caught the gun that was obviously causing him discomfort.

He sighed. "Needed a getaway," he slyly avoided answering in detail, but from the dread that paled your face at the sight of the weapon, he knew you were thinking the worst of him, but he didn’t care. In fact he liked this sense of power he felt in that moment. "Now is there any chance I can change the music?" he asked, his smile widening as he pointed the barrel of the gun towards the stereo.

"No."

He tsked. "Fine." He put his feet up on the dashboard, much to your dismay. "And will you calm down? I’m not a murderer," he was getting ever more irritated with the way your hands clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. He could even hear the dry skin rubbing together. Either you were too persistent with your hygiene or…you had naturally dry skin. 

But he was a fool. He read all your signals of fear and nervousness because of him. Well, you were nervous to see the gun, but he’d be an idiot to use it on you while you were driving—that was the one pro that you were hanging on to.

"But seriously," he piped up again. 

You would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so nervous. "What are you doing on the road at almost 3am, with no luggage," he said, checking the seats behind him, I guess you could’ve put something in the boot. He finished more to himself as you side-glanced at him with slightly wide eyes.

"I don’t even know your name so I don’t see why it’s any of your business," you replied defensively.

"Fine, I’m—" he started, facing you again but stopped. If he revealed his name who’s to say you won’t reveal it to the police if they ever caught on, you already know what he looks like. So he shrugged facing the front again. "Perhaps you’re right."

After another half an hour, the both of you still sat, Jimin’s fatigue had started to catch up while you sat there alert. The sound of distant sirens sounded, and panic had your bodies frozen and holding your breath as the ominous blue flashes came closer and closer. But it was an ambulance that drove by, and the relief had you sighing dramatically. Jimin gazed at you perplexedly at you, as he realised that he wasn’t the only one that physically relaxed.

"What were you so nervous for? Only one of us is the criminal here," he grinned, showcasing his gun, his fingers way too comfortable to be fiddling with the trigger.

You stared at him, something suspicious hiding behind your eyes. "You have no idea," you spoke, your voice low and shaky.

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed, baffled at your statement, but all you could think of was the body of your ex in the boot of your car.