#yoongi angst

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DESTINY ♡

When your whole world revolves around one boy, but destiny sets you with a unexpectedly expected man.

Pairing:Yoongi × reader ft. Jimin

Genre:brother’s friend, only old crush, heartbreak, college oc au.

Summary:you’re over him, a new world sets in front of you. But the heartbreak you both got at the same time is not what you have had thought of. It must be the destiny to set you with your only old crush Yoongi. But still you ain’t prepared for the third heartbreak in a row, what if he breaks your heart again?

Warnings:fluff, mild smut, angst, heartbreak, like flooded with tears, oc is so sweet, confusion, misunderstanding,  crush , breakup, traitor, betrayal, brother’s bestfriend, roommate, college oc, angst shower smut, smokey, dirty talk, seokjin is oc’s brother, he’s a dick, yoongi is a Heartbreaker, jimin is also a dick, expectations ruined, one-shot.

Word limit:6.5k

Author’s note :besties, here’s the new fic of Yoongi. Spare sometime of your to read this piece of beauty and let me know if you guys need a part 2 and how much you loved it. Kindly apologizing for not editing it cause it’s already so late. Remember I always love you <3

MASTER LIST

♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱♡˖꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱

“I’m done with you, dude.” You screamed at your brother and ran into your room. You have been mad at your brother since so long. You both never get along. Fights, quarrelling and being mad at each other is both of your favourite things. You never want to live with your brother during your college years but only for the sake of your parents you were there sharing apartments with your brother. If you get any chance you would change your apartment.

“Stop overreacting, I’ll be home till night. Enjoy yourself.” Your brother said slamming your door. He was never in the house, always out there having fun with girls, alcohol and money. This is what he called life and you totally were different from him. You’re more conserved, introverted and only allow certain people in your life. But here you’re happy that atleast the whole house is yours now. You can watch Disney weird fantasy movies or eat pineapple pizza without being judged. At night after he left for partying you ordered a big size pizza and started watching the saddest movies to cry.

At the mean time of your crying session, you heard a ding bell sound at the doorstep. It’s almost two at the morning and you were confused who’s now. But at your surprise it’s you brother walking inside the house with one more person just like him. You saw him, but he was head down walking inside but you guessed it right. In the black jacket it was Min Yoongi. Your brother’s friend or kind of used to be classmate. You have been seeing him from the starting years of college. And now you’re almost at the end of the year. The person right before seems sad and num. But it was not a surprising thing cause everytime you meet Yoongi he looks so sad and calm. No emotions can be read from his expression.

“I guess you’re too early to come home!” You glared at your brother who settled himself at the couch, beside him Yoongi takes his sit.

“None of your business, girl. And why are you up this late, huh? Again watching your weird fantasy movies.” Your brother hummed.

“Yo, bitch. Don’t interfere in my life. Just go, I’m in the middle of something.” You ranted.

“Y/n language! Haven’t you seen Yoongi sitting right here? A guest is in the house and you’re talking to me like this?” Your brother glared. Yoongi just scoffs still head down.

“Let me clear this to you. Yoongi’s girlfriend kicked him out of there shared apartment. So, for few days or weeks he’ll be here with us until or unless there fight get resolved.” He said.

“None of my business though.” You rolled your eyes still focussing on the television screen.

Yoongi in his deep voice “we soon gonna be together again. Thanks Seokjin for giving me shelter.” Both of the boys then straight up walked into the rooms and you were there ending the last scenes.

From the starting years living with your brother Seokjin, you always met with all his friends. Yoongi was also one of them. But he was the one whom you talked the most in his group circle. Yoongi seems so calm and intelligent to your eyes. He was also a good listener while a great adviser. You both added each other in every social media platforms you were present. You almost talked with him daily the past years. But the sudden change that developed in him was still unknown to you. You didn’t get what ghosted him but this past few months he randomly stopped talking to you. No in person talks, no messages or neither calls. He even blocked you from all his social medias. You thought he was mad at you for something but you never get it for what. You tried asking him what’s the matter of not talking or having no contact with you randomly. But he never answered it in a right way. Neither did you exaggerated the matter. As told you were very picky about the people in your life. If somebody don’t want to have contact with you then it’s his loss. You’re always there to help anyone and everyone you know.


The very next day, you were excited to meet with your new crush Jimin. He’s new to your campus for few months and you both became good friends with eachother. He seems so cool to your eyes. Never did you think of dating anyone from your college but if it’s about Jimin then you can’t say no to it. He’s kind and fun guy to goof around. But the thing that make your heart flutter was his flirty side. The way he acts like he’s in love with you with all his picky lines on you. You can’t denied that you liked it, really every much. Your heart always pound whenever he goes all flirty with you. But you also can’t deny the fact that he seems flirty with all the other girls in the campus. Kind of like the new fuck boy in the college. Sad for you that at last you did fall for the flirty kid.


“ Jimin! How’s your day going bub?” You yelled at Jimin who was standing there flirting with some other girls.

“Y/n beautiful! You’re becoming more beautiful day by day.” Jimin walk up to and said.

“Ahh you boy! Shut up. Any plan for this weekends?” You asked.

“As you know our college last year gonna end in this month. So, I’m quite busy.” Jimin sighed.

“Yeah, but I’m excited for our graduation day. But Jimin I’m gonna confess something before our graduation day to you.” You whispered in his ears.

“Oh-okay. What’s it about can I ask?” Jimin hesitantly said.

“Meet me at the basket ball court at evening in this weekend. Okay?” You excitedly said.

“I-i will be there. But if anything necessary then you can tell me now.” Jimin asked.

“Patience Jimin. Don’t forget to come.” You winked at him and walk straight up to your house.

You were really happy that finally after taking a whole one year you now gonna confess to Jimin. Your heart saying that he gonna accept you but your brain already shown you some red flags. But you just ignored it. After denying for so long, now your feelings for him was strong and directive. You can sense it. Before the end of the graduation day you decide to confess the feelings. As you believe in ‘if you like someone, let them know how you feel for them’ philosophy.

You open the door of your living room, at your surprise a whole shirtless Yoongi was sitting at the couch watching his favourite football. His dark strands of hair was wet and a towel was hanging at his shoulders. The track pants which he was wearing was quite unrecognisable as the only thing you concentrated was on his pale smooth white skin. You can’t deny his beauty. He was unknowingly beautiful. His cheek bones, cat eyes and gummy smile. At the sound of the door he quickly trail his eyes on you.

You screamed “dress up, you naked man.”

Yoongi just rolled his eyes on you and put on his shirt and said “I’m not even naked. Haven’t you seen a shirtless man before?”

“S-sorry sir! But I’m not habituated to see a whole naked man in my house everyday.” You hesitantly exaggerated your words and sit at the corner couch.

“Then get habituated.” He said with a straight face almost focused on the sports.

You don’t seem to reply at his last words. Your eyes trail down to find your brother, who was nowhere in the house. You already figured it out again that he had gone to somewhere as most of the time he was not home when you came back from college.

“Have you seen my brother?” You asked Yoongi.

“I don’t know might me out of the home.” Yoongi said. Your inner brain was screaming that you also know that when Seokjin was not at home he was probably out of the house. You sighed at his words.

Hearing your frustrated sound, Yoongi looked at you and goes like “you can watch now, I’m good at the room.” And he get up from the couch and walked towards the room.

“hey! Yaa! Stop, you can watch. I’m not frustrated because of you. Come here.” You yelled at him.

Yoongi calmly come and sit at the exact spot. You were constantly looking at him but he say no to eye contact. With his baby eyes he was looking at the screen. The surrounding filled with the whistle of football match. You don’t know what to say to him. You were still thinking of starting a conversation but you don’t know how. But you want to ask that person beside you that why he was ignoring the hell out of you. You missed him, you accepted. Before even catching those feelings we cuts you off. You already added him in your good relationship bucket list. But he tend to follow the opposite both. Your eyes are kind of stuck at him without even realising.

Yoongi scoffs “you can stop staring. I’m feeling uncomfortable.”

His deep voice fetch you to the reality and you stumbled “umm.. i-i was just. S-sorry, can we talk?”

For the first time Yoongi’s eyes lands on you. You both made an eye contact for mili second until or unless Yoongi broke it. He goes “for what? I think I should go.”

“This is what I’m talking. Why did you just cut me off from your life, Yoongi. I mean what’s happened suddenly you stop talking to me?” You sighed.

“Is I’m not talking to you now?” Yoongi glared at you.

“You also know what I’m talking. You blocked me from every social media handles. Even you didn’t replied my texts. Why are you mad at me, Yoongi?” You said with a worried face.

“I was quite distrub from the past months. Might be because of that. We’re good.” Yoongi cleared it.

“No, we ain’t. The past months you only ignored me. I saw you attending each and every party. And you’re looking quite happy at that time” Your voice raised.

“Tell me, why you want to talk to me? Why you need me? Why you can’t resist me? Is you’re feeling for me? Do you wanna have something with me?” Yoongi screamed some unusual questions which you never thought of.

The question stuck to your head. When he asked you all this, you also questioned yourself. Why actually you want to talk to him. You realise you’re expecting something from. But it was also right your heart carries some part of love for him at that time might be now too. But the way Yoongi yelled at you, you’re expecting that.

“Min, are you okay? Is everything good? I know you and your girlfriend have a fight going on and I know how you feel. But that doesn’t mean you would shout at me like that.” You sighed.

“No, I’m not okay, y/n. I don’t know what’s happening. I can’t understand my feelings right now. My girlfriend is cheating on me at one hand and at another my feelings are growing for someone else. It feels like I’m cheating. But I ain’t a cheater, y/n.” Yoongi broke down. His deep voice mixes with some tearing emotions but he tried hard to not express.

Yoongi feels like he was the cheater because of you. The truth is he really likes you. That he can’t resist to talk to you. That whenever he saw you, he wants to wrap you around his body. Even when he have a girlfriend, you filled him with joy. Even having someone to love, he need you to be in love. You make him go crazy. But he knows it’s all wrong. That catching feelings for someone else instead of having a girlfriend is wrong. So, the best solution he found was to cut you off. Only for this reason he stopped talking to you. You feels like a complete stranger to him.

Still it didn’t work. At the times he talked to you he always stay happy and focussed but after cutting you off he seems sad most of the time. Also he feels so frustrating at times and fight with anyone and everyone he saw. That’s also a reason that after stop talking to you he and his girlfriend have fight most of the time. And after a long series of fighting and quarrelling with each other, his relationship becomes toxic as hell. He wants to scape out of the place. So, he did. But destiny have different plans, after pushing you so far. Atlast he came back at your arms only. Now, he was sitting beside you. You’re trying your best to confront him.

“Min, calm down. I’m here. I’ll not abandoned you. Tell me everything.” You quitely whispered in his ears while talking his hands on yours. His cold hands fit yours and it felt good.

“Thanks y/n. Sorry for everything I did to you. I’m the worst. I broke your heart and I also cheated on my girlfriend. Even though I know she was cheating on me since so long.” Yoongi calmly put his each word.

“No, you’re best. She’s cheating on you first. And feeling for someone else doesn’t make you cheater, Min.” You confronted him.

“You don’t understand. Right now in my life, I want somebody to hold be tight, to love me like I do and to protect me. No one in this earth loves me.” Yoongi frustrated and smack the pillow beside him.

You can’t hold how sad and frustrated he was that time. You never have seen him in like. He was broke, totally broke. You glanced at him and hugged his huge posture which was unstable. But with presence of your hugging body it get calm and the huge body turns down to small. He completely fitted between your arms. You patted his back, he didn’t argued to back off from the hug neither did he hold you back. You were just there holding him and confronting him. Seeing him like this you also got broke.

“I’m here, Yoongi. See, I’m holding you, loving you and even confronting you. Don’t even say those words. I care for you.” You said calmly still holding him in your arms like a baby.

His cologne smells like you’re in a mountain and forest. With each time going you like wrapped him around. He quietly sitting like a baby.

“Remember if the relationship is getting toxic, calls it a off. And if you like someone else and your feelings are genuine then let the person know it. Tell her that how much you feel for her. I know you will.” You geniunely said. He back off from your hug and nodded it a yes.

“And what if the person seems so close to me that knowing I like her, she’ll be surprised. And she also broke my heart.” Yoongi asked.

“I promise she’ll not. Just be brave and tell her your feelings. Not all people are heartbreaker like you.” You giggled to calm the situation down.

“You aren’t a heart break, huh?” Yoongi asked and you laughed at him.

As the atmosphere becomes a little lighter Seokjin your brother walks inside the room. Unknowingly you were around Yoongi’s arms and he was half heartedly hugging you. As your brother entered you both sit apart acting like nothing happens.

You glared at him and shouted “where were you brat?”

Seokjiin narrowed his eyes “language! You don’t need to know that. But let me tell you, for the rest of this week days you have to be alone as I’m leaving for a business trip.”

You excitedly said “really? Thank god! I’ll have my alone time now.” You love to be alone and as said you hated your nosy brother.

Seokjiin frowned “hold on girl! Don’t ever dare to think of bringing your boyfriend Jimin at this house.”

He then looked at Yoongi and goes “Min, can you please have an eye on my little sister. Don’t let her bring any boy.” Yoongi nodded but with a confusing face.

The last time your brother was not home, you bring Jimin and some of his other friends in your house. And to be honest it was a disaster. Next day your house smells like a pond of alcohol and smoking junction. Unfortunately your brother comes home at the wrong time and see all of those. He even saw how Jimin flirted with you and from then onwards he hated him.

You yelled “he isn’t my boyfriend.” But you slowly whispered to yourself “but he’ll be soon.”

“It’s better if he’s not. That boy is a dick. If you ran around him like that he surely gonna break your heart. Cut him off from your life.” Seokjiin said as packing his stuff.

“None of your buisness, brat. Have fun weekends. Me and Yoongi will also have fun.” You laughed devilishly.

Seokjiin moved all his clothes and necessary things in his suitcase and you say a bye to him. Well, sometimes you love your brother in real. But most of the time you hate him because of him being correct always. As for now, he already predicted that Jimin gonna broke your heart but you know Jimin really very well. He’s a sweetheart in your eyes who is so soft to broke anyone’s heart. This time you gonna prove your brother wrong by confessing Jimin. Your guts were telling you that your doing something right and should go on.

You two were alone in a house full of rooms. But it didn’t feel different as Yoongi entered in his room as soon as Seokjin left and you all visited your room to complete graduation studys. You were quite pressurized for the day but happy that you gonna confess to Jimin tomorrow. A perfect proposal you dreamt of . Long basketball court where you and he will be standing all alone and some butterflies kicking in your stomach.

Here Yoongi in his room ingrossed into his long fluffy blanket. His mind was full of you. He can’t stop thinking about you. All he need is you and you. His heart was playing some sort of games to go in your room and kiss your lips. When you were hugging me in the couch his eyes were constantly trailing down to your lips. He can’t resist his desire to kiss on that peach soft lips that taste like berries. He already know how you’ll taste. Your fragrance, soft skin, long finger, smooth hairs drives him crazy. It’s not like he was attracted to you for the first time . Whenever you come nearer to him, he can sense his hormones bobbing out of his nerves. He liked you, he knows. The only thing that stopping him was his bothered self. He wasn’t sure if you also feel the same, but he knows you feel the exact same. Without resisting his desires he got straight up from the bed and walk up to yours.

You were strolling down your eyes within the gigantic piles of pages right before you. He peep through the door to see your face. Your hair strands lacking his view and your frustrated face increases his rage. He liked you, he can’t see you like this. He does a sigh sound closing his eyes, which shifted your attention. You were no longer interested in your books but the person peeping you through the door interests you more.

You calmly open the door and whispered in his hear “do you need something, Yoongi?”

He got shuttered to your cat voice and stumbled “umm.. y-no. Actually you look so frustrated!”

You does a small laugh and said “graduation studies! It’s frustrating.”

He nodded his head looking at the floor and then said “if you’re okay, then we can watch some movies?”

You frowned your eyes in a playful manner “i can’t say no to you but -”

Yoongi intreuppted you “no buts. Living room in 10.” He turned to his room.

You chuckled on his cuteness. Well, if Jimin didn’t entered your life then Yoongi have been the one you would die on. You liked him from the every first of your college days. You haven’t met anyone as calm and as loyal as him. But presence of his girlfriend broke you down. You don’t want to interfere in his relationship. But as for now, he was in a verge of breaking up with his girlfriend. If you still have that active Yoongi loving bone in your body then you would have said everything to him. But fate have different plans.

The couch was cozy, the room was dark with various beam of light from television echoes. Freash buttery popcorn lined by your side. You were half lying on the couch beside Yoongi who was calmly looking at the movie you choosed. For sure you have your own romantic taste in movies. And he can’t say no to you. You were stealing some glance of him in the name of watching movie. He’s ethereal. You again felt the same butterflies when you used to talk to him. Again the feelings were kicking your stomach. You are liking it. Your sudden urge to touch him filled your heart but your mind keep debating about Jimin.

“Yoongi!” Your soft voice echoes the background.

He looked at you but his eyes were on your peack lips “umm…?”

“Are you liking this movie? If not then we can change it.” You hesitantly said.

“Loving it so far. Romance is never my thing but you made it mine now.” Yoongi softly chuckled again stick his eyes to the screen. But the one thing you don’t know that his focus never shifted from you. He also sees how badly you want him but no one makes a move.

“Can you pass me the blanket, Min?” You again grapped his attention. He gently took the blanket and cover your legs and torso. You both were just centimetres away. You shifted a little close to him to feel the heat. He smiled at you.

“Thanks, Min. You want the blanket?” You asked nervously. Without any hesitation he unfold the whole blanket and cover both you. You gently smiled at him. There was a big silence echoing your heart. You want to make the move to kiss him, to touch him and to play with his hairs. And that was when stopped when you actually did while there was a kissing scene going on .

You gently grapped his thighs and rubbed it slowly. “It’s cold here.” You slowly yet seductively said.

“Umm! Yes!” He nodded and pressed his cold hands on your bare legs. He also does the same thing you did.

But soon his hands trail upward inside from your loose shorts. He’s circling inside your inner things. His finger nails form a line in your inner thigh. You were loving that feeling. As soon as you put your hands out of his thighs, he makes a unsatisfied sound.

“Umm?” You looked at him innocently with a devilish thought. Both of your eyes met at once.

“Can I kiss you?” You hesitantly asked.

As soon as you ended the sentence his lips are already on your neck. This smooth lips does a great job in your bare neck area. He was gently kissing , devilishly sucking and you were pleasantly moaning his name. He kissed your collar bone and your pale skin turns to violet in seconds. He pressed you in the couch and lean over you. But you want his lips on yours.

The moment was made for Yoongi, he slowly takes his time to respond each and every moans of your. His lips were playing with your skin. Happily sucking each corner of your neck. Soon the realisation stuck him and he was now concentrating on your lips. Took a few times to glance at your lips while massaging your hair with one hand. He pressed his lips on your sharp jaw line. You were enjoying ever bit of it.

'Jimin’ this name echoed in your brain. That few minutes you can’t proceed, before you it was Yoongi but your heart his on Jimin’s hand. You can’t betray him like this. You have a deep feeling for him. You thought you were doing wrong, it was wrong. You can’t sleep with anyone like this. The realisation make you push Yoongi so hard.

He was at a verge of kissing your lips but the sudden push was unexpected for him. He got shuttered and hold the other side of the couch. He looks at you in a awe. You were looking at him in a deep guilt. Your face was telling you that it was wrong.

“What’s happened?” Yoongi innocently asked and came forward to you.

“Don’t touch me! It’s wrong.” You yelled at him as you run towards your room.

You heard him shout at you for what’s the matter or why you suddenly reacted like that as you’re the one you wanted all of this. But blaming and treating him like that, he felt so miserable. He realised that you ain’t the random hook up for only one night but he carries deep feeling for you. He should be sorry, he was wrong he accepted. But reacting like that was so astonishing for him.

Yoongi pushed your door and shouted for you. But there you were lying senselessly at your bed. Your face was pale and heart with a heavy weigh of guilt. You shouldn’t act like a kid. You wanted all of that, you started it and not him. You were wrong, but you haven’t the courage to tell him why you did that to him. Maybe tomorrow, you can tell him that Jimin was all over your head that time.

“Yoongi, can I explain this to you tomorrow. Please, leave me alone.” You yelled at him across the door.

Yoongi sighed “sure, I also have something to explain you. I can wait.” And he sadly walked at his room.

The whole night Yoongi’s mind keep on thinking about you. He can’t any more relay his feelings to himself. He needs to tell you what he feels for you. That he don’t think you as a one time hook up but a forever home. He decides to tell you his genuine feelings tomorrow as soon as you’re good to talk to him.

Tomorrow arrives, your guilt was eaten you up badly. Without wasting your time you walked to Yoongi’s room. You already prepared your words what you will tell him. That you like Jimin and that you can’t break his trust. Also you should be sorry for the last night because you make a move first but you were also the same person who weirdly ran off without saying anything.

“Yoongi! Can we talk?” You said glancing at the floor that shows you felt guilty.

He was still on his bed half asleep, in his rapsy voice “are you okay?”

“Y-ye.. n-no. I’m not. I really felt so bad for last night.” You stumbled.

“It’s completely okay. Consent is more important than anything. But -” Yoongi got intreuppted by you.

“No, I want to do. I mean I’m sorry. There is a reason why I didn’t want to have anything now with you.” You slowly mumbled.

“I understand. I’m good, don’t worry.” Yoongi yawned. You felt everything goes back that it use to and you left for your college. But the midway of his room Yoongi called you again.

“Excuse me, if you’re not in a hurry can I tell you something?” Yoongi was no more a half dead human but his tone shifted to seriousness.

“Sure, anything important?”

“Well, let’s have a sit. It’s important for me.” You sat at the edge of his bed.

“Oh! You okay?”

“Something is really eating me up, I don’t know how to tell you but I think I really feel attached to you. You does feel home. Always I think about you. You keep buzzing inside my head. I feel for you… Deeply.” Yoongi patiencely confronted everything. His eyes were glancing at your bracelet as he is bad at making eye contact.

Your eyes were no longer want to hide but you without blinking looked at his pale fluffy face. He like you, he mean he really feel for you, in real. The topsy turvey land appears infront of you. Just right now, you were going to confront to Jimin about his feelings and before that someone else did to you. The heart inside knows that Yoongi never jokes around, he say what he feels. But he still didn’t broke up with his girlfriend and what about those days when he completely cuts you off. You remembered all of this.

“Oh! I-i … Are you serious? You never even want to talk to me. You ignored me, remember?” You ranted angrily.

“Yes, I do ignore you but you know what’s the reason? I feel attracted to you, I can’t resist to talk to you, I always think about you and your little things hurts me easily. But I don’t want to cheat on my ex girlfriend so I simply say a goodbye. Though after all these months you can see where I’m!” Yoongi put over his point nonchalantly.

“Ah! Yoongi? You did all these because of some unfelt feelings! At last you need to tell me. But this is too late. I already feel for someone else.” You nervously ended your words.

“I understand but don’t you also feel the same way at some point? Don’t you also feel attracted towards me?” He passionately glance at you, his high voice pitch echoes all through his room.

“What if I used to do? Now, things are changed.” You screamed.

“Nothing changed. You still have feelings for me. Or else you would not want to fuck me!” The total atmosphere shifted into a peeaceful procession. Yoongi ranted the words which are harsh and real. You do feel the same way he does, but what about Jimin. God have a sinful duty to only designated single soulmate to oneself. You feel for true and you ain’t a traitor.

“Don’t you also? What are you doing at your so called friends house cause your girlfriend kick you out. And middle of your break up you’re hitting on your friend’s sister. Also trying your level best to make her fall for you.” You calmly stated. But your neurons are burning inside.

“And she’s falling for me? Isn’t she?” Yoongi in the heat of the debate flirtatiously walked up to you.

“Yes, she did. But I know I’m not a traitor like you. Now fuck off. Also today I’m gonna confess to Jimin. Pray that he also likes me. Now, good bye.” You pushed Yoongi out of your sight and walk up to the main door.

“May Jimin and you never meet again.” Yoongi chuckled at his words. You only rolled your eyes and left for college.

Fall of the darkness after a heavy heart break take lots of sadness. That numb cold weather with a wreaking heart gives shivering pain in your wholesome heart. You didn’t expected that, you never thought that but initially it happened. He said the most cruel words you never even thought he would know. You cried for the last time he did said 'goodbye’ not with a smiling innocent face but with a smug showing he played with your feelings. The words ’ I’d never even thought of you around my arms’ was spitted  by Jimin. He betrayed you. But the last line stuck to your soul 'do you think I would let you suck my dick, y/n? Haven’t you seen yourself! You’re a pity. Go find someone else to do this shit. Good bye’ and he smirkingly ended your beautiful and hopefull day.

You cried under the dark and cold rainy evening. You just want to ran into your bed and cried for hours that you’re wrong. The heavy rain drenched all your clothes and you. Without waiting for the bus you walked down all the street still numb and overthinking in your head. No one loves you right now, whom do you want to live for? Under the nature’s water your own tears vanished.

It take no time to measure your home distance. You shut the door so loudly that you also got out of those painful thought. You are broke, your heart is. The pain has no bounds. The drenched clothes can’t match your drenched soul. Already the winter rain is eating you up but you need more coldness to be out of this burning world. You cried loudly sitting at the couch. Hearing you Suga came and look a glance at you. He didn’t said anything, just standing there quietly like observing your intentions. You felt his glance, you looked at his pale face with your small eyes. You wanted him to ask you about the pain you’re feeling, about the situation you’re in and about everything which breaks your heart. But you don’t why your heart beating and wanting him to console you. You aren’t about this side of yours. Your feelings are confused more than numb.

’ Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?’ you screamed in your teary voice.

Suga smiled ’ umm! I can see the rejection on your face.’

'shut the hell up. Everything happens because of you. I - I’ you screamed but the ending of your sentences vanished on your heavy crying voice.

Suga walk up to you and sit beside you ’ I understand everything. No need to cry this happens with everyone.’

’ Suga, if you don’t know how to console someone then it best to shut your pity mouth.’ you aggressively pushed him away.

’ Wow girl, is it so? In the morning you also broke my heart in the same way. You don’t know how much I care for you, how much I need you now. But you! You just spit some cruel words and not even regretting. This is how you feel when someone broke your heart.’ Suga bashed on you.

You look dumbfound. You’re processing everything he said but you realized he ain’t right. You need to correct him. 'Why’d you came in my life? Huh! I was so happy without talking to you after you stop talking. I do have feelings for you and you clearly know each and everything. You broke my heart first. And again when I’m finally good with a boy, you came back. You don’t know how much you broke my feelings internally from a long time. And you’re giving me this fucking reason?’ you finished and ran to your room and lock yourself under the cold shower.

Suga just for a whole minute hear your words again. He can’t processed that you liked him before even he does. And the fact that you still have feelings for him. His heart got flutter and a pound of sadness hugs his heart. He felt guilty of treating you like that. But he no more wants to be a heartbreaker. He wants to prove you that he loves you, a lot. And want to promise you that he ain’t like those flirty brat to goof around. He’s the sky of your earth that’s permanent and no one else is allowed here.

He ran towards your room and screamed at the top of his lungs when he can’t see you there 'y/n, I’m sorry!’ You heard his voice but weeped under the shower. Your voice is enough to know where are you. He opened the door of the wash room and saw you under the shower with all your drenched clothes.

'Y/n, what’s wrong? You will get cold.’ he softly said and came towards the shower the knob.

'just get out, Suga. Leave me alone.’ you screamed.

'calm down, let me turn the shower off.’ he said softly as he lean towards you to turn it off.

You pushed him ’ can’t you hear me, leave me alone .You brat!’

Suga tilt a little but he pushed you against the shower wall and pinned you down “shut up. I told you I’m here for you.’ he said in his low cold voice which spend shiver down your spine. You both got drenched in that cold water. The shower is still on and you’re numb by Suga’s dominance.

You look at his fierce eyes and broke down 'I-I am hurt. I don’t want anything.’ He still pinned you down the wall.

He said  'You want me. Don’t you?’ and looked in your eyes.

You’re feelings are peeping out and you can’t withstand the man before you. The gorgeous, tall and broke man said enough to console your feelings. Your eyes can’t resist those plum lips to kiss on. He’s unknowingly hot and you accepted it. You tiptoed and kissed him while your tears are still all over your face.

Suga is deep down kissing you and your whole sad soul. You loved it, you geniunely did. The kiss was intense and passionate. His hands trail down to your head and lean you more to have a perfect kiss which he was imagining for years. Out of breath you broke the kiss and sighed. He himself lean down and put both of your forward together. You both heavily breathed and smiled at each other.

"Thanks.” Suga calmly said.

You look at him with love in your eyes and “I’m not stopping with just a kiss. I’d been thinking about this for over years. Now, that you’re here, I can’t leave you. Just tell me you also carry that deep feelings for me.”

He paused for a moment and complete silence surronds that freezing cold shower leaving you both a hot mess. You again think about doing something nonsense.

Suga take a deep breath “ Y/n, I feel you’re the one I have been loosing for years because you were always there for me to find you. But I never took initiative to find you. Please I really do li- like you. Do-dont ever leave me.”

He stutters and hugged you so hard. The moment filled you with joy but often reality strikes everyone so hard. Under the shower, two humans both in love with eachother having a special moment yet the bang in door wakes both of you up.

Suga hesitantly look outside the shower door to look if anyone was there but again doorbell rang and to both of your surprises, it’s Seokjin.

You are still figuring out if telling your brother about you and Suga is a good option.

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No warnings just angst.

You hadn’t meant to pry. The letter had just fallen out of his pocket when you picked up his coat to leave the studio. The letter that read baby with hearts all around it. You stared at the envelope for a long time deciding whether or not to open it. It’s not Yoongi’s handwriting, so there is no way it’s for you.

Before you get a chance to make your decision your boyfriend walks into the room.

“What have you got there babe?” he looks completely confused by the paper, but your mind has already had enough time to run through all possible origins of letter. It explained everything, the late nights, early mornings, he’s been pulling away. There is somebody else, and this is the proof. You throw the note at him, still unopened, and storm into the corridor. You hear him release an exasperated sigh before chasing after you.

“Stop running away from me would you.” His hand lands on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

“Give me one good reason why I should.” You refuse to look at him, shrugging free of his hold but not running away again yet…

“You didn’t even open it, you have no idea what this is… Don’t you trust me?” he sounds annoyed, but there is something more too it than that, he sounds betrayed. Like he has the right to be upset with you for this.

“A poorly hidden letter, covered in hearts and reeking of cheap perfume seems like a pretty conclusive reason not to!” You twist back on him in time to see him flinch. You rarely yell, not at him. You’re struggling to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He takes a minute to take you in. absolutely seething and ready to run, without even talking about the flimsy ‘evidence’ you’ve found.

“I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” His voice is small, barely loud enough for you to hear despite not being more than arms-width apart. Lack of trust is what made his last relationship fall apart, and you knew that. What’s worse is you used it against him.

“Maybe I’m starting to understand why she left…” it’s completely unnecessary. A way to hurt him like he was hurting you. You don’t know what you were expecting, an admission of guilt, for him to scream at you? Instead he just handed you the letter back and dropped his eyes to the floor. You peeled op the envelop and unfolded the paper

*Jungkook,

You were busy so I thought I’d leave you a note instead, I can’t wait to see you tonight.

Love you so much,

Eunji*

It wasn’t meant for him.

You stand in silence for a moment. Opening and closing your mouth trying to think of the words to say, the words that could fix this, but none came.

“What are you so afraid of?” His question catches you off guard. When you remain speechless, he meets your eyes and continues. “You are always looking for a way out. If you can’t trust me then tell me, because I don’t see a point in continuing a relationship where there is no trust, you can’t build a life on that Y/N.”

“I… I love you.” It’s a whisper, and it’s not enough.

“Love isn’t trust. And if it were really love this argument would’ve never happened. Maybe we should take a break? Decide where we really stand?”

“Wait no, please don’t.” You reach for his hand, but its futile. He pulls out of your reach.

“I’ll call you in a few weeks.” He takes one last look at you and heads back into the studio.

Masterlist

Fic questionnaire

yoonia:

Title | Little Do You Know

Pairings | Yoongi x reader

Summary | With love, comes challenge. Especially when you are in love with the one man who is at the top of the world while keeping you on the other end.

Genre | Artist/Music Producer!Yoongi, Established relationship!au, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Ratings | +18 / M for Mature

Warning | possessive Yoongi, a few events of jealousy, multiple smut scenes, implied public foreplay, clothed foreplay, dry humping, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, rough sex, breast play, biting, clit play, hair pulling, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, self-masturbation (female), clothed sex, car sex.

Word count | 22k words (I’m sorry for this T^T)

Cross post | AO3|Inkitt (coming soon!)

Music companion | Little Do You Know-Alex & Sierra | Youth - Daughter

Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @minyoongail​. | Thank you for giving me a chance to write for Yoongi again. Forgive me for the long wait. I hope you’ll enjoy this story.

THEN…


From the very first night you met Min Yoongi, you were instantly drawn to him.

To describe the moment perfectly, you could easily say that it had happened exactly the way wise people would describe this kind of attraction; that you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

It was an instant pull, the kind of attraction that you had never once felt for another person before. Not to the boys you have dated through college, not even for the hot specimen of a male sitting right next to your cubicle at the office you were attending through your internship.

To this day, you could only faintly recall the events which had led you into getting dragged along to the uncharted territory where Min Yoongi existed. It was Friday night, right on the weekly scheduled night out that you would spend with your friends, when the hours were getting late and the dive bar that you had frequently gone to each week felt too cramped and dull with all the men in suits who came in for a seemingly boring company party while acting like they owned the place.

“It would be fun,” you remembered one of them said as she suggested to try hopping into a different club instead of ending the night early.

Keep reading

Sooooo… i held off as long as I coukd coz i know its going to hurt. I read the teaser so i have an idea how much it will hurt. To be fair to the reader, we all have these kind of thoughts even if you’re not dating a renowned music producer. Its a given in any relationship, and i feel her with her struggles - the feeling of inadequacy, the sort of “power dynamics” (him being famous while her “normal”), the inner monologue of telling yourself that he loves you and that he’s faithful.

My chest was so tight the whole time i was reading this, up until the interview with Yoongi. After that i released a very huge breath. This is such a beautiful story, the way Yoongi makes it up to her with words and deeds, trying to prove to her that she’s loved and there is no one else.

It takes hard work to keep any relationship to work and this story is such a gem coz it gives you hope that there is happy ending.

author appreciation!!!

¼ of the amazing quartet, i will do the other 3 in due time! i love my queen, i live for her werewolf au, plus there’s always the right mix of angst, fluff, and smut that is always chefs kiss… i super like that although her male characters are so obviously strong they are super soft too then it comes to female leads… and and and theres sort of redemption always for characters like Yoongi in Third Wheeling & Jimin in Bird Cage.

below are my fave fics from this author, but please do go ahead and browse all her works as they are all equally beautiful.

I Waited for You - just because its a Kim Seokjin fic and he’s an alpha!!! maybe i have not explored tumblr properly but i have come across very few Alpha Seokjin stories.

Welcome to Seoul Land - again, just because its a Kim Namjoon fic and werewolf au. my queen did not disappoint! Namjoon is so soft, ima cry…

When it Rain it Pours - i was swooning, a soft Namjoon for a roommate turned lovers…

What’s up Doc - ooohhhhh! soft Yoongi and i love the part where they whispers while waiting for test results, its so cute i swear! but, don’t be fooled coz we are talking about the queen here so the smut is top tier as per usual.

Snowed In&Live, Laugh, Love - bestfriends to lovers stories featuring our eternal sunshine Hoseok. imagine Hoseok telling his girlfriend that his best friend means the most to him in the world!!! if that is not in love i dont know what.. but, Hoseok in our queens story is amazing.

Siver & Blue - alpha Taehyung with lots of smuts, what else can you ask for?

Marshmallows and Report Card - i melted just like those marshmllows. Single dad AU for Taehyung.

The Price of Love - i swear i cried when i read this story… i mean can you blame me? its like lost and found love..

In Bloom - this is just sweet the kiss and make up is super lovely.. plus really imagine our baby bear Taehyung with tats…

Cabin Fever - our queen has lots of stories for Jungkook but this is my fave coz its hybrid story. the story is cute but then again the smut is hot!

show lots of love for our queen @untaemedqueen and follow and reblog pls pls pls

HelloARMY!

Just letting you know, second chapter of the fanfic is up. Our ENTP is not giving up on this project and it’s beautiful *wipes a tear* #proud.

Do bear with me as I shamelessly and rightfully hype up my blog partner…\(•_•)/

Thanks for your support and let’s get reading!



GAMBATTE!

Hey guys! i know I promised you that new Yoongi fic last week, but it’s turning out to be a lot longer than I originally planned (but that means more content for you!) so it’s taking a bit longer. I’m almost finished, so bear with me and get excited!

*Admin Sinnabun*

Since you’re all so thirsty for Suga apparently, he’s first up!! I hope to finish it by sometime next week so look forward to it!

*Admin Sinnabun*

kookiesbuckethat:

cold shoulder

Summary: Yoongi suddenly starts giving you the cold shoulder, causing you to distance yourself from him and the rest of the members. But the reason behind his behaviour is not what you think.

Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 4.5k

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Watching BTS perform through a screen was entertaining and exciting. Watching them perform live was magical and an experience you would never forget. Watching them perform up close from the wings of the stage was a privilege that came with being Yoongi’s girlfriend, and one you would forever be grateful for.

Of course, you weren’t just dating Yoongi to watch their concerts, you loved him inside and out, the good and the bad, the idol side of him and the real side of him. And no matter how many times you watched them practice, rehearse and perform their songs, you would never get tired of watching them do what they loved.

Keep reading

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Pairing:Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre:hanahaki, angst, established relationship

Rating:18+

Word Count: 1300

Warnings:blood, choking, coughing, vomiting, hanahaki disease, relationship issues, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of hospitals and medical treatments

A/N:welcome to part two of the series! it is a bit short this time around, but we get to meet JUNGKOOK~~

Read part one here.

Join the tag list here. 

~~~~~~~

The ICU waiting room is suffocating. The room is small and plain and full of people waiting to visit their loved ones. There is a family with about six kids to your left. The youngest children are roaming around, giggling happily. They don’t understand the implications of being in this place.

You shuffle around in the stiff chair, waiting for Yoongi’s doctor to come and speak with you about his condition. The Generic Hotel Art catches your eye. A field of flowers spreading out to the horizon. It’s a little too on the nose. Last night, you saw the illness taking over your boyfriend but you had no idea just how bad it was.

“Ma’am, you’re here to see Min Yoongi, correct?” A man in navy scrubs approaches you, a clipboard in his hands. “I’m Dr. Kim, please follow me this way.” 

The doctor leads you through a set of double doors and down a hallway. You can smell the crisp clean scent of the hospital. You can see into each room and with each passing patient a lump grows in your throat

“Let’s stop here for a moment and talk about Yoongi’s course of treatment.” Dr. Kim stops suddenly, a few feet away from what you assume is Yoongi’s room. You can make out a lump in the bed, but the sheer curtains blur his face. “As I’m sure you know, his diagnosis is acute hanahaki disease.” You nod along, images of flower petals invading your mind.

“Unfortunately, the disease is so severe that the typical treatments we use to stop the spread will not be enough.” The doctor pauses as though he wants you to chime in. 

“So will you be performing the surgery?” You question, chewing on the dry skin around your thumb nail. 

“The surgery is either a very early intervention, or an absolute last resort.” He stops and you realize there is something not clicking in your brain. 

“I don’t think I understand.” 

“It would take several hours to remove the growths from his lungs and since he is already so weak, his odds of survival are about 25% at best.” The doctor gives you a moment to process the information, to realize how dire this situation truly is. He brings his hand up to squeeze your arm and it hits you like a ton of bricks. 

Your legs start to give, but you cling to the wall. The doctor grabs your arms to help steady you. Tears are streaming down your face, each carrying the pain you feel just imagining life without Yoongi.

“Wha- what can you do?” You stutter, waves of sorrow shake your body. 

“We need to track down the person he’s in love with and see if there are any feelings there. At this point the safest way to heal Yoongi is the natural way. He needs to feel that his love is, in fact, requited.” 

~~~~~~~

You’ve never seen Yoongi so pale. And that’s really saying something, seeing as he never goes outside. His hand, that you’ve delicately placed in your own, is clammy. You can tell he’s really uncomfortable, but he still manages to sleep. 

For the past hour or so, you’ve been doing two things: waiting for Yoongi to wake up and trying to figure out who stole his heart.

It has to be someone at his job, he’s always either at work or home. You knew a few of his work friends, but there is one name that sticks out. Someone he’s been working more closely with lately. 

“Baby?” Yoongi’s hoarse voice cracks, his throat damaged by the foliage growing up from his lungs. He weakly squeezes your hand, and it sends a fresh wave of tears spilling over your lashes. 

“Is it Jungkook?” You question him bluntly. He closes his eyes and tries to swallow. “I need to know, it’s your only chance at getting through this.”

Yoongi is unresponsive to your sudden interrogation, so you ask again. “Is it Jungkook?”

He nods.

~~~~~~~

“I’m sorry ma’am he is unavailable for the rest of the afternoon.” The receptionist responds to your inquiry to speak to Jeon Jungkook without even looking up from her computer screen. 

The lobby of BH Music Group is familiar to you, though the receptionist must be somewhat new if she doesn’t recognize you. The sleek black leather furniture and a wall to wall mural from a local street artist haven’t changed, though. The speakers are playing a chill lo-fi beat track, no doubt created in house. 

When Yoongi first got his job here, you visited him quite frequently. He had a little set up in an office with the other newbies, but it wasn’t long before he had his very own studio space. Genius Lab he called it. A bit cocky for an assistant producer, but it fit his brand perfectly. He started getting busier, so your visits became few and far between. 

“Is there something else I can help you with?” The reception asks, cocking an eyebrow in your direction. 

“Yes, sorry. Ireallyneed to speak with Jungkook.” You stress your words, trying to make her realize the urgency. “I’m Min Yoongi’s girlfriend.” Her eyes grow wide, and she nods before picking up her phone. 

“Sir, Min Yoongi’s girlfriend is at the front desk asking to see you.” She pauses and you can just barely make out the sound of someone talking on the other line. She turns her attention to you. 

“Ma’am, he’ll see you now.” She gives you a sympathetic look and hangs up her phone. 

Two doors down from Genius Lab is Jungkook’s studio, Golden Closet. Standing outside of Jungkook’s studio feels a bit surreal. This isn’t your life, it can’t be. Your boyfriend loves you and only you.

This is the reality you must face though. You reach forward and knock firmly against the door. It takes a long moment of eerie quiet for the door to open. A tall man with big bright eyes looks down at you from behind the door. His skin is flawless and his dark hair hangs, slightly mussed, next to his sharp jaw. 

He’s beautiful. 

And that makes you hate him even more.

“Hi, Y/N, please come in.” Jungkook bows his head and stands back from the door. You enter, slowly walking past him. His studio looks very similar to Yoongi’s. Speakers, mixing equipment, a computer. He’s got a keyboard with red backlighting and a handful of little tchotchkes lined up in a row under his monitors. 

“Would you like to sit?” He motions toward the leather sofa on the back wall of the studio. Crossing your arms, you shake your head and lean against the wall instead. 

“Yoongi is in the hospital.” You blurt out, eyes avoiding Jungkook’s. The emotions are already building up again, creating pressure in your chest. “The ICU, actually.”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry.” Jungkook sits down in his desk chair. “What can I do?” He asks after a moment’s pause. 

Something about the sincerity in his voice breaks you. You crumble onto the floor and let out a sob. Jungkook, seemingly unsure of what to do, moves down to the floor next to you and opens up his arms.

What he offers is a hug, some comfort. What he gets it’s a dozen slaps to the chest and more crying. 

“Did you know?!” You cry out between sobs. “Why did you do this?!”

“No! What?” He asks, not fighting you, but pulling you closer. “I don’t know what you mean.” The sobs take over and you give up fighting him. His arms are strong, but not smothering.

Jungkook, practically a stranger, holds you while you cry. It must have been two or three full minutes before you’re calm enough to speak again. 

“Yoongi has hanahaki disease.” You can feel Jungkook’s chest jolt, his breath catching. “Did you know he’s in love with you?”

~~~~~~~

A/N: Thank you for reading! Thank you for everyone who has joined the tag list so far, I am so grateful for you. Feel free to send an ask or DM anytime! <3 Part three coming next week! Check out my master list here. 

Tag list: @dee-ehn@kseokwu@mrcleanheichou@halesandy@sonderkook@rapunzel76@cuteipat@dal-light​ 

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Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

Genre: hanahaki, angst, established relationship

Rating: 18+

Teaser Word Count:180

Warnings: blood, choking, coughing, vomiting, hanahaki disease, relationship issues, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of sex, mentions of hospitals and medical treatment

Read part one here.

Join my tag list.

~~~~~~~

You’ve never seen Yoongi so pale. And that’s really saying something, seeing as he never goes outside. His hand, that you’ve delicately placed in your own, is clammy. You can tell he’s really uncomfortable, but he still manages to sleep. 

For the past hour or so, you’ve been doing two things: waiting for Yoongi to wake up and trying to figure out who stole his heart.

It has to be someone at his job, he’s always either at work or home. You knew a few of his work friends, but there is one name that sticks out. Someone he’s been working more closely with lately. 

“Baby?” Yoongi’s hoarse voice cracks, his throat damaged by the foliage growing up from his lungs. He weakly squeezes your hand, and it sends a fresh wave of tears spilling over your lashes. 

“Is it Jungkook?” You question him bluntly. He closes his eyes and tries to swallow. “I need to know, it’s your only chance at getting through this.”

Yoongi is unresponsive to your sudden interrogation, so you ask again. “Is it Jungkook?”

He nods.

~~~~~~~

Posting 4/23/2021 5pm CST.

Read part one here.

Join my tag list.

Tag list for this series: @kseokwu@mrcleanheichou​ <3

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title: mu$ic fairy
pairing: rapper!yoongi x podcaster!female reader
genre: angst | smut | pwp
summary: When Yoongi’s career started to kick off, he never imagined he’d have a secret admirer this early in the game. Sure, random women throw themselves at him all the time, but this one has a different approach when it comes to getting his attention.
teaserword count: 0.4k
teaser warnings: swearing | sexual tension | sexual references | mature themes
rating: 18+
a/n: So, I literally just finished the last scene for this and I wanted to share a teaser to celebrate because this is going to be one of my favs. This is unedited, straight from the doc so please don’t judge me lol. For one time only until I return, I’ll be opening a taglist for this fic. You may click here to join(18+), but please only join if you plan on reblogging and/or leaving feedback. Thanks! I hope y’all enjoy this one. Release date is Friday June 10th @ 8pm cst.

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He shouldn’t crave the warmth beneath his palm while his hand grips your forearm, but he does. The skin to skin contact should not arouse him so easily, but there’s no denying the bulge forming in his pants. Despite all of this, Yoongi keeps his composure the best he can; you’re too cocky for him to just slip up and expose himself.

“Out of all the times to fuck with me…” he pauses when your glossed luscious lips part to blow the strawberry bubblegum you’ve been chewing. Your tongue darts out to pop and collect the medium-sized pink bubble, and he can feel his knees buckle when you suck it back in. 

He’s usually not this fond of people and gum, but the way you handle it, the way you slowly rolled it over your tongue in preparation was a fucking sinful, and he can’t get enough of watching you do it. 

“Why tonight?” he asks you.

You bat your thick lashes, probably knowing good and well what you’re doing to him. He knows you’re taunting him, silently asking for him to make a move, but he won’t. You’ll have to beg him for it.

Because…I’m horny, and tired of waiting for your clueless ass to figure this out.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Bullshit.” 

He looks down as your finger loops underneath one of his chains and tugs him closer, something he wouldn’t allow anyone to do, but somehow you already earned privileges. You don’t know how dangerous of a game you’re playing with him, but he silently prays you’ll get to find out. He’d give anything to bend over the hood of his car and—

“Actually, I think you owe me something,” you inform, placing your other hand on his shoulder once he slides his to your waist.

“And what might that be, love?”

Your smirk widens as you hypnotize him with your brown orbs. He can smell your perfume and flavored gum even better from this proximity, and your scent makes him feel like he’s in some sort of blissful haze—intoxicated by the smell of you. It’s no secret that he wants you bad; he just can’t let you know that. Not until you tell him why you’re doing all of this.

“An orgasm.”

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Still Feel It All. (m) | ONE - SHOT | MIN YOONGI, 4.7 k 

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:Yoongi knew some of it. He knows of the things you take part in, the world you inhabit sometimes. The relationships those included, the things you don’t talk about as much anymore. But, you think, he may not know how it feels, how things pan out if you go too far in one instance. 

Warning/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language; smut (fem-reader; oral sex (f-receiving); unprotected sex; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; but this is like, ‘non-explicit explicit sex,’ if you get what I mean - just plenty of feelings); slightangst; there’s so much pining and professions of love and it’s just a lot; for context: they’re roommates rn and were friends with benefits at some point; also, the reader is involved in BDSM and Yoongi isn’t; there are descriptions of a  ‘drop’ and the exhaustion and anxiety that may come after a scene, then aftercare) - non - idol!AU

=====

Just to emphasise: please be mindful of the tags and read at your own discretion! I think that this one shot is a bit intense and to reiterate, if some of the tags above are things that you are sensitive towards, please don’t read ahead. 

(Also, the title is a song by MARO if anyone’s curious!)

-

The lease is for a year and on the eleventh month, Yoongi finds you in the shower, soaked in your clothes. 

With your forehead pressed onto the tiles, your breath joins the plumes of steam that curled up to the ceiling. It’s too warm and you were light-headed but moving was too hard, weighed down by sopping fabric. Your eyelids are heavy, your lashes tending to stick together, as if the crystals of sleep are stubbornly affixed there.

Trembling in your position, you don’t quite hear anything properly, the shower filters in and out, alongside the strong thud of your heart. But the sound of the door rouses something in you, making you curl inwards more. 

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t know you were in here.” 

Yoongi’s voice is deep and echoes in the small space, the vowels sound smooth coming from him. You turn your head, beyond shame for the moment. 

“’S okay. You’re fine.” 

You’re fine. 

You’re fine. 

You’re fine. 

Your brain repeats the mantra, thoughts frayed like the end of a rope. You’ll deal with the fallout later and Yoongi will do his best to understand, he always does. 

“Are you okay?” 

You liked Yoongi’s satoori,it reminded you of someplace safe, where the sun sets in an orange glow on the horizon, sinking between great mountains. 

It’s the not the first time he asks this, of course. Living together made certain things impossible to conceal, but you were clear on your limits. A space is a space and lines can be drawn if the other is willing. Now, though, you don’t mind that someone is asking, even more so that it’s Yoongi. He would have noticed that the door was ajar and it makes the shame a little easier to bear. He was worried and he could tell that leaving you alone wouldn’t benefit either of you. 

Still, you resist. 

“I’m fine.”

That sounded weird out loud. As if to affirm, your shoulders tense, the water feeling too cold lower down. 

“You don’t seem fine,” he says, closer now. It sounds as if he was right by the glass. 

The exhale was harder than the inhale, your chest tightens as air is pushed out. 

“It’s just - it’s just a drop.” 

Yoongi knew some of it. He knows of the things you take part in, the world you inhabit sometimes. The relationships those included, the things you don’t talk about as much anymore. But, you think, he may not know how it feels, how things pan out if you go too far in one instance. 

“I need some time, I need…” 

You don’t exactly know, if you were being frank. 

“You should get out of your clothes,” Yoongi scolds. 

It’s soft in the way he reprimands you, like a nag, swallowed in a mumble, almost lost in the consistent pelt of the water against the wall. You had no energy to argue, to turn his hospitality away, so you nod. The slide of the door is a squeak, the air comes through in a rush, and Yoongi is by your side, his hands at your waist. The touch is reverent, even now. Careful and trying. 

“Let me help.” 

You turn and find him close but his eyes are on the floor, which is filling up with the both of you on it. You hear your breath grow shallow, your mouth going dry. Yoongi’s cheeks are mottled pink, hints of red around his nose, the centre of his lips, his shirt is stained at the shoulders, caught in the ensuing spray. 

“You’ll get all wet,” you whispered, the ragged ends of your words masked by the heat and steam. 

“It’s okay.” 

He looks up at you, it’s quick though, as he works to grab something from the basket hanging on the side. Yoongi,you warned, regaining some sort of control. He hushes you in a second, rummaging for more bottles using this easy concentration he has. 

“I’ll wash your hair first, okay?” 

Your face is too warm, despite it all. Yoongi lifts the hem of your shirt, up till he can thread it off you. Then, he unhooks your bra, letting it fall away. His gaze avoids the marks on your skin, ones that resemble ropes criss-crossing intricately, others being fingers. Traces of a scene you left. 

“I’ll tend to those later,” Yoongi offers after. “Your sweatpants.” 

“I’ll keep them on,” you said, and Yoongi sighs in response and crowds you, but in a way that you can hear him better than anything else. The rhythm of his breathing, the small grunts he emits as he tries to squeeze the last of the shampoo out onto his palm. You don’t mean to but you lean towards him, yearning for something solid yet soft. Facing each other, you were able to tuck your chin over his shoulder, resting there for the moment. He says your name, as gentle as the first time you met, on that cold January day. Yoongi, with his averted gaze and saccharine smile. The sun was so bright that day, lightening the tips of his hair into a warm amber. 

When his palms bracket your sides, you shiver at the contact, relief manifesting at the tangible. 

And that’s the thing about Yoongi. 

He’s kind and soft where you were sharp and abrasive. He cares where he can’t help and helps even when he shouldn’t care. You didn’t mind your differences, after all, you were your own person. But you liked that Yoongi held you as if he understood everything, it made you need something you didn’t know you wanted. 

“You don’t have to, but I’ll listen.” 

Yoongi’s voice is a mere rumble while pressed together like this. Like the words are pulled from his chest rather than his throat. For a minute, maybe longer, you stay quiet. He manoeuvres, his hands rubbing your back in a calm motion. 

“I - it was too much,” you manage, your voice unnatural in the echoey space. 

“Is what I’m doing too much?” 

You shake your head, finding the energy to smile. 

“I don’t mind this. It’s good.” 

And you almost gave permission for your tears to fall when you feel his hand skate up to your nape, touching your skin, bunching your wet hair, forcing the water to run in excess. 

“We didn’t get to this part,” you confessed, “I didn’t get -,” you stuttered, blinking to focus your eyes back because there was a hollow sort of numbness that seeped all over. Your words are like a mismatched quilt, the stitches haphazard. “We stopped, we broke up.” 

It wasn’t like there was anything more than sex but you felt strange announcing its end. 

“Oh,” Yoongi contemplates, stroking the back of your head, “I’m sorry about that.” 

“’S fine. We just didn’t work anymore,” you said. There was more to explain, more to divulge, but you were lost in the way Yoongi touches at the back of your neck, willing enough pressure to soothe. 

“Sounds like what happened to us,” Yoongi says after a while. 

Your lips curl upwards because he doesn’t say it with malice. He sounded hurt, the words are mumbled, the satooriholding the ends together. It happened on the fifth month, when you fucked. The night was warm and you were both too drunk to commit to a proper thought process, or to stop, really. Then, you tried again, sober, and when you asked to go beyond expectation, for Yoongi’s hand to strike you, he shrank back, nervous. After, it got awkward, like you were stepping on eggshells each time you spoke. 

You stopped then. 

“We didn’t really talk about it, Yoongi.” 

The realisation makes you frown. 

“I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about it, forget that I brought it up,” he sighs, “is it okay for me to wash your hair?” 

“Yeah,” you mumbled, leaning back, meeting his gaze. Those brown eyes that are far too kind, and one look, your shivers settle. And you don’t ask because you feel the pull, you hover your lips over his, barely touching. 

You feel the flutter of his lashes on your cheek, “’s okay, you can wash my hair,” you murmured. 

So he does, those long, bony fingers doing their best to leave no trace, rinsing the suds away from your scalp, trailing down to the ends. 

“I like that you coloured it this way,” Yoongi says, his voice too fond. You find yourself smiling, dipping your head down as he finishes wringing out the shampoo. Some of the red makes it onto the floor, seeping into the hem of his jeans. 

“It’s pretty,” he adds in a huff. You don’t protest when he leans close again, kissing the juncture where your arm and your shoulder meet. 

“C’mon.” 

He helps you stand up and the rest of it goes wordlessly. The rest of your clothes are pulled off, his too. Then, you are wrapped in his robe, and he towels himself roughly, stepping into loose sweats. You look at him as he ruffles his hair, quick movements that flick water off the ends into the air. You see the soft slopes of his body, the landscape of it and its contours. His eyes are your favourite, sharp yet rounded, framed by long lashes, holding a gaze so kind that it’s easy to want - to crave. A pinprick of pain suffuses through your chest and you say it before thinking. 

“Can we sleep together?” 

He stares at you, drinking your words in. He doesn’t say anything and walks out, and you shrink back into yourself, curling your fingers into a fist. The brunt of the embarrassment felt as a tremble of your lower lip. 

“I’ll get something for your bruises,” he says, busying himself as he opens the door to his bedroom. He sounds far away because there were walls between you now. Mi-Rae wasn’t meant to come back until early morning and Namjoon is away on a trip. The apartment has four rooms and two bathrooms, the one you were in was the one you shared with Mi-Rae. It’s enough for islands to form, for lines to be drawn on the sand. 

Yoongi isn’t tidy and he cleans when he feels like it. You knew that for a fact after a few weeks of living together. On his chair are layers of shirts, sweat shirts, and hoodies yet to find a home on his shelf. The equipment he has are on his desk, mini-keyboards, a lone mic, his monitor that had a black screen as a background. But it smells like him. It smells like sweet vanilla, like the cologne he wears sometimes, sweet and subtle. You’ll only know if you’re close enough or if you’re in his space. 

“Come,” he says, already sat on his bed, meeting you in the eye. 

You always felt cared for whenever Yoongi does this. He’s like that to everyone, so you’re not exactly singled out; it’s just the way he was. He doesn’t say much but there will always be food on the table and his smile outside the station when it’s raining and you forgot an umbrella. Back then, you were appreciative, someone resembling a stranger being unconditionally kind. Maybe it was a crush, then.

Now, it’s somewhat changed. But it’s still nice that Yoongi cares in the same way he does from the moment you met. He pushes the robe away, and it slides down your shoulders, the tips of his fingers are cold and you hiss. You remember the ropes being tight but you preferred it that way. The gel he applies is even colder, though. He gives you an apologetic look, his cheeks rounding as he draws his lips into a line. It spreads evenly and you yearn for something you can quite place. You let yourself drop forward again, head on his shoulder. 

“Thanks.” 

“Do you always come back like this?”

The question is innocent yet probing. Your silence he takes as a cue to elaborate. 

“After you - after you’re with someone like that - you said something about a drop,” he tries, but you catch the tremble in his voice, the way it shakes the vowels, he seems hesitant. “I don’t know what that means.” 

You inhale and exhale, the pain rushes back. You focus on Yoongi’s skin, pale even in the low light, the bare expanse of it, feeling his warmth, anchoring yourself as you tried to regulate your breathing. The conversation never happened between you and you weren’t sure if you wanted it to happen in the first place. Yoongi was someone who made you feel soft yet thorny things at the same time. He’s someone in your heart but the way he came in was through being lodged at your rib, and you think he’s stayed there ever since, and slowly you got used to the way that hurt sometimes. 

“It can be rough,” you began, trying to work through the flashes of memory. “They normally take care of me after.” 

“And this time, they didn’t?” 

“No - it’s not that.” 

It’s about being left on the bed, curled up, about feeling numb for what feels longer than a minute or two, unable to utter a word or move. It was about ending things so impersonally. 

We don’t have to be together anymore. 

It was cold and unpleasant. It hurt in a different kind of way, more than the marks left to heal for days. 

“We didn’t end up finishing the scene, they went ahead, and -” you said, feeling out of touch, “it doesn’t matter. I don’t care anymore.” 

“Did you love them?” 

You raise your head because it wasn’t what you expected. Yoongi wasn’t looking at you at all, but his cheeks were pink, his nerves showing up in a flare. 

“No. It’s not like that. It’s not love.” 

Yoongi sighed, refocusing and placing more gel on your skin. It’s warmer now that he’s held it for a while. You observe his quietness, finding small moles on his skin, one on his left cheek, the part in his hair, the chapped surface of his lips. 

“I’ve never really been in love.” 

It was years before. When things got too much, when you were pushed to the limits, you weren’t tired. It manifested as a rush, a high that you wanted to replicate. Eventually, you found another source, and under the heavy hand of another, you experienced something inexplicably euphoric that it stayed with you in your core for days. From there, it developed, until you picked up everything else, met different people, stepping into an escape that you didn’t know you were searching for in the first place. A lack of control translating as actual freedom from the things that shackled you down in your life. 

It had more to do with trust rather than love. 

And there was hardly an overlap. 

“I don’t get it. I don’t get you,” Yoongi mutters, his voice unsteady now. 

“It doesn’t change things. I’m still myself,” you explained, the thorny feeling coming back tenfold. “I’m still me, Yoongi. But sometimes, I just want to forget and sometimes, I want to be…” 

You hesitate because you feel like you’re running out of words to describe this amorphous feeling that’s followed you since. Yoongi’s touch runs along your collarbone, feeling the grooves of where the rope was once. You gather some strength from there. 

“Sometimes, I want to be someone else’s.” 

“I’m sorry,” is what Yoongi says. “We don’t have to talk about it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I wanted to tell you,” you replied, looking elsewhere, on the corner of his ceiling. “I mean, at some point, later on, we can talk about it more.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t touch you anymore either. 

“Please take care of me, Yoongi.” 

“I’ll get you a shirt and underwear, wait here.” 

“No - just, can you sleep here, with me?” 

It’s a feeble attempt but you reach out as he stands, circling your hand around his wrist. He was warm and his pulse feels strong. “Can I stay?” 

There’s more to that. It’s a plea for something that comes so easily for him. Perhaps that’s why you felt shy asking. 

“You and I, we -,” he starts, his voice hoarse, “I don’t think I have anything to offer you.” 

What Yoongi said puzzled you. That was hardly the truth because he was always offering you something. Whether it was his gentle comfort, his own space, his words, his embrace. He was a safe harbour and welcoming when the storm battered against the sails. He’s changed but not that much, he’d kiss your forehead if you did something well, cook you something when you were exhausted, support you unfailingly. Yoongi was made of all the good things you never thought you’d get in this lifetime and it made you think of him when moments are idle. You thought about his skin, his scent, his smile, till it became a subconscious craving, even when you were in the presence of someone else. At the end of it all, at the end of the pain mixed with pleasure, you wished that Yoongi was there to pick you up.  

The thought makes you blink rapidly, your heartbeat knocking against your chest in an erratic rhythm. You ball your hands into fists, the realisation hitting you too suddenly. Yoongi waits, your hand tightens over his wrist. His eyes are neither soft nor fond. 

“No. That’s a lie,” you said, panicked. 

Nothing is said, nothing for the few seconds it takes for Yoongi to kneel between your legs. Your breath thins as you feel him press his lips to your neck and you shudder. Your eyes flutter close, the tilt of your head is automatic, and you get kissed on your collarbones, Yoongi’s tongue is hot on your skin, over your nipple that your moans are sighed out. You grow weak as the robe  eventually falls away, your body arching towards Yoongi until the fire becomes too much. He murmurs your name, his fingers wandering down, your legs spreading instinctively. You gasp and he finds you wet.

“You’re -”

“I - earlier, I didn’t get to come,” you breathed, “it’s okay. Keep going.” 

Yoongi says your name again, and it sounds different, tender.You had to fight to properly see him, already succumbing to the haze of pleasure. 

“I’ll do what you like, just - just tell me.” 

And that shouldn’t make you want to cry all of the sudden so you shake your head, “it’s okay. What you’re doing is fine.” 

“You want to come?” 

It wasn’t the most Yoongi thing to say and it sounded too suggestive right now. It makes your face heat up, your mind confused as your body craves and craves. You’ve fucked more than once but the intimacy is different now, informed by new words, shaped into a new meaning. It’s rehashed but renewed. 

“I - yeah. I want to,” you sniffed, aware of your position, Yoongi kneeling on the floor, your legs spread and his fingers grazing between. He raises himself up, teeth skimming your neck, his tongue circling your nipple and you fingers clutch at the sheets, the air rushing into your lungs, making them expand. And you’re weaker somehow, breathless as Yoongi touches you between your legs, fingers dipping inside, curling and rubbing that you flinch. You whimpered, bowing onto him, shaking as he goes on and on. It feels good, too good to be cared for like this. Your name makes it past the mist, it’s a concerned tone cloaked under the satoori. 

“You’re shaking,” Yoongi says, his thumb stroking your hip.

“No, it’s good. It feels good,” you assured, your voice scratchy, “just - please.” 

You stop because you areshivering at this point from being yanked from the peak.

“Lay on your back,” he says, and you look at him, eyes wide.

“What?” 

Yoongi wraps an arm around your waist, hoisting you closer to the headboard. You scramble back, leaving behind the robe and it slithers away, onto the floor. But the realisation is quick, you haven’t really done this with him and you think he feels forced. 

“You don’t have to, we haven’t - ”

“I want to do this. I want you to feel good,” he said, quiet and embarrassed. You bite your lip because you feel fond, despite everything. “And it’s better than my fingers.” 

You’ve had your mouth fucked and gagged, had fingers pressed until you think you couldn’t breathe anymore. You remember the tears that slipped down, salty on your lips, the thrilling feeling of a high. You were used to that as opposed to being on the other side of things, never had the experience of being cared for in thatway. Yoongi says your name again, careful fingers on your damp hair, tucking it behind your ear. 

“Okay, yeah. But if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to just because -”

Yoongi cuts you off, firmly letting you recline, “I’ll tell you if that happens.” 

The sheets are soft and the ceiling is plain, your heart is loud as Yoongi hitches your legs over his shoulders. The anticipation is something you haven’t felt, it’s a certain frequency you were unfamiliar with, yielding to Yoongi’s control. He’s gentle, kissing your inner thighs and you look, because the brush of his hair tickles somewhat, and his breath is warm there. And it’s awkward since he pauses, that you almost protest but then his mouth latches and his tongue swipes over and over that you gasp. The instinct was to shut your legs but he pushes his shoulders to pin you wide, and his nose is cool but his mouth is hot and wet, his tongue probing and circling, and your moans are soft, you turn your face onto the pillow, legs shaking as he holds you down. 

“Fuck,ah,” you breathed, knees knocking together as Yoongi pull back, his chin and lips glistening. 

“Are you okay? Does it feel good?”

Bewildered, you release your grip on the sheets, “I - yes,” you said, watching intently as Yoongi swipes his tongue on his bottom lip. His chest rises and falls, his hair askew. You realise that he’s tasting you and it’s like a warm sluice in your gut, spreading throughout your chest. He looks different, and you find yourself saying that out loud. 

“How?” 

You gather your words, thoughts trickling back again. 

“Different. The last time we,” you said, delving into the memory, “the last time we had sex, I could tell that you were sad.” 

It was an awkward admission, given that you were like this. So you sit up and Yoongi does the same, confusion apparent in the knit of his brow. 

“It was like you couldn’t understand the person I was. Like you didn’t like me.” 

“But I do,” he said, placing his hands on your thighs. “I just -,” he tries, “I love you. I’m in love with you.” 

The words come out in a fast reel that it’s cloaked in a lisp. He pushes his palm and messes up his hair even more that it sticks up, you swallowed. He presses his palm to his temple, the bend of his fingers make it seem crooked and he speaks again, calmer this time, to make you listen - 

“I love you and I’m jealous that -”

“Yoongi,” you said, voice matching his tone, “what are you saying?” 

Though you couldn’t ignore the way your heart was racing too fast and that it’s more like a drum in your ears. 

“It’s not in my control anymore,” he exhales, “and I get that you might need to go to someone else, we can,” he sighs, and your heart feels like stone in your chest, “we’re still friends.” 

And you look at each other till whatever was unspoken is brought to the fore. His eyes, which hid many things, now show warmth and a certain fondness you think he has always reserved for you. No words happen because Yoongi kisses you, his lips are so light on yours, his hands moving, caressing and easing you back. 

“We carry on,” he says, and you nod, biting his bottom lip, savouring that groan. 

There aren’t any complaints, no words that speak of pain you get off to or Yoongi’s hesitation. There isn’t really that control you have to submit to, there’s just your fingers threading through his, the rocking movement of your hips, his soft grunts against your neck as he sinks into you. And there’s the sound of skin, sticky and wet, the feeling of him inside you, it’s so unbelievable that your gasps meet his groans, and you hear whatever escapes when your kisses grow messy. There are no more words, less of those mismatched descriptions and explanations that end up in tangled threads neither of you could unravel, just your bodies moving and doing what feels good. Yoongi groans as you spasm around him, his hips driving down and you come, your legs shaking at his sides as he slows, grinding down.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “ah.

“I can pull out, wait,” he huffs, sounding breathy. 

“N-no, don’t,” you said, your voice raspy, fingers on his back, nails impressing grooves on the muscle, “if you keep going, I can, hgnh,I can come again.” 

Yoongi groans, pressing his forehead against yours, and you feel it, feel the myriad of ways he chooses to love you, to care for you, and it soaks you to the bone. You kiss him because the feelings are too loud and you’re too sensitive, your heart skipping and skipping. You realise that you don’t just want the sex, but the feeling that Yoongi brings, a sense of home. 

“Y-yoongi,” you began, “I love you,” you said, your voice muffled against his lips. “I love you.” 

He kisses you deeply, holds you almost as if you’d break, his movements retreating into a slow tempt, and you panic, not wanting to be brought away from the peak. 

“Please, don’t stop, keep going -”

It doesn’t take much for him to come, and you shudder as he grunts low, his climax in waves and after, you let him part, only to sling your legs over his shoulders and dips his mouth on your pulsing centre. He goes until you’re pushing him off, overwhelmed at the amount of times he could make you feel good. 

Later, your eyes meet and you grow shy because it really wasn’t sex. It was more than you shared, even when you were together, like this. Yoongi blushes as you part his hair, and you feel shy when he kisses your temple. 

“I can learn the things that make you feel good,” he says eventually. You hum, observing the sheen of his nose, the reddened tint of his cheeks. You appreciate how he tries and how that’s love. He looks at you again, his fingers are gentle in your hair. The sheets are soft on your skin and when you place your hand on his chest, his heart is slow but strong. He kisses your forehead as you close your eyes, searching for words to describe how you feel. 

“It’s okay.” 

Yoongi understands because he continues to care for you, choosing a soft towel and hands you a bottle of water that you almost finish in one go. 

“What are we then?” 

He asks this as he gulps down from a glass. You knit your eyebrows together, perplexed. He takes this as another moment to elborate. 

“You and I,” he says, sniffing, pressed close despite the size of his bed. You curl into him. “I don’t think I can control you in the way you want to be controlled.” 

“You don’t have to,” you replied, “we don’t have to be like that.” 

Yoongi twines his fingers with yours, palms pressed to trap the warmth, “would you go and look for someone else to do that?” 

You kiss his cheek and he leans close, “no, that’s not something I want.” 

It takes a moment for you to say the next thing, the thorny feeling becoming something soft. 

“I just want you.” 

Yoongi goes redder, if that was even possible. “Oh.” 

It was underwhelming as he was flustered, and you kissed him softly, breathing his scent in, feel the way his skin is smooth and warm. 

“Yeah, we can try again.” 

It’s the quiet of the night, where time is stretched into light-years, and you’re in Yoongi’s arms, floating still. He kisses your forehead, your nose, and eventually your lips. He says those words, low and soft, morphing into a sound under your skin, dulling the ache in your heart that you’ve carried for a while. 

“I’d like that.” 


masterlist (I)|masterlist (II)

Utopia. | V. | Min Yoongi, 2k

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:Galtea has risen once again, and Yoongi retreats, allowing it to flourish. He tells you that he wants to take you there, someday.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for implied/referenced drug use; implied/referenced drug addiction; angst; brief depictions of war; implied/referenced PTSD; minor character death; the tags areheavy, so proceed with caution; I’ve tried to be as vague as possible but still - Alternate Universe Fantasy/Magical Realism ft.Architect!Min Yoongi.

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This is also available onAO3.

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-

Imperial City’s populace trudge on, content in their work until the following year arrives without much ceremony. It’s the eleventh month and Yoongi pulls the scarf that you made for him higher till it covered his mouth and the tip of his nose. His head is down, like his gaze. Snow falls as his feet take him to the steps of the holistic facility, where light is plentiful and the physicians are in civilian clothes, not in clinical, white jackets.

“I’ve set up a room for you since you wanted to visit for longer,” Seokjin informed him.

Yoongi nods, rubbing his hands together to spur warmth. The silence is long, as long as the time he took to gather the items together. He supposes that the small bag he has is merely symbolic than anything.

“Has she improved?” He asked, inwardly startled by the hoarseness in his voice. Seokjin nods, its a subtle and appropriately concealed dissent.

They make it through another set of doors, to a narrowed hallway lined with doors. Seokjin stands in front of a window; Yoongi peers inside and is greeted with a view of your back. There was nothing being fed into your veins. He inhales sharply and audibly. Then, he lets it all out in a breathy huff, the skin of his cheeks ballooning while his lips stretched to accommodate the gust of air.

“It’s not your fault, Yoongi-ah.”

A hand closes over his wrist, a signal of tangible empathy. Yoongi draws it back, feeling undeserving.

“It’s fairly common to get addicted after the first couple of doses.”

A comment meant to make Yoongi feel reassured ends up squeezing his heart at every beat. You probably had been at it for longer than he knew.

“Will she get better?”

It’s the same question he asks, like a habit. It dons different iterations of the same vexation.

Will she get better?

Will she be herself again?

Will she come back to me?

It’s an act of anguish, unabated even though he knows that the answer he receives will never be the one he wanted to hear.

“It’s hard to say but it’s manageable. We try to take it day by day here.”

Seokjin knows it too. It seemed that to Yoongi, plateauing was evermore nefarious than decline. To stay the same is to decay.His silence prompts Seokjin, who twists the doorknob open.

“I’ve signed her up for a trial with a more powerful antidote that is projected to flush the drug out of her system completely.”

Yoongi’s stomach twists at the possibility of using a different method.

”How soon before she will be able to get on it?”

Seokjin pauses, comes to your side and crouches down so he could look up at you. He checks your fingertips; they look like they were dipped in a gold glitter. It’s everywhere on you, burning through your skin like luminescence.

“The waiting list is long but it shouldn’t be longer than a couple of months,” Seokjin confirmed.

Yoongi allows himself a few seconds, choosing to watch the outline of your back, your shoulders, the slope of your neck. There’s not much difference anyway, given that each day is much the same.

-

Afternoons are bearable because Yoongi was able to steal some time for himself.

Leisurely, he re-familiarises himself with the map of the facility, the so-called ‘holistic’ practice meant for recovering addicts.

He hated that word.

Addict.

Like you’re some junkie, defeated by an entity the size of a thimble.

He walks the length of the arboretum, passing maple trees then weeping Spruce trees, coniferous trees, the like. Some patients walks amongst them, chatting as they loped together, their veins peeking through their sleeves, eyes bright and golden. The distance he covers reflects his contemplation, each lap is a moment to revisit his choices, to turn them into mistakes. To berate himself as you are tended to in some compound, glassy-eyed and vapid.

-

Have you tried talking to her, hyung? I’m sure that she’ll be able to hear you.

Yoongi tries again.

Pressed up next to you, arms side by side, he holds a copy of Citiesin his hand. He talks in a hushed voice, reading you the pre-amble, about how cities don’t just spring out of nowhere, they must be built.

Sometimes, you stir or mumble. It’s all intelligible, but it’s the most he’s heard from you ever since you got admitted. He takes what he can and speaks again, his voice more enthused.

“Galtea is nestled between the city of Dorea and Thanazt, a city which was sustained by agriculture from its inception. It was the primary source for crops for its surrounding municipalities…”

Your eyes remained unblinking, fixed to an arbitrary point on the opposite wall. There were no replies, nothing clever coming from your lips, no sound of laughter or teasing. Yoongi’s breath trembles slightly, his eyes begin to sting as the words in front of him cease to become readable.

Beneath the sheets, he reaches for your hand, twining his fingers with yours.

He ignores the slight tremor.

-

Seokjin exits the room after giving you something to calm you down.

Alone together, Yoongi curls up next to you as your breathing evens out. He still worries about your faint heartbeat. But he can’t deny the happiness that greets him when you blink, once, twice, then a third time.

“You’re here.”

He smiles at you, smoothing your hair down. The gold is still there, embedded in you. In times like these, he thinks he has you back.

“I built a city for you. I named it Galtea.”

I build all of my cities for you.

But then you leave him again, your eyes dimming, your body sagging onto the bed as the tremors returned. Your veins pulse through your skin, he grimaces, unsure why he can’t keep his eyes from brimming with tears when you’ve been like this for months.

He presses a kiss to your lips. They’re cold, as cold as they were in that dream he had. You remain inert. He takes your hand, clasps his palm against yours, waiting for a reply that would never arrive.

“I think it’ll be your favourite. The best one yet.”

-

It’s never happened before, Seokjin tells him, but you weren’t a typical patient.

Yoongi looks on as more hands fuss over your body, your head lolling to the side as they try to purge you of the toxicity. It’s an ugly reality that he can’t look away from.

Later, when he has settled his nerves, or at least kept them far enough to have a decent conversation, he gathers the courage to string words together.

“You said she wasn’t getting worse, hyung,” he said.

“She’s not getting better either,” Seokjin replied.

“When is the trial for that new drug? Is there any way you can put her on top of the list?”

Seokjin couldn’t even look at him in the eye.

“Truthfully, she’s not even eligible because she’s too weak. Your name can only get her so far, Yoongi-ah.”

After a few moments, Seokjin places a hand on his shoulder.

“Keep visiting her and keep doing what you’re doing. You don’t know how much this is helping her.”

Yoongi feels something in him slip away. He turns his head towards the long hallway as you thrashed against the soft restraints on your wrists and ankles.

-

The windows are open and the breeze is cold.

“I’m good friends with Hoseok now, I like Urban Planning. I have more time, I can visit you more often.”

Yoongi thinks you were nodding in agreement. He pretends that you do while he supports your head so that you don’t fall too forward. He says your name, swiping the pad of his thumb over your knuckle. He kisses your temple, taste the salt of your sweat, closing his eyes at the memory of you.

“I’m so sorry.”

You make a small noise, a hushed bleat.

He tucks you under his arm, stares out of the window at the snow covered structures of Imperial City. Endless swirls of ice, tiny snowflakes that are responsible for the crunch under his shoes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Mhm.”

Seconds pass, he waits, hopeful.

“Visit… more…”

Yoongi sits up, rigid. He leans back, holding you as gently and as adamantly as he could.

“I will,” he breathed, fingers pushing your hair away as you tilt your head. Sleepy eyes greet him but they stay on his, golden irises and gold dust lips.

“You built me a city… that’s… that’s very nice,” you said, a little drowsy. Yoongi laughed, surprised by how easy that was to come by.

“I did.”

He holds you as close as he could, “I’ll take you there, someday.”

More seconds, followed by the slump of your body.

“Mm.”

-

Yoongi understands that you have good days, now that he has more time to visit.

“How about walking to the arboretum?”

You shake your head, focused on painting an abstract picture. Vermillion coats the bristles of the paintbrush, it makes an arc on the parchment he brought for you.

“Can’t leave,” you muttered, offering him a small smile. He knits his brow, sitting by the foot of the bed as you dip the paintbrush in a different colour. Blue this time.

“How come?”

“There’s someone who told me that they’ll come back for me, so I have to wait for them.”

Yoongi clutches the side of the bed, his knuckles numb as his fingers lock over the material.

“Do you know who they are?”

You shake your head, stopping your painting to blink rapidly.

“So why wait?” He prods, trying to get your attention.

He sees your shrug, mixing the colours on the parchment. The paint is pushed past the lines, blurring into a dark mauve creation. The thick textures at the edge dry up, raked into shape by the hard bristles.

“They said that they’ll be here soon. That I shouldn’t go anywhere.”

Yoongi said that to you the day you entered this place. Again, he looks away, helpless.

-

When he’s apart from you, it takes him long minutes after he wakes to come to terms with the fact that it’s not a terrible dream.

Find someone to hold on to, Yoongi. Find someone you can love until the end.

-

The end of the year is in an hour. Snow falls heavier with each minute. Yoongi wraps a scarf around your neck, the same one he wears when travels to see you.

“Hey,” he whispered, fixing your hair as you made room on the bed.

“Hi.”

With your hands intertwined, he watches as the night descends over Imperial City. The Emperor has ceased work for everyone to see the city into the new year.

“You always come by,” you said softly.

Yoongi could only smile.

“I like the stories you tell me, reminds me of someone I know.”

The snow falls and falls, layering over buildings, pathways, and people. Yoongi opens his body up and you slot yourself where he did so.

“Want to hear about Galtea again?” He asked, bringing the sheets up to ensure that you were warm enough. He sniffed, though he knew that it wasn’t because of the drop in temperature. You nod.

“I built a bridge that connects each side of the city together. It would be nice to cross it after a trip to the theatre, or maybe after dinner.”

“Sounds nice…”

Yoongi wipes his eyes brusquely, his hand coming away wet at the heel of his palm. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more. Then, he feels your touch, your own fingers over his.

“They always told me that when the year ends, there was a place they’d like to go to… a cottage with a red door.”

Yoongi clears his throat, stifling a particularly aching sob that threatened to come out. You smile at him.

“Would you like to come with us one day?”

He tightens his grip over your hand, his smile trembling at the corners of his lips.

“One day.”


previously.

masterlist.

Utopia. | IV. | Min Yoongi, 5.1k

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:The city is finally taking shape. Yoongi works diligently to see it through, but memory can be a cruel thing. And so, while he build the perfect city, he hurtles towards a broken reality. Perhaps some things can’t be remedied by hope.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for implied/referenced drug use; implied/referenced drug addiction; angst; brief depictions of war; implied/referenced PTSD; minor character death; the tags areheavy, so proceed with caution; I’ve tried to be as vague as possible but still - Alternate Universe Fantasy/Magical Realism ft.Architect!Min Yoongi.

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This is also available onAO3.

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-

Jimin leaves and for the first time in a while, Yoongi was able to draw something without erasing it after a few seconds. Not quite allowing himself to admit it yet, he acknowledges that this will be his legacy. He has overseen the design and construction of countless cities, all different but all with his mark.

But this one, this utopia, is one that will stand for centuries, long after he’s gone.

When he closes his eyes, slowly, the image of you comes together as if he was sketching you,. The graphite of his pencil becomes more deliberate, the delicate components slide along the rough surface of the paper. Dusting off the excess, he discovers lines and curves from his own hand, simple when viewed individually, but together it forms the utopia. An apotheosis of sorts.

A city in borne out of the echoes of your voice, the curve of your smile, and the light in your eyes.

Soon, the parchment is filled, and the new city comes to light.

Only when the final drafts were finalised in the early hours of dawn did Yoongi allow himself to sleep.

-

“You’ve come a long way, Yoongi,” you said, your arms draped over his neck while you sat on his lap. In front, on the kitchen table was an invitation to the Imperial Gala. In cursive, emerald script was his name, his position, and the relevant time and date.

It’s been a few months since your time at the facility. You were back to work, wearing contacts to shield the obvious glow in your irises. You were painting again and Yoongi was able to restart and focus at work.

Happiness didn’t become as fleeting as he feared.

“Would you like to come with me?” He asked, securing you more onto his lap. Gala’s weren’t something he aspired to, preferring to keep pushing and build more and more. But to have you there in support would alleviate every discomfort. It was nice to be able to rely on each other again.

“I’d like that,” you said, tracing the raised font with your finger.

“I’m glad that you’ll be able to come with me,” he adds. You lean back, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I’m glad that you’re taking me. That makes me happy more than anything,” you said, hugging him suddenly.

Taking the invitation, you turn it over and find the map of Imperial City he helped to build. You trace the details, subconsciously thumbing the areas you’ve been to together. Here, you take as many strolls as you could, see as many plays as your energy allowed.

“I’m glad that you’re happy,” he said, searching your eyes.

Your contacts were elsewhere and the gold shone in vivid pulses. He feels your arms tighten over his shoulders, he welcomes it because it was better than the previous state your were in: barely able to hold onto him while submerged in a state of blankness.

“Promise me something,” you whispered.

His chest constricts, his heart hammering in a heavy thud.

Anything,” he murmurs, he has nothing but fondness for you.

You give him a small smile, your fingers tender along his scalp. The gold runs around your irises like a river of glitter. It’s in your veins too, your body failing to contain its mark. Even if it was poison though, it was eerily beautiful on you.

“Promise me that everything will be alright.”

-

Yoongi resents himself for failing to keep that promise.

Each night he spends alone in the home you shared, each night he sweeps his arm over the empty space where you were meant to be, he wiles away the hours steadfast in his misery.

He asks himself as question that there was no answer to.

Could I have done more?

-

“This looks… amazing, hyung.”

Namjoon said it with enthusiasm, punctuated by an awed exhale. Yoongi blinks. He didn’t realise what he had started. The lines of fine lead slashed the parchment, the smooth charcoal coming out in an easy glide. It produces harsh arcs and sharp points, the finer details were duly incorporated. All together, it looked promising.

“It’s just a draft.”

Namjoon gives him sympathetic smile. Yoongi knows that he looks forlorn, rarely showing a smile these days. He doesn’t bother with eating regularly, he goes home late and comes in early. But it’s been days since this breakthrough and he wasn’t going to waste it. Who knew when he would be this productive again.

“It looks good, hyung.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as Namjoon was out of sight, Yoongi reaches for the roll of parchment on the far corner of his desk.

-

The gala wasn’t so bad when Yoongi had someone to dance with. The elaborate ceilings, the endless food that flowed from the cornucopia in the centre, things that he tried to detach himself from were bearable for the night. He showed you off to everyone he knew, dancing and laughing like you were back in Galtea, where your dreams went only as far as the next day. Even if your eyes were hidden behind artificial lenses to conceal the gold, he didn’t care, you were radiant.

Afterwards, you lay together in bed, buzzed. There’s a worn copy of Cities that Yoongi returns to, rescued from the rubble of his university. Your back is to his chest and you both trace where ancient cities used to be and are now built over. Yoongi appreciates when the banal becomes transcendant, like reading together. In flipping a page or tracing illustrations over and over, there was a sense of possibility. He grasps for moments like these, wanting the seconds to stretch out into hours.

“I heard it’s lovely in Eufemea, always sunny and warm,” you murmured.

“We can go there sometime, when you want to,” he offered, separating your hair with his fingers. You don’t assent, however. Your willingness to stay in a dream almost sends him into anguish; he embraces you, trying to minimise the pain of your silence.

“I wish I was more like you,” you said, changing positions to your arm folded beneath your head, bare skin sticky beneath the sheets. Yoongi’s brows furrowed. Moonlight makes it through the expansive windows, the shafts break on the curve of your body.

“Me? I lack in a lot of ways. I get stuck, I don’t - ”

“But you’re brave. You know how to get unstuck. If you’re talking about someone who’s stuck, you’re really talking about me. In Galtea, I’d probably be working in that club till I died or until the patrons got sick of me. And now… “

You look away because you’re reminded that Yoongi could see the gold in your eyes. The ceiling becomes your focus, and your profile becomes his.

War showed up differently, depending on who you were.

He twists his finger in your hair in quiet appreciation. He senses that you’re still running away in your thoughts and he desperately wanted to follow you.

“But you’re out now, you’re here and far away from anything that could hurt you,” he reassures.

You turn your face, the gold pulses brighter after you blink.

“Because of you.”

-

“What are those structures underground?”

Namjoon slid a steaming mug of coffee towards Yoongi to supplement his question.

“Just something I wanted to add, you know, if the inhabitants wanted to have some fun,” Yoongi answered calmly.

“Never seen that in any of your previous designs, hyung,” Namjoon replied, “but it might be unsafe if you build it too far below,” he mused.

“It shouldn’t be, they’re not that big anyway, like sweaty boxes beneath the floor.”

Yoongi thinks about the fluorescent lights, the way you would traverse the cramped space, the tray lifted high, the liquid in the glasses sloshing but never spilling. Warmth coats those memories, despite the lights being almost always blue.

“You’ve added a lot of bridges,” Namjoon murmured, pointing to several drawings that arch over a river. Yoongi smiles to himself, sketching out a grand theatre.

“Wouldn’t they be nice if you wanted to go for an evening stroll?”

“Or after going to the theatre, you can walk along the length of them,” Yoongi adds.

Namjoon hums, “sounds incredibly romantic.”

Yoongi replies in a light laugh.

It really is.

-

“I’m ready to go back, Yoongi. I can’t be here forever.”

You held his hands, tilting your head slightly so he could look at you.

He hates that he can see gold before the true colour of your eyes.

“Are you sure? It might be too soon…”

It’s been a month since you came back from the facility. Objectively, things were good. You were following the programme faithfully, diverting the urges to more productive things. The apartment is filled with your canvases and new projects. You knitted him a scarf that he uses from time to time.

“Remember what you promised me.”

Yoongi inhaled deeply. It was his job to tell you that things would be alright but here you were, prompting him instead.

“Okay.”

-

As the Chief Architect of this city, Yoongi had privileges. For one, he could control the admission of contraband such as drugs or speakeasies.

He sees the drug that leads to gold irises and comatose.

Another image materialises: you in the chair, pumped full of that liquid concoction in an attempt to trick your body into thinking that it could survive without it.

This was his legacy. A city he forged to preserve what you meant to him.

With a heavy hand, he crosses it out until he could no longer see the words.

-

Yoongi watches, leaning his body against the frame of the door for support. It’s your first day back to work. He observes how you curl your index finger at the back of your shoe, slotting your foot in. On your shoulder was a leather sling bag with the usual art supplies, your apron, and the papers to explain your absence.

“Call me if you need anything, I won’t be able to catch your message on time if you text,” he warns, his eyes darting over your figure.

You turn to him, your eyes in their normal shade, the gold aptly hidden by contacts. When you smiled, he does too.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

He chews the inside of his cheek as you round the corner to go to the elevator.

A part of him thinks that it might not be fine.

Another part of him, the part that he clings to, hopes that it would be.

-

Memory is a choice that Yoongi would rather relinquish.

He was doing sogood, getting back to his usual rhythm. It was unhealthy, yes, but the prolonged periods of concentration was what he was used to. Eating, sleeping, and even bathing came secondary. In those moments, he felt like himself: like he had a purpose.

Yoongi runs his finger over the buttons of the phone, it’s late and he’s restless. His home is far too large, far too cavernous to concentrate. He used to love having a space that, upon the first glance, never seemed to end. Back when he was young, he and family all lived on top of each other, privacy was a luxury he never thought he’d be able to afford.

Now, it’s all glass windows coupled with walnut accents to break up the enormity of it all. The lights were switched off and the rain drums endlessly against the window. In the silence, he realises that the glass walls he’s built for himself were the cruelest. He can see through them but there was no way out.

“I don’t think what I’m making will be worthy of anything, much less the Emperor,” he said to the mouthpiece.

Below, he sees the Imperial City become drenched with rain, the sheets of water distorting the neon signage on several buildings into psychedelic whorls.

“Breathe, Yoongi-ah.”

He tries.

In and out.

In…

and…

out.

“I want it to be perfect, I want it to mean something but I can’t see how I can make something like that,” he said.

“It’s alright, Yoongi-ah. It will be fine. When do you leave?”

Yoongi blinks rapidly.

Is it already the end of the month?

At Seokjin’s comment, he gives a cursory glance at the paper calendar that hung near the door to the kitchen. It’s a couple of weeks until the visit.

That was the reason to the disruption of his productivity.

“I still have time,” he said, sitting back down on his desk. The parchment is still blank, his pencil stays sharp and unused. He’s right back where he started.

“Just try. Try to look ahead rather than in the past this time.”

But Yoongi can’t think beyond the past when he ought to dream of the future. He stays in your embrace, in the soft murmur of your voice, the heat of the first city he saw destroyed, the gravel of the cobbled path you both traversed. He remembers his parents, the slums, the starvation that tainted his youth. He remembers the first night at AMBROX, the small squares that dissolved on his tongue, the smiles you couldn’t wipe off as you stumbled through the door of the apartment.

Earlier, he was so sure that he could capture you and make a city based on a feeling.

He grips the phone until his knuckles go numb.

“I’ll try.”

-

Yoongi finds the small, square stickers in your drawer when folding clothes from the laundry. You were still at work and wouldn’t be home until after the day has officially ended. That was no too long from now.

He arranges them on his palm, wonders how something minute and opaque could be so potent.

Yoongi never thought his patience could ever reach a state of finite. Selfishly, he thinks that it was an insult to relinquish control to the unremarkable squares on his palm. Your addiction was vile and robbed you of your own mind. The facility never prepared him for when living in the present was no longer effective, there was no fresh beginnings and in truth, he was tired.

As soon as he hears the front door open, he closes his eyes and sighs at the ceiling. He had been fooled by you, blinded with trust that things could get better. Resentment pierces the fog in his chest, he shouldn’t have chosen that part of him that hoped.

“Yoongi?”

He crushes them in his palm.

“In here.”

You emerged through the doorway. From afar, the contacts faltered in hiding the gold that fought though. He follows your eyes to the open drawer, then to his palm.

“Yoongi…”

“Have you been using again?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line, ashamed. It’s in the way your posture shrinks away from him, anchored by the vice-like grip your hands had on the door frame. It wasn’t quite fear in your eyes, but… relief.

You didn’t care that he knew.

“I need to hear it from you. Have you been using again?”

He breathes life into the thoughts that he fought tooth and nail to stay buried. A part of him knew that it would never work the way he wanted it to. That to be surrounded by everything that insulated you from poverty, destitution, and scarcity didn’t really matter. Not when you were deteriorating before his eyes. So he protects himself by wielding his anger. It was too large, growing from this obtuse feeling to something beyond conscious repression.

“We’ve talked about this, we’ve done every single step, I’ve gone to every single appointment with you, why can’t you just…” His voice is unlike his own, it sounds more authoritative. He thinks this is how the Emperor addresses his adversaries, his chest puffed up, and eyes ablaze.

You shrink back, he could almost see the self-recrimination stirring in your gold irises. Yoongi hated gold, he hated what it represented, he hated what it did to you, to him.

The gap increases, he lets it.

“Fucking talk to me,” he said, his voice ending in a tremor, his chest is tight, and the tips of his fingers are cold.

“Yoongi, it was just once. I wasn’t going to take the rest,” you said, your back hitting the wall. “It was a mistake.”

Something in his jaw ticks, his molars clenching with the force capable of grinding it flat. He was a fool to think that of all things that could awry, he counted you relapsing as an exception.

“It was a mistake,” you said again, more feeble this time, aware of the farcical nature of your admission.

He thought about leaving you then, it came to him in the span of seconds. He would have left you and never looked back.

The mistake wasn’t yours. It was his for thinking that he could trust you.

-

Contrary to his reservations, the proposal that Yoongi’s sends through is approved in less than a day.

In front was the official seal from the Emperor and a well-intentioned hamper of celebratory items. Namjoon pours the bubbling champagne into a spare flute while Jungkook examines the label of the wine near the corner of the stack.

“Congratulations, hyung!” He beamed, his eyes shining.

Yoongi exhales, letting the tensions in his shoulders dissolve. Jungkook hums and helps himself to a glass of whiskey instead. The final plans were laid out neatly in front of them and Yoongi meets Jungkook in the eye soon after he reads the name of the utopia he has built.

Galtea.

Chief Architect: Min Yoongi

Construction commencement date: Expedited.

“This really is beautiful, hyung,” Jungkook said, his eyes scanning the rendered structures.

Yoongi nods, lips in a straight line. But he thinks that if you were here, you’d say the same thing.

-

While you were back in the facility, Yoongi thinks up a city that was meant to prosper like flowers that turn towards the sun. It was the most involved he’s ever been, overseeing its construction at every stage.

On the day when the gates are bolted to their place, he rushes to pick you up. You shield your eyes from the sun, already smiling. Sola was as cheerful as its inhabitants, complete with buildings as tall as they can be, linked together with vines from each point. It’s a city in constant movement, windmills attached to the roofs of houses, stuccoed belvederes at the highest points, and gilded weather vanes twirling in the wind.

Usually, it takes a lot of effort to even think of a city on your own. But Sola materialised in less than a week.

He thinks that the things that saved him would save you too.

So he builds and builds, tireless in the face of looming defeat.

“It’s wonderful, Yoongi.”

He looks at your eyes, now bloodshot with gold. It hurts a little to see you this way so his hand leads you forward.

“C’mon. I’ve got more to show you.”

-

As soon as the location for Galtea was finalised, Namjoon accompanies Yoongi to check the inventory.

“Will you go back to Urban Planning when this is over?”

Yoongi flips the paper over the clipboard, everything was accounted for. He thinks of Hoseok and the office in the lower floors.

“They’re waiting for me,” he replied, “this was just a favour for the Emperor.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw, “you’ve truly outdone yourself with this one, hyung.”

Yoongi fights the urge to bite his nails. They were were behind large slabs of marble in one of the warehouses in Imperial City. Several of the foremen chatter nearby, Yoongi wanted to stay alert for any queries.

“Is it because of her?”

Namjoon sets his eyes on him, showing that he knew more than he cared to impart. The clipboard nearly drops from his grasp. A foreman waves him over, much to Yoongi’s relief.

“Did something happen to her, hyung?”

The tension returns on his shoulders. He walks away, leaving Namjoon’s question suspended in the air.

-

Days after you were released, things regained a semblance of routine. You paint while Yoongi takes as many days off as he can. It’s fine, he’s saved enough for rainy days like these.

Currently, you were staring at him from behind an enormous canvas. He blushes from the attention, turning the page of a book he’s picked up to occupy him. The story was a folklore, about a girl who fell down a crevice and her lover, who discovered her too late.

“Haven’t you done enough portraits of me?”

You shake your head, setting the paintbrush down so you could straddle him, carding your fingers through his hair, always in a determined arc to appear smart. He knew you preferred it mussed so he doesn’t stop you.

“It can never be enough, not when you’re my muse.”

A blush blooms in his cheeks, his mouth daring him to smile.

“Ah, I preferred it when we weren’t talking,” he confessed.

You laughed, kissing him enthusiastically.

During these times, Yoongi allowed himself to pretend.

-

The building of Galtea takes less than two months. Yoongi stands above a parapet as workers fashioned its parameters precisely.

It’s a glorious city borne from a treacherous past. Yoongi revived it, pulling out its structures from the ashes of war. It overflows with abundance. New buildings made from new materials, new and improved landmarks, and new faces to inhabit it. In a way, this utopia had no connection to the former Galtea other than through its name. Yoongi tried to preserve the fragments of what gave it its splendor: the theatre, the town hall, and the bridge.

But it means something different now. The city carries your essence in every corner, like a trace of perfume.

It results in enchantment and a grin on Yoongi’s face that he couldn’t quite wipe off.

He finds himself sitting in a café by the gates, cupping his chin with his hand. Streams of people walk through, their eyes filled with wonder. He knows that it’s better than anything else he’s created, leaps and bounds from Palatia, Arora, or Sola. It’s a city that shall never be plundered nor deserted. More surprisingly, having it in front of him was something that thaws him. A feeling that evaded him until now.

“You did it, hyung,” Jungkook said, smiling at a couple who ambled along a bridge, stopping to point at the kaleidoscope river.

Yoongi licks his lips, finally allowing himself to breath a sigh he had been holding back.

-

The final city that Yoongi builds before leaving for the Urban Planning department was Juria. It’s inhabitants are frugal, meek, and morally righteous. The Emperor was annoyed and wanted to spend less. Yoongi delivers by building a city made up of steel and concrete.

At home, things were bleak. Your irises shine gold and all you could do was remain at home. Yoongi makes enough for the both of you but he was in the office for most of the day. He wishes that he was able to split himself in half, to spare you the eerie silence of the apartment for hours on end.

Demoting himself to Urban Planning meant that he only needed to be in the office three times a week. He tried to trick himself into thinking that it was a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Namjoon doesn’t cart his desk into storage, keeps his instruments clean and dusted. Yoongi feels nothing, consumed by this need to guard you.

Each day, he sweeps the apartment for anything you would hide.

Yet each night, he comes back he finds you in the corner of the bedroom, staring out into the window. Your eyes are unresponsive but they glow, golden rings in a sea of bloodshot veins.

You don’t even talk to each other, adversaries in your own home.

-

Hoseok’s eyebrows shoot up at the article.

Galtea has proved to be a beloved city. The Emperor lauds Chief Architect, Min Yoongi: “This is a true Utopia.”

Yoongi couldn’t even look at him in the eye, his face burning from embarrassment.

“This is huge, hyung. Your city made it on the headlines! Are you sure you want to stay with us here?” Hoseok said, jokingly.

It’s a few days before Yoongi intends to visit you and his nerves have prevented him from sleeping properly. He wears the dark circles under his eyes in heavy-lidded blinks, his lips parched of moisture.

Everyone knew about Galtea apart from you.

“It’s just a favour for Emperor,” he said, chewing his bottom lip. The skin splits and blood rushes out, he keeps it tucked under his teeth, tasting the copper.

“Still hyung, it would be a waste your talent on making barracks or concrete structures.”

Urban Planning was responsible for making lacklustre buildings for cities that still have impoverished streets. The sole criteria was whether it was good enough to sleep in. Once that was satisfied, the Emperor was free of his conscience and neglected certain populace. There was no thought or art put into it.

This was a consequence of greed. There was no need to drive people from their homes, lest it should signal an uprising. Such chances were low, if not, zero. Perhaps the Emperor realised this far too late, bowing under the pressure of the cities he’s conquered. In the end, this boundless exertion to conquer ended up being less than what it was.

“They’ll be fine without me,” Yoongi said, pushing the article away. Hoseok shook his head, firm in his belief.

“You’re different, hyung. You have talent, you can create.”

Yoongi thinks of Jungkook, how he would suit his desk instead after his apprenticeship was finished.

“I’m not so different if I can be easily replaced.”

-

It’s the eleventh month and snow covers the whole of Imperial City.

After a gruelling shift at Urban Planning, Yoongi sees you, curled up small by the piano. Not fast enough, he drops to his knees, hauling you up. Your eyes are glazed over, gold dust in the corner of your lips.

It was hard to come back and find you like this. You don’t even hide anymore. But it was even harder for him to not be able to do anything about it.

He says your name, forcing his worried tone in the back of his throat so it can come out in a soothing whisper. He caresses your cheek, pretending that he’s not touching clammy skin. You mumble something incoherent, twitching again, your veins blazing like golden roots under your skin. He hated to think that this was the only time you’d feel peace.

“Mmh… Yoongi,” you slurred, twisting away from him.

He holds on to you, sitting you up properly, cradling your head to prevent it from dropping forward. Your clothes were just about soaked with sweat, so he lifts the hem and leaves you in your underwear.

It’s like this nowadays.

“I’m here. It’s okay. I’m here.”

With your bare skin on show, he sees more of the gold that made your veins glow. It pulses in the same rhythm as your heartbeat.

Your addiction has gotten worse but he pretends.

It was just a passing fever and not as a result of a crippling obsession wreaking havoc in your body.

Some part of him nags that it was his fault.

So all he ever did was pretend.

-

Namjoon finds Yoongi filling out a form to request for time off. It’s longer than what he would previously request, but he thinks he needs more time.

“Hyung?”

“Hm?”

“Where do you go at the end of every month?”

Yoongi halts his writing, sits so upright that he seemed instantly rigid. Namjoon cleared his throat, not understanding that he unknowingly crossed a boundary.

“Not very far,” he said.

“I’m sure it’s not your fault, hyung.”

Yoongi’s inhaled sharply.

“What do you know?”

Taken aback, Namjoon hands him a pencil that managed to roll of the surface of his desk. Yoongi resumes his task, content that he wasn’t going to be asked further questions.

-

The final night, Yoongi is cradling you, murmuring hollow words in your ear.

It’s fine. It’s alright. I’ll help you, you’ll get better. I promise.

You’re unresponsive in his arms and all he could do was hold you, whispering empty promises as the flashing lights pierce the gloom of the apartment.

-

Yoongi thinks that he’s a person left alone rather than being alone.

In preparation, Yoongi packs a bag with items that were familiar to you. A small sketchbook, a couple of your favourite brushes and paints, a few pencils. On top, he places a photo album of all of your captured memories together. The gilded frame on the cover carried the picture of you and him in front of Arora. He takes his time, meticulous in the way he arranges them so when you were able to seek out personal items, your delight would grow.

Later, to pass the time, he reads articles about Galtea .

Its people are happy. They walk along its bridges, attend the plays in the elaborate theatres he’s incorporated. The underground clubs thrive nightly, its town hall hosts festivals where everyone can take part. In this Galtea, the sun shines just enough to ensure that the crops are plentiful. There is no such things as outskirts and its people aren’t starving.

He curls up, somewhat nauseous in the large bed, with its dark walnut frame, drowning in the space of it all. He embraces a pillow that isn’t you, hear the creak on the floorboards that weren’t yours, and track the shadows that fall on him knowing that they were from the outside.

It frightened him that he has to conjure you in this way, as if he is embracing the thought of you since the real version was always going to be out of reach.

Two days before, he visits Galtea again. He wanders along the streets with a cloak hiding his face. Each step sounds the same, he got every detail down to the bricks on the floor, the slant of the buildings, the vibrant tapestries that hang on bronze poles. He reaches the place were you first spoke to each other, but now, instead of lines for food, there are cafés, restaurants, and bistros.

Incidentally, it’s a city for everything left that’s important to him.

It’s a utopia that will outlast any war, any threat, or strife.

A city for you.

Past its walls, in a vantage point that only he knows, was the view of a humble cottage. It’s the same one in his dream. He had to bargain with the foremen with ordering completely different materials for its construction but it got built, down to the red, lacquered door. For now, it stays empty.

One day, he wants to take you there and start over.

One day, he’d liked to sit across from you as you painted him. He would never complain anymore when you would tell him to sit still.

One day, he hopes to watch Galtea with you from the best point, where you could see the city glow under the stars.


previously. / next.

masterlist.

Utopia. | III. | Min Yoongi, 5k

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:Yoongi wants to build a utopia based on how he feels.But he fears that all that is left is ugly, festering emotions. In spite of that, he remembers that he had hope, once.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for implied/referenced drug use; implied/referenced drug addiction; angst; brief depictions of war; implied/referenced PTSD; minor character death; the tags areheavy, so proceed with caution; I’ve tried to be as vague as possible but still - Alternate Universe Fantasy/Magical Realism ft.Architect!Min Yoongi.

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This is also available onAO3.

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-

There are benefits to withholding information.

For one, Yoongi was able to work through his emotions alone. Mostly keeping to himself, it was an unspoken rule to those around him that he preferred to have his head down, hard at work. Solitary as he was in his habits, he liked being an island. Besides, those he worked with didn’t carry the same burden he did. The claws of guilt breaking the grooves of his brain becomes as easy as drawing breath in the quiet of the night. He didn’t need grating small talk to add to the fatigue.

But there are also drawbacks. Like the obvious sympathy conveyed in concerned stares. Namjoon was always helpless at the face of Yoongi’s torment. Then came the overwhelming emotion of ineptness that followed the lack of inspiration he feels. To miss you was to miss himself as a person and as a creator of cities.

“Hyung, it’s past three, you should go home and rest.”

Yoongi shakes his head even though they’re conversing over the phone.

“I have to get over this, whatever this is. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened before,” he said after a while.

The glass in front of him is empty, the ice cubes diluting the whiskey collected at the bottom.

“Is it hard to revisit those memories, hyung?”

Yoongi surprises himself with his answer.

“No. Those times were the happiest I ever was.”

Namjoon inhales sharply and Yoongi senses that there were questions at the tip of his tongue.

“You always work hard and I don’t think the Emperor wouldn’t trust you this much if you didn’t make good cities.”

Just then, it began to rain, blurring the outside scenery into a cascade of watery colours. Yoongi rubs his temple with his index and middle finger, tugging the skin against his skull. All he ever did was live in a cycle of pain these days.

“I don’t think working hard can always guarantee success,” he replied.

“All of the magnificent cities you built were as a result of your hard work, hyung. You poured everything into constructing those new homes,” Namjoon continued.

But Yoongi didn’t want to remember.

Remembering conjures not only the images of the cities he made, but also of images of you. He rocked the crystalline tumbler to and fro. The amber liquid tipped to the side, rendered pale under the moonlight.

“Try to get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day, hyung.”

The line goes dead and Yoongi’s alone.

He’s alone as he traverses the apartment. Everything remains more or less the same and he tries to erode the memories he’s attached to the place and its items. If he can’t find happiness, the least he could do is accept the face of his own misery.

A mug was just a mug. Not something special that he kept because you told him you found the chipped rim unique. The easel leaning against the wall of his office, which used to be belong to you, he used to hang random things. There was no paint left in the house and the finished work you had hanging on the wall, he stored elsewhere. Conscious forgetting helps the raw ache in his chest, a Pavlovian conditioning he fashioned against the abyss that awaited him in his thoughts.

Yoongi is honest but never with himself.

There was nothing he could do to bring you back, so he stays where he was, remembering to forget.

-

With a couple of cities under his portfolio, Yoongi begins to make serious money.

Imperial City had a notorious night life and it was unavoidable to live in its walls without getting your hands a little dirty. Those hard to get places were scarcely advertised but you and Yoongi were at the wrong place at the right time.

AMBROX was a known and exclusive club catering for those at the upper echelons of society. Yoongi was eligible because of the status in his ID. The Imperial Seal could get you almost anywhere. Inside was a basement space, cushioned in crushed velvet walls where the patrons were ushered into smaller rooms hidden by thick curtains. It smelled sweet, like bursts of vanilla were injected in the air every second or two.

“Is this really how the other half live?” You whispered, rubbing your arm.

Yoongi’s eyes darted along the main reception area. He saw employees gathering coats and jackets, others were talking with patrons, their smiles a little to wide, implicitly asking for a tip. He passes someone heading out, their irises were like gold rings, burning bright in the dim interior.

“It might be how some spend their free time,” he guessed, distracted by an usher who gently took his jacket from him.

You stuck close, your fingers curling over his as you were taken to an even darker booth. Few words were exchanged between you and the server as a silver tray appears on the small table. The sofa’s were comfortable, moulding to the contours of his back.

The lid is lifted and you look at the server.

“First time?” They asked, their tone hinting boredom.

In front were two shot glasses, two pills, and a small container with two square stickers, small enough to be discrete.

“How do you want it?” They asked, setting the lid down next to the tray.

Yoongi doesn’t even get a chance to speak before you reached forward, taking the small container. The server nods, waving his fingers over the rejected options. The shot glasses and pills disappear in a plume of vanilla scented smoke. Soon after, they leave, overlapping the curtains for privacy.

“Yoongi, look,” you said, placing an opaque square sticker on his palm.

You don’t wait before placing it on the wet surface of your tongue, humming as it dissolves in no time. He swallowed thickly as your eyes become flecked with gold, your pupils blowing to an impossibly wide size. You laughed, no, giggledas you folded into yourself, the side your head hitting the back of the couch in a muffled thump.

“Try it,” you coaxed, pushing his palm up near his mouth. You were always the one willing to try things, willing to go a step further than him with anything.

At your suggestion, he places it at the tip of his tongue, shivering slightly at the saccharine taste. He smiles like you did, feeling like he was wading through honey. A sickly and syrupy weight descended upon his bones, if he moved, it was in slow motion. When he closed his eyes, he saw visions of cities he had yet to build.

Yoongi laughed with you, threading your fingers together. You were so beautiful under the light, aglow in his gaze. He grins, tracing the line of your jaw, wanting to say something.

What did I want to say again?

You come closer, kissing him artificially. It was more of a peck than anything but he feels his heart swell within his ribcage.

“‘Am meant to say something,” he mumbled, lost in your touch. You nod, bumping your forehead against his.

“Feels good, right?” You asked, brushing your thumb on the high point of his cheekbone.

Yeah. It does.

Inexplicably so.

Later, when caught his reflection on the way out, he sees his own eyes have a bright ring of gold against the brown. You stumble out, laughing like a pair of fools, hands outstretched to the sky in wonder.

In the taxi, you sighed in bliss, your nose pressed against the crook of his neck.

“Yoongi?”

“Mn?”

“That was nice,” you murmured, your breath so soft on his skin. He squeezes your hand in his, clammy from being pressed together at the palms, your fingertips come up cold. He meets the driver’s eyes through the mirror, they dart back on the road as quickly as they landed on him.

“Think you could you get used to it?” He asked, searching your face. The gold is fainter now, but you still had an expression of bliss through your half-lidded eyes and easy smile.

“Your promotion or being high?”

He shrugs, the view from the window outside is a blur of colours. Imperial City shines in the night as it does in the day.

“Everything.”

-

A knock at the door startles Yoongi from his uncomfortable sleep. He stretches, taking his time given that the visitor arrived at an ungodly hour. He leaves the couch, pushing his hair back with a damp palm.

“Hyung, it’s been a while.”

Jimin greets him with a shock of pink hair, his irises aglow in a bright, metallic gold.

“Come in.”

He waves the younger man inside, unashamed of the clutter that decorated the hallway. Jimin side-steps the mountain of shoes that spilled from the alcoves, then pretends not to notice the growing amount of dishes stacked like a tower on the sink. The apartment is submerged in darkness but even that couldn’t drive away the oppressive atmosphere of decay.

“Hyung…”

Yoongi sighed and dragged the chair back, waving for Jimin to take a seat.

“How come you’re here?”

Jimin takes a moment to reply. He looks at the multiple drafts of unfinished cities that buried the mahogany table.

“You called me, hyung.”

Yoongi blinks at the younger man’s reply.

“I did?”

Jimin nods, watching Yoongi’s face pinch at something that slipped his mind.

“You said you wanted to talk about something.”

Yoongi cleared his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was worth being embarrassed over. Everyone knew he was having a harder time than most. Jimin lowered his gaze, thumbing the abandoned designs. The rain stopped and the buildings glisten on all sides.

I wanted to talk about her.

“It’s for work.”

-

When Yoongi had some time off, he liked to stay at home. Thinking drained his energy and spending time with you recharged him. Though he would never be explicit in that, some things he liked to keep to himself.

But he knew it showed, especially in moments like these.

“Don’t laugh. This is harder than it looks, okay?” You said, dropping a pencil, then wincing as it rolled on the floor.

You were in front of his drafting table, the angle being too steep. Yoongi is reclined on the sofa opposite, a smile creeping up his lips as you made a preliminary sketch.

“I’m not laughing,” he retorted, dragging his hand over his face to hide the twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“I heard you.”

Yoongi coughed and inhaled deeply, “I was going to fall asleep so what you heard was a yawn.”

You sighed, and he allowed himself to smile.

“Wow, you’re so supportive and romantic. I don’t build cities for a living you know. I just teach kids how to paint.”

Yoongi turns his head to the side, sees you with a concentrated look on your face. In this new life you paint and teach at a prestigious high school even without much qualifications. Both of you live with more than what you had envisioned for yourselves.

“Want me to be supportive and romantic? Like that old film you always talked about? Ghost, was it?”

Before Galtea was reduced to rubble, you would talk to him about a film you saw once at the theatre. You would tell him that they had salvaged some copies of films from the past, films that were at least hundreds of years old. The one scene you would always go back to was the characters shaping some clay. To him, it sounded bothersome as creating things tended to be solitary, at least in the beginning. He deemed that the previous inhabitants of the world seemed more romantic then, at least in their scripts.

“You want me to recreate something like that and be romantic? Like sit behind you and guide the pencil with my hand on yours?”

He could envision you smiling behind the drafting table, rubbing your nose out of habit.

“No…” you trailed off, your eyes practically beckoning him to do the opposite.

The pencil glides over the parchment, he thinks you might on the cusp of creating something but there was no harm in helping you out. He gets up, crossing the distance and settles behind you. With his legs flanking yours, he layers his grip on your hand, pinching your fingertips to control the pencil.

Comfortable, you leant back, resting on his chest, letting him guide the lines over the imaginary city you’ve constructed. There were details you incorporated, columns that ended in stars, what looked like an observatory in the centre, houses that floated above the ground. He feels an idea flower in his mind. You hold his wrist with your free hand, adding another point to a different star.

“You’ve been thinking about your own city?”

You hummed.

“When I was at the orphanage, I spent a lot of time on the roof. I was tired of looking down, I wanted to be part of something infinite.”

And Yoongi understood.

It’s not quite Galtea, but something else altogether.

“I can make this real if you like.”

You shift your hold so that you were holding his hand. He couldn’t see your expression with your back turned to him.

“You drawing it is enough.”

-

“How are things back in your home?” Yoongi asked, pushing a crystalline tumbler towards Jimin.

The pink haired boy shrugs, chewing his bottom lip after he tipped his head back, the whiskey draining from the glass.

“Same old thing, hyung. My parents don’t let me out of their sight, I can’t work for more than three hours at a time.”

Yoongi remembers Jimin’s affluent upbringing, the palatial homes of Eriteria spanned acres, complete with copious orangeries. The sun always shone in Eriteria and Jimin was a golden child of prosperity and wealth.

“Do you miss it?”

The whiskey gets refilled to a third of the glass.

“Miss what?”

Jimin tips his head back in an almost violent snap, widening his mouth so that the amber liquid is deposited in an effortless cascade. His irises pulse in a glittery ring of gold, his rose hair falling back into place in a deliberate curve over his brow. Yoongi thinks he should choose his words carefully but abandons that task. He was never was one to pry but he was tired of pondering.

“Being high.”

Jimin frowns, pinching his eyebrows together. The gold in his irises flash with every blink. Yoongi can’t change things so seeks out answers that drip venom to his conscience.

“I don’t know. Sometimes, I miss feeling like… nothing.

Yoongi thinks about the time when you began hiding the square stickers, your averted gaze when you knew your irises would shine unnaturally. Those became permanent if you were getting a steady supply and your eyes lit up like the stars.

“Why did you get into it?”

Jimin adjusts himself on his seat, his posture loosening like a puppet with its strings cut. The whiskey Yoongi had was imported, aged and sublime. It also sank in your blood easily, another high. Yoongi watches as Jimin picks at the skin on his thumb, pinching it with his teeth then pulls.

“I dunno, it felt good for a start -”

Yoongi remembers.

“And I thought I was in control. I didn’t go looking for it or anything, it just fell on my lap. Before, it was hard for me to stop thinking. When I got high, it was like everything stopped and I was just… floating.”

Jimin’s tone takes on a dreamy cadence, as if he was back in that drug-addled headspace.

“Do you think it was the same for her?” He asked, meeting Jimin in the eye.

“Could be. I’ve spoken to others who had our problem, they said that things slowed. The drug was great for people who couldn’t get out of their head, ironically enough.”

Yoongi sighed, taking another swig because he was extrapolating again. There weren’t any answers he could gleam and those that he could always left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“I think it’s because of the war. We didn’t see each other for a long time after Galtea fell, she never told me what happened to her during that time either.”

Jimin rubbed his thumb along his bottom lip, toying with the tumbler in his hand. Yoongi knew that the addiction won over him, as steady as the vines that crept along the walls of abandoned buildings in the cities that were pillaged.

“Who knows why people actually do things, hyung.”

Yoongi thought he knew you. He thought that you could never hide from each other after what you went through. Even when Galtea fell and you were driven out of your homes by the person that he now serves, you had each other. That’s what Yoongi tells himself when he feels like there’s a tourniquet to his chest.

“Is she in the same facility now?”

Yoongi shakes his head, tipping the glass back and wincing. The whiskey wasn’t as painful on his throat, but he could feel his chest spasm. Jimin was the only person he could talk to about you freely, like the three of you exist in this level of understanding.

A nexus of things that involve saccharine stickers and golden irises.

“She’s being cared for near here. Somewhere more advanced.”

-

War showed up differently, depending on who you were.

For Yoongi, it was a muted playback. A reel of shrapnel piercing the earth, vivid images of it obliterating his home. It was constant, endless. Building cities drowned them out. Creating something out of nothing compensated for all the destruction that he saw. In that sense, he could forgive himself when it became his turn to pillage in his own way.

But it wasn’t like that with you.

You held it in like you were a vessel.

He chastises himself, thinking about how he could miss something this integral. But he forgets how hard you tried to hide it. During the times you thought he wasn’t looking, your hands would tremble or your voice would sound far away. Perhaps, due to his own private limitations, he hung onto the hope of it passing like it did for him.

All things passed; such was the principle that he subscribed to.

Yet even in the peace of your slumber, he could tell of your hidden tumult through your fitful pulse, the cold sweat absorbed by the sheets at the crack of dawn.

One time on accident, he dropped some of his drafting instruments. The clatter of metal on hardwood had you collapsing on the floor, your hands covering your ears as you rocked yourself backwards and forwards. He came near you, apologising through the soothing motion of his hand up and down your back but to no avail. You were no longer in the room with him, muttering intelligibly, eyes wide and breath heaving.

In that moment, he was reminded the when you fled Galtea, you had to find your own bearings. What happened in the two years you didn’t see each other was information he wasn’t privy to. You had said a comment in to him in passing, during a time when the threat of uprising against the Emperor gained traction.

You can’t beat a gun, Yoongi. You just can’t.

Sometimes, you painted him a picture and he wasn’t sure if it was out of choice. Your eyes couldn’t meet his and he understood. Ugly things have a habit of taking root and even the dregs of war had the potential to shred you from the inside out.

He knows because he catches you staring into space, paintbrush coated in bright vermillion dripping messily on the canvas.

Concerned, he says your name and you laugh it off, resuming a dramatic arc. Surmising that that was meant to be deliberate, it somehow ended up looking like a bloody smile on pure white cotton. But you couldn’t hide the shattered handful of mugs as a result of that phantom tremor in your hands.

War never left you and Yoongi couldn’t do anything about it.

He thought of all of this, drowning out the explanation of the physician who led him to the hallway lined with observation pods. Similar facilities dot the area of Imperial City. There were some excesses that grew unmanageable, and you fell prey to the drug that turned your eyes into the sun. With the windows clear, he recognised the children of some of the officials he knew, all with vapid stares and gold-flecked irises.

“She’s doing well. We’re administering our first-rate programme to wean her off the drug.”

In front of a discrete window, Yoongi forces himself to watch as they pump a bag with liquid gold. The dose seemed more than what he was used to seeing, attached to a slim wire that ended in a needle feeding into your veins.

“Can she feel anything?” He asked, his mouth twisting as your head dropped to the side.

The physician pushes their glasses up, their nose pointed down at your chart on the clipboard. It was your first visit and Yoongi hoped that it would be your last.

“Not usually.”

Yoongi didn’t need to hear more. It was too late and money was no use if it couldn’t bring you back.

On the way out, someone bumps into him. A boy with rose pink hair and a smile far too bright for the environment.

“What were you doing that far into the facility?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

Yoongi bargained with himself whether he should talk to this presumptuous individual. As a form of caution, he doesn’t answer, walking along the stretch of the hallway, heading for the exit.

“Hello?”

“I’m here to visit,” he replied, curt.

“Hmph. You must be fucking rich for them to allow you to see the procedures.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw.

No amount of money could buy what I want.

He keeps walking while the kid follows.

“Are they important to you? The person you visited?”

He halts in the rhythm of his walk, glancing at him. One look should determine it all, one look that he never could keep in for too long. It made him appear as dejected as he felt.

“She is,” he replied.

A hand comes out, waiting for him to take it.

“Jimin.”

Yoongi stares at it, sees the plastic tag with an iron-clad seal of Imperial City Rehab on the his wrist. A discrete, plastic rectangle showed more information.

Park Jimin. Third visit. Patient no. 1310

He takes the handshake, wraps his fingers over Jimin’s palm. His touch is cold like yours.

“Yoongi.”

-

“I’m building a new city for the Emperor,” Yoongi divulges.

“Ah.”

It’s deep into the night, all of the blinds were drawn and Jimin had taken to tidy up the place. Yoongi allowed him since Jimin wanted to help. Tasks like these gave the illusion of normalcy, of order. After a while, his apartment became noticeably cleaner, the items previously scattered were now in their respective homes. Yoongi wish he could be placed like that, he often felt destitute nowadays.

“It’s been… difficult,” he added, clearing his throat.

Jimin nods, this time from the couch, his gaze to scenery outside. Yoongi’s apartment was well above ground, his view being the surrounding sky scrapers and luxury apartments that this area was famed for. It was funny to think that he had spent much of his early life avoiding the idea of looking down when that was the only thing he was doing lately.

“Were you given any further instructions, hyung?”

The Emperor wrote him a letter that he destroyed when he thought he wasn’t the person for the job. But the words were etched in his mind all the same.

I want you to build me a utopia.

“I think he wants me to build something perfect, something important. A utopia was what he said.”

Jimin turned, searching Yoongi’s face and finding uncertainty.

“She reminds you of all of those things.”

Yoongi nods, honest for once. Jimin lifts his legs, folding them close to his chest so he could embrace them.

“Have you tried talking to her, hyung? I’m sure that she’ll be able to hear you.”

Shame breeds itself in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach. When he talked to you, all that came out were apologies.

I’m sorry I didn’t help you in time.

I’m sorry for ignoring your unhappiness.

I’m sorry.

“I thought we were happy,” he said, after a while. Jimin looks at him with sympathy, his golden irises are muted.

“It could happen to anyone, hyung.”

The silence that followed was telling. Both he and Jimin knew the futility of those words. It happened to Jimin and he got out. He now lives a normal life, and even though he wears his addiction in a visible marker, he can rejoin society, making something of himself again. Yoongi doesn’t know if your fate was riddled with rotten luck but he blames himself for even taking you to that part of Imperial City.

-

The first time you are checked in, Yoongi is allowed to visit twice a week and he stays overnight when he can. He’s always thankful that when he is over you are lucid, or at least trying your hardest to be.

Together on the single bed, too rickety for the amount he’s paid for, and when the moonlight is the sole source of clarity, the quiet becomes inviting rather than insidious. He ignores the tag on your wrist that labels you as ‘Patient,’ he ignores the intermittent shivers you couldn’t conceal and keeps you close.

“When I was back in the orphanage, they told me that my ancestors came from the North, that they were people of the sea sold to owners for hard labour and very little pay,” you murmured, running your fingertip over a prominent vein on your wrist. The slightest pressure pushes the gold close to the surface, it glows and reminds both of you of your malaise.

Yoongi knows that you were brought to the orphanage at the age of seven.

“They told me that they were people of the stars, they always looked up, finding safety in the constellations,” you said as he listened.

“Galtea must have been disappointing,” he joked. You turn to him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I would have had a better time if I stayed where I was. I met you in Galtea by chance and it was the best thing that ever happened to me,” you replied, draping your leg over his.

He blinked. You think that you met by chance for the first time on the way to get food rations but he thinks about the nights he spent gawking at you in that club. He realises that he never told you about the very first moment he saw you. Instead, he pushes his palm against yours, the steady thrum of your pulse radiates. He adjusts the narrative to appease.

“You think that chances are trustworthy, then,” he said.

You lean up and kiss his cheek, your lips are warm and inviting.

“Of course. It’s how we met.”

-

Jimin gets up and walks towards a bookshelf. He takes out a leather bound tome, flipping through it with curiosity. Yoongi has memorised those pages, an album of sorts. Still frame images of his glittering career, his accolades in two-dimensional snap shots. Architects were revered in Imperial City, though outside its limits, it might be a different story. Jimin stops flipping the pages, the tome perfectly halved in the middle. Yoongi meets him, staring down at the picture.

It stands out because it was a small picture in the middle of an empty space.

In the neat square, your smiles were radiant. It was taken by the gates of Arora, soon after it was opened.

The stars were in the backdrop, bright in spite of the sun above.

“Hyung?”

“Hm?”

“Where was this taken?

Yoongi traces your figures, grateful that the camera was able to preserve your contentment.

“Arora.”

-

Weeks after you were brought home from the facility, Yoongi intends to build the drawing that took root at the back of his mind, itching to materialise from the drafting table in his office. A city of infinite capacity, a city of stars.

One evening, when he was sure that you were asleep, he sits up. Feverish with excitement, he leaps from the bed, his fingers itching for anything to draw with.

The entire city came to him in a dream: a proliferation of constellations borne from the stories you told him.

If you were to build me a city, build one like the one we drew together.

Which one? He joked, feigning ignorance.

You know the one.

Hours pass by while he works like a madman, mapping out the parameters, white lines thick against a gridded background. The parchment he used was the best he could find, the materials the finest he could afford.

The label above is blank but he already had a name for a city made up of stars.

Arora.

No less than six weeks later, the city is built. It stands, imposing at the gates, the stars that top the walls are solar. He walks with you in a luxuriating page, hand in hand. Pausing by the entrance, he waves his ID, allowing entry. The skies are clear and the stars outnumber the incoming populace. They were coming from the North, whimsical and in need of hope.

Yoongi built Arora for you, though.

The effect on its people were incidental. It was you who he wanted to look up.

It was you who he wanted to hope.

“Would you like a picture?”

There was already a camera with the lens pointed at you and him. Shirking away, you fuss over your hair, eyes downcast because the gold was noticeable now. The glittery rings of addiction, bright wherever you went. Yoongi holds your hand tightly, nodding at the photographer.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, hesitant.

A smile spreads on his lips. He wanted to remember this, a moment where you were both happy.

“It’ll be okay.”

He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the picture in the end.


previously./next.

masterlist.

Utopia. | II. | Min Yoongi, 3.8k

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:The creative process is difficult, if not elusive. Yoongi grapples with this reality, frustrated at his lack of productivity. Building cities was second nature to him, like breathing. But of course, there are reasons for this and he knows that he must take the time to ride it out, and in that, he remembers.

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for implied/referenced drug use; implied/referenced drug addiction; angst; brief depictions of war; implied/referenced PTSD; minor character death; the tags areheavy, so proceed with caution; I’ve tried to be as vague as possible but still - Alternate Universe Fantasy/Magical Realism ft.Architect!Min Yoongi.

=====

This is also available onAO3.

=====

-

Sunk below the flat line, the sun is halved in a bright, orange semi-circle. The trees cast long shadows across parched fields and in scattered groups, the animals, mostly horses and goats, graze on the cracked surface, their ribs visible through their shaggy fur.

Yoongi’s father grunts as he sits on a tree stump, hiking his leg up to rest his elbow on his knee. It was setting up to be another season of drought. Yoongi could see it in the slump of his father’s shoulders and hears it in the way the tips of the grass cracked from even the slightest push of the breeze.

“I don’t mind tending to the fields after I graduate,” Yoongi said, as if it could remedy the scarcity ahead. His father takes a moment to answer, flicking a fly that settled on the leathery skin of his thigh.

“You have more talent that me, your mother, and the rest of your siblings combined. Use it.”

Yoongi didn’t usually aspire to hear this from his father. He was one of three (soon to be four), and was the only one in university. Architecture landed on his lap like some primordial present. Perhaps because of his background, he didn’t feel beholden to such a gift. The people whom he owed his life to were meant to sustain the fields for generations to come and he didn’t expect to be an exception. It did nothing but make him feel like an outcast among his family. It displeased him at the best of times that he found more comfort in numbers and lines rather than the rough texture of the earth.

“Create something good, something that lasts,” his father said, rubbing the palms of his hands together. They were so dry that it sounded like he was scraping sandpaper together.

You could build legacies from the Earth too, he thought.

“I really don’t mind, father. I can take over, I am the oldest,” Yoongi reasoned, risking a quick glance. His father scowled at the sight ahead. One of the horses had taken to sit and it would be their job to haul it back to its pen.

“I didn’t want to plow fields for the rest of my days but sometimes, life hands you something before you can make a choice.”

Yoongi couldn’t look at his father so he fixed his gaze on the reddish sky. The pointed fir trees were upright, stiff from being exposed to scorching rays all afternoon. The air is dry and caused the chapped surface of his bottom lip to split when he curled it over his teeth. Blood spreads on his tongue, a distinct, coppery taste.

“You have a choice, Yoongi.”

At that, Yoongi chews the inside of his cheek. He didn’t like that his choices forced him to watch his family starve as they paid for his tuition. He disliked it even more that every time he came home, his siblings looked at him as if he was scum.

Mother told me that you were too busy studying and I had to pick up your shift in the morning.

Father told me to give you an extra helping of soup because you had exams.

Oh, you came home?

None of these were said in kind. Yoongi thought that he deserved it, a burden in exchange for this gift to create.

Before he could protest, the voice of his mother pierces through their conversation. Far out at the bottom of the hill, she waves up at them, one hand on her lower back making the swell of her belly jut out. For once, he is grateful for the interruption even though he knows that the food awaiting him will hardly fill his stomach. His father gets up, sighing long and low. He extends his hand to Yoongi, who takes it gratefully. When he thought that it would be the last of their conversation, his father gives him a small smile. The lines at the side of his eyes are as deep as the fissures in the desiccated landscape.

“And find someone to hold on to, Yoongi. Find someone you can love until the end.”

Yoongi didn’t need to see how his father looks lovingly at his mother, as if she hung the stars and the moon.

Oddly though, while they worked together to push the lazy mare to the pen, Yoongi finds himself thinking about flashing strobe lights, multi-coloured hair, and stolen apples in the open market.

-

“Wouldn’t they be miserable if it rains all the time?”

Jungkook pushes the end of his pencil on the mole below his lip. Yoongi just so happened to catch the discussion he was having with Namjoon. The profile of these displaced inhabitants hailed from somewhere similar to Galtea.

“That doesn’t matter if it helps them thrive,” Yoongi said after a few moments in contemplation. The location of the pending city would have all seasons, a guaranteed break from the summer heat.

“Thrive?” Jungkook asked, to which Yoongi nodded.

“If they need to rely on the land for anything, they need it to be exposed to all kinds of different elements.”

Namjoon swipes his pencil over the numerous options for the location.

“It won’t rain all of the time, just most of the time. These people were mainly farmers, it would be familiar to them to live in an places where they can grow crops,” Namjoon reassured, shortlisting land where the sun may not have an overwhelming effect. If Yoongi had more concern, he would advise against building a city that was too familiar. Some things others would rather leave behind, after all.

Jungkook hums, indicating his understanding. Yoongi leaves then, mourning a loss that he couldn’t quite give a name to.

-

It turns out that the Emperor had no mercy.

Everything that Yoongi feared came true in the final months of his education.

The war against the Emperor’s forces began and never seemed to end. His father dies weeks before he was due to graduate and his mother and siblings, crestfallen and forlorn, were separated from him. Each week, he makes sure to post letters, none of which were replied to. With his nerves shot, he forces himself to accept that his family is torn and the fact that his father didn’t even have a grave. All that was left of his father was what Yoongi could remember and that was his feeble attempt to keep their family alive and healthy.

The final moments led to the haunting image of red-rimmed eyes, a weakened grip, and the words ending in the rattle of his last breath.

I’m proud of you, Yoongi. Make sure to never live like me.

Galtea continues to be submerged in flames from bombs crashing down like torrential rain, exploding into splinters and shaking the earth. Giant flying vehicles patrol the sky, their layered wings groaning in their articulation as its rusted doors descended to allow rockets to pelt the mountains in a continuous hurl. Yoongi’s ears would ring from the impact and the table on which he hid under was showered with rubble, his lungs fill with smoke. The university was the final stronghold and as Galtea was brought to its knees, Yoongi swallowed his vitriol and applied for the position of architect for the Imperial City.

When his acceptance rolled in, all he had to his name was a diploma and the few belongings he could gather from what was left of his home. His father’s watch remained clasped to his wrist even after the batteries faltered. His mother dies during childbirth and his siblings abandoned him, severing contact.

Once through the gates of Imperial City, along with the numerous displaced scholars, he commenced his apprenticeship alone and in a dream-like trance.

-

The Imperial City likes to leave room for the past. Yoongi can still remember what the Emperor used to say to him as they surveyed the down-trodden land below.

We must remember the past, Yoongi. It’s the only way to forge a path forward.

He walks along the marbled hall of the Great Museum, chronicling all of the Emperor’s conquests. His favourite section is all about rebuilding the torn cities showcased in an open room with an enormous map. The grooves of the land were constructed from the finest minerals: black opal, jadeite, then tanzanite. He stops by a oft forgotten corner in the South-West, leaning forward while he clasped his hands behind his back.

Since it’s late, the crowd had waned and it’s like he has the place to himself. His eyes try to pinpoint where Galtea used to be, nestled in the mountains and flanked by Dorea and Thanazt. Instead, he finds an empty space of flattened tanzanite, made dull against the muted lights above.

When he began, he aimed to create as many cities as he could to surpass all that he saw destroyed. Years passed and he had many places that had his name at the foot of the gates, an author of new homes and new pastures. By the time he was in his seventh year, his reputation preceded him.

Back then, he couldn’t understand why conquests needed to involve destruction. Even now, he still didn’t understand. In the vast hall, he knew that the reason for him dragging his feet was exhaustion. He was tired of all the loss, tired of watching countless become destitute, forced to flee their homes because of one man’s greed.

Having lived to survive in the early part of his career, it was a deliberate decision to suppress his hand in the destruction. He slept aware of the fact that for new cities to rise, the old ones must fall.

He lightly traces growth rings meant to be the parameters of where Galtea should be on the cool mineral. Its absence incites a sharp pain in his chest, each beat of his heart becoming more and more strenuous with each second passing by. The excited murmur of a family nearby makes him retract his hand. In the quiet of the grand hall, he clenches his jaw, breathing steadily through his nose.

The destruction is going to continue and Galtea is gone. He squints at the marbled texture, his reflection barely formed yet distinct. He sees his father in his features as he hears his voice filter past his lips.

Are you still proud of me?

-

In the third year of his apprenticeship, Yoongi sees you again, but instead of apples, you were hidden travel papers to flee. As part of his assignment, he was surveying the surrounding land that fell after the Emperor conquered much of the South. That day, he was at a small fishing village, Pexia. Its harbours heaved with crowds wanting to sail away before it was destroyed. In its place would be a new city, and if Yoongi was fortunate enough, he could be part of the team that would build it.

You were attempting to push your way to the top of the line as he jogs towards you, renewed by a familiar face. When he makes a grab for your arm, you were quick to flinch.

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyes grow wide, a smile tugging your lips wide as you embrace him, throwing your whole weight in the momentum. He allows himself to cradle your head, to breathe in your scent, to feel your body against his. A part of him latched onto the fact that the ache in his chest dulled at the sight of you.

“How are you?” he asked, right in your hair since you were still tangled in each other, as if letting go would make you disappear. Your answer first comes as a nod, the movement of your head pushing against the cradle of his hand.

“I’m good - I was going to leave.”

He feels your embrace loosen, he hears the crackle of the parchment in your hands as the documents peel themselves away from your hold.

“It’s so good to see you.”

Your eyes shone despite it all.

Galtea was gone and it showed in the hollows of your cheeks and the muted colour of your hair. You were lost, without a home again. With a gentle brush of his knuckle along the side of your face, he wills himself to anchor you both. The words come out since he doesn’t have the heart to stop them.

“I have a job.”

You stare at him, your features contracting at the prospect of hope. Yoongi feels you crumple the paper in your hand. Then, you are jostled by those lining up to leave the city limits, their faces obscured by hoods. Nearby, the boats bump against the stone walls, crusted with barnacles and battered by countless waves. Salt stains the air intermingled with the desperation for a place to sail away.

“It won’t be like this anymore. I promise.”

He sees you visibly relax, his words affecting you hugely, even if he wasn’t sure himself. Yet in his mind, he was going to build cities that you both dreamed of: free from war and strife.

“Alright.”

-

Jungkook had been circling Yoongi’s area for the past thirty minutes with no particular goal in mind. It was lunch and the junior architect hovered under the pretence of productivity. Yoongi slides a draft across Jungkook’s way.

“Has Namjoon showed you these?”

In front of them was an archived map of the Imperial City in the first phase of its construction. Jungkook shakes his head, his attention snagged by the foreign metrics no longer taught in modern schools. By that time, Yoongi was climbing the ranks, eager to survive and get into the superior’s good graces.

Jungkook surveyed the early plans which incorporated tall, aluminum spires, golden gates and bridges. The Emperor’s was luxurious by nature and nothing was spared.

Gold from Zantyr.

Minerals from Artacyte.

Marble from Siettan.

Yoongi could only remember the heavy footfalls of the soldiers, the groan of the wood as blocks of stone, bars of gold, and slabs of marble were transferred into multiple ferries. He couldn’t even look at the people below, knowing that he’d be faced with emaciated arms extended upwards for a morsel of anything from above. Instead, he clutched the papers with designs meant to replace each of the raided metropolises, watching with suppressed horror as the Emperor trailed his hungry gaze on the ramps that bowed from the weight of his plunder.

In the end, Yoongi hoped that turning a blind eye would keep him from the recurring nightmares of chipped nails scraping against the rusted metal of the ships hull. But as the day ended, even in the comfort of his bed and in the apparent safety of your arms, the screams were there. They haunted the halls of his mind, these manic echoes accusing his hands of blood wherever he went. He stood witness as the Imperial forces took and took until a city was fashioned to the Emperor’s liking.

During his expeditions as primary Architect, he stood near the bow of the boat, or the foremost chamber on the flying vehicles. Throughout, he found that the view was the same regardless of the contraption he was on.

The Emperor not only advances, he tramples.

Jungkook ran his fingertips over the lines of the Great Museum, stopping at the skylight dome. His furrowed brow worried Yoongi but he understood from Namjoon that Jungkook was too young. He knew nothing of the screams of the displaced or the hollowed stares of the destitute. Anything Jungkooks knew was taught to him in two-dimensional pictures meant to simplify a grave period in history.

As Yoongi attempted to show him another map, Jungkook slipped a different one from beneath the sheets of archival parchment. Galtea reveals itself on the parchment.

“Was Galtea spared, hyung?”

The name of his home drew a sharp breath from him. Jungkook watched him, innocuous in his interrogation. Yoongi shakes his head, mustering a forlorn smile. The junior architect pressed his lips together, scrunching his nose so that his glasses stayed perched on its bridge.

“What’s left of Galtea now?”

Yoongi licks his lips, his eyes on the growth rings that made up Galtea’s structure. Two-dimensional evidence of his own history, gathering dust in the Imperial archives.

Jungkook waits, patient in the face of his memories unravelling.

Galtea exists on the surface of his mind in its soot-covered infrastructure, with its shattered structures of gutted buildings and homes, the murky water of the river and the gnarled divide of the bridge that he once crossed to get to the Town Hall.

Yet beneath that all, in the very depths, Galtea is in your smile and the warmth of your hand over his. Galtea is tucked in the echoes of simpler times when all he needed to do was laugh with you as the sun set over the horizon. It’s in the humble bungalow he shared with his family, where his worries were limited to their next meal rather than staying alive after shrapnel ravages the land. Later, when he finally allowed himself to accept his situation, when he realised that he was the one who survived.He concluded that it was better to help than be helped.

Jungkook was waiting, setting his teeth against his bottom lip while Yoongi gathered himself.

“Galtea is just mountains and hills now, Jungkook-ah.”

-

Things start to look up when Yoongi builds his first city.

You were holding onto the handlebars of the hovercraft, steering the contained vehicle past the flower-twined gates of Palatia.Yoongi clutches at the seatbelt strapped across his chest, laughing heartily at your enthusiasm. Parking it above a vantage point, you gasped at the abundance of lilies, hydrangeas, and freesias lining the streets.

“You did this?” You asked, whipping back as he unbuckled to take a closer look.

“Not just me.”

“But it was your idea, right?”

He pinches a space at the back of his neck while a blush bloomed in his cheeks.

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking cool!” You yelled at the sky, prompting the widest smile from him. Yoongi knew he was good, so compliments rolled off his like water on a duck’s back. But it was different with you. Yours was an opinion he could trust, no matter how frivolous in its execution. Nearby, those entering the gates were startled by your exclamation. They squinted at the discrete hovercraft you were aboard, seeing only your hands gesticulating wildly, pointing at every landmark.

“I’ll build you one, someday.”

Yoongi said it before he could even stop himself. There were no regrets on his part, though. Not when he saw that smile that lit up your eyes.

“I want to have an input.”

Yoongi didn’t realise that it was love then.

But it showed in the cities he built thereafter.

“Okay.”

-

The Urban Planning department is in the lower floors. Yoongi scans his ID and the doors to the elevator slide open. Striding across the common area, Yoongi finds himself inside in an airless room without windows and lined with felt. Hoseok is visible because of his platinum blonde hair and gold-framed glasses, and mostly because he was in the middle of reprimanding a subordinate. Yoongi hangs back, trying to not appear as a witness to this scolding. Afterwards, when they slinked out of Hoseok’s office, Yoongi lets out a low whistle. He forgot how serious Hoseok could be.

“Hyung. What brings you here?”

Yoongi’s shrugs, his mouth pulling down in turn.

“I forgot how suffocating the Imperial Offices were.”

Hoseok shoves a box with neatly arranged files inside an alcove. It gets swallowed into the wall and deposited elsewhere via conveyor belt. He then gives Yoongi a once over, a direct response to his observation. Urban Planning was the size of a match box in comparison, and poorly ventilated at that.

“How’s the new city coming along?”

Yoongi sniffed, picking at the skin of his nail to stall, it catches and peels dramatically upwards, drawing blood. Hoseok stares but says nothing.

“It’s not going that well. I’m meant to build something perfect but I haven’t been able to come up with a single design.”

What Yoongi leaves out was the fact that he was also angry at himself. Angry because he cannot even do what he used to be good at doing. He feels like he’s at the bottom of a deep, dark well, bound at the hands and feet, blindfolded, utterly despairing.

Hoseok examines him with a neutral expression, his wiry arms folded tight over his chest. Yoongi slumps against his desk, as he often did when he was working down here. The atmosphere made you slump at all times. He supposed that producing the same design over and over without much thought was like successive weights on your body. There was no need to think much, he just had to do.

“Is there anything that means something to you? Anything important?”

Yoongi blinks at the reel of memories that were evoked by Hoseok’s question. He smiles instead, trying to mask the obvious discomfort that threatened to reveal itself in a frown. Later, with his back against the wall of the elevator, some part of him can still hear your laugh and the phantom warmth of your touch.

-

Yoongi can’t quite recall when his feelings tipped the scale to something concrete.

Being with you began with the intention of convenience. Having someone from Galtea navigate the enormity of Imperial City was like pairing a new frontier with the warm embrace of someone familiar. Years pass and while you never professed your love for each other, his hand lingers on yours automatically, and you smile brighter than most when you found him waiting outside of the school you worked at.

It’s in the mundane.

Love flourishes in ordinary conversation.

“Did you have a good day today?”

Love came and stayed in your touch.

He takes your hand when asked this since it seemed to slot perfectly against his. In turn, you swing your arms, backwards and forwards in a gentle rocking motion. Imperial City shines under the afternoon light. Its people thrive far from the blistering heat of flying automatons made for destruction. Galtea is gone but Yoongi is content to see it in your eyes and in the way your hair is healthy again.

“I did, but I could have met you at home,” you replied, bumping your shoulder to him. It brings out a halfhearted shrug from him.

“Your work is on the way anyway,” he said.

“Want to grab something to eat outside?”

He thinks of nothing better than that.

“Yeah.”

And while you’re distracted, he takes note of your profile as you surveyed the towering buildings, leagues away from the orphanage you hailed from in the peripheries. He basks in the fact that he was able to afford a better place, closer to the sky rather than the ground. In moments like these, he thinks he could hear his father’s words.

Make sure to never live like me.

As you round the corner, pulling him towards a place you frequented together, he thinks he’s far from who he was but closer to who he should be.


previously./next.

masterlist.

Utopia. | I. | Min Yoongi, 4.6k

Pairing:Yoongi x Reader

Summary:The Emperor requests a favour of Yoongi. It involves building a utopia, a perfect city. He’s done this countless times and succeeded in most, so why was it so hard for him this time around?

Warnings/Tags: RATED T for implied/referenced drug use; implied/referenced drug addiction; angst; brief depictions of war; implied/referenced PTSD; minor character death; the tags areheavy, so proceed with caution; I’ve tried to be as vague as possible but still - Alternate Universe Fantasy/Magical Realism ft.Architect!Min Yoongi.

=====

Here’s the playlist for it, if you want to listen! :]

This is my first ‘major’ fic for the new year and I’m trying something a little different for this series. Firstly, this is my attempt at magical realism and it’s a particular universe that I’ve grown to love Secondly, I guess that I’ve tried to be more economical with words.

This is also available onAO3.

As always, thank you for reading

=====

-

In this dream, the snow falls over Galtea.

It blankets the hills that flank the walls of the city in an even layer of frost. The green gets covered in white, footprints become visible, like punctuation over the powdery surface. Yoongi finds himself walking towards that place, far away from where he was now.

A cottage juts out on the outskirts, perhaps near his home. A small, humble structure with a thatched roof and square windows. The chimney blows puffs of smoke, misting in the air.

He heads towards the red lacquered door, dragging his feet so it cut lines on the snowy path. Inside is warm and you’re sitting by the fire, undisturbed by his presence. Slipping off his shoes, he lines them up next to yours, its soles shiny from the melted ice. Closer he goes, until he’s finally in your view but you don’t see him.

Your eyes are clouded over and you’re slumped in your seat, mouth slightly parted to complete the catatonic expression you had. Yoongi drops to his knees so he looks up at you, reaching with his hand to cradle your face.

Even his touch does nothing to rouse you.

Yet he tries, rising while still on his knees, pressing a kiss on your lips.

It’s chapped, lifeless and cold. He’s not sure if he could even feel a whisper of your breath or whether you’re actually alive or not. The thought fills him with dread.

When he pulls away, he wakes up with a jolt.

The grey ceiling of his bedroom greets him, the window is open and the curtain billows ceaselessly. It’s dawn, there is something wet by his thigh. His body takes time to thaw, his fingers and toes tingling like static. He runs his touch over the wet cotton nearby, recalling his state the previous evening.

I was designing.

I received a letter from the Emperor. A request for a favour.

I have to build a new city.

His heart has slowed as he cranes his neck to see. The wet patch was spilled ink, the pitch black ichor of his thoughts are now staining the sheets. He lifts his hand, the ones with soaked fingertips, up to his lips. They come up cold at the memory of that dream.

Getting up was actually painful nowadays and if he stays in bed for too long, he would never get up. In a quick, forceful launch, he sits up, feet planted firmly on the hardwood floor.

It’s another day and he’s alone.

-

Yoongi observes the blueprints meant for a new city, envisioning the structure and the parameters of something that will once again have his mark. He’s done this before, countless times even. It should be like second nature by now, yet there is nothing on the page apart from the grooves of heavy pressure from his pencil now erased and surrounded by rubber shavings. Bordering his non-existent design were the various tools to aid him, and in his frustration, were in cluttered disarray.

The communal working space was bathed in light, the windows were recently cleaned allowing for the view of bright, white clouds. Yoongi was at the highest point of Imperial City. The illusion was that there was nothing beneath him, but in truth, he was tired of looking up.

“How’s it going?”

Namjoon wanders over to his desk, pushing his glasses further up his nose. Yoongi sighed, shoving the worn parchment away from him.

“I’ve been the same for the past three days. Nothing is coming to me.”

Taking it as a signal to introduce a break, Namjoon settles his hand on Yoongi’s shoulder.

“We can have some food, maybe you need a break.”

Yoongi takes his attention away from the task on his desk and back onto the window ahead. The clouds were rolling in a misty haze. He is meant to be inspired but he finds himself stuck in the well of his mind.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

Namjoon’s hand has left him, the absence of the firm pressure made Yoongi sag onto his seat.

“Let’s eat.”

-

Namjoon chews carefully, his brows pinching together.

The cafeteria was bustling during this time of the day. Food was in abundance in Imperial City, nothing was spared for its inhabitants. Yoongi was grateful to be surrounded by constant noise. He hates his thoughts running amok in his skull. They always leave grating echoes that made him irritable.

“How were things while I was gone?”

Namjoon takes a cloth and wipes his front. The crumbs trickle down, disappearing to his lap.

“Much of the same things. We weren’t tasked to build cities that were too elaborate. I have a junior architect to mentor, you’d like him. He reminds me of you.”

Yoongi chews the inside of his cheek. He can’t remember the time when he started nor could he picture himself at that age, young and impressionable. Someone who still believed in the world he lived in.

The food in front of him was steadily being devoured, even in his state of indifference. To eat is another form of distraction, a method to keep him sustained whilst his mind was rotting, stagnant in his ideas. Namjoon gets distracted by the files he brought to review.

“What do you think about adding spires to this, hyung?”

The design presented before him was meant for a city without linear structures. Everything will either be curved or coiled: a city in the the shape of springs. Namjoon was pointing to a cathedral, Yoongi set his teeth on his bottom lip. At the corner of the document was the number of people meant to populate the new city.

10,000.

A memory gets introduced to him. That was how it was like when he started. Yoongi made his first city for exactly ten-thousand inhabitants. Yet each time after, the population multiplied and his designs grew more and more complex. It seemed that the Emperor managed to take over more land, in turn, demanding more cities to house them. Old cities burned and Yoongi built over them, gradually and in time.

“Maybe you can incorporate it in every structure. They should be able to feel comfortable in their new home.”

Namjoon nods, producing a pen from his pocket and sketching in Yoongi’s suggestions. He knew that those ten-thousand were coming from war. Recently, the Emperor returned from a three-year long plunder in the East. The displaced needed something magnificent, something to make them feel important. Structures that showed them that surviving wasn’t in vain. Yoongi knew that it was difficult to leave things behind, especially if you had no choice.

“What is this one called?”

Pushing the bowl aside, Namjoon draws a steady and careful arc, signifying a dome over the new city. He smiled at Yoongi, the small indents flanked his mouth.

“Paxus.”

-

‘Galtea’s economy is primarily dependent on agriculture.’

Yoongi felt his ears burn, self-conscious in the classroom. He sits near the middle, not quite out of radar but far enough to blend in. Most of his classmates were from newer cities, ones that were dependent on technology, not the land.

The board showed a profile of his home, the factions split by clear demarcations. Further out were the peripheries, he thinks he can see where his home would be, gauging which fields that his father would tend to, then see his mother sorting crops with his siblings.

He’s in university, learning how to build cities. Full of ideas and passion, his dream is to construct cities that would last.

The professor changes the slide to the neighbouring metropolis, Dorea.

With his head down, he scribbles notes on his notebook, his handwriting is scratchy and barely legible. It didn’t matter; he was the only one who needed to understand it. After, he notices that the spine is weakened from being jostled in his threadbare bag. He adds another string to hold all the knowledge he’s accumulated.

At the end of the day, he has to travel back home and take the earliest train if he was to make it for supper. Though sometimes, he wishes he could afford to stay in university accommodation.

-

It’s the evening and the other employees have headed home.

Yoongi chews the end of his pencil as the page stays empty. He reaches for the phone and dials a number he knows off by heart.

“Yoongi-hyung, it’s late, are you doing okay?”

Hoseok’s voice at the end sounds the same at any time of day.

Yoongi lets himself absorb the view outside the panoramic windows. Another day had passed without progress. The city he was tasked to build remains buried in the recess of his mind and the frustration he felt always peaked in the evenings, more so in the quiet. He likens it to climbing an endless, each foothold was deeper but he can’t seem to hold onto anything.

“I’m meant to build a city.”

Perhaps if he details the task, he would be able to start afresh. Outside, the clouds are a deep shade of navy, the stars are scattered like luminescent freckles in the sky. He doesn’t know why he undertook that favour from the Emperor; he wasn’t even part of the Architecture Department anymore.

“Try and think back to the beginning, hyung. The very first city you built was magnificent. You’re talented and Palatia was a beautiful city - still is.”

Yoongi leaned back on the chair, cricking his neck as he did so.

Palatia was a city for lovers. Pleasant to live in, it had intricate ivy vines crept along the columns, flowers blooming at the window sills of every home, and yellow brick facades with burgundy slanted roofs. Simply, Yoongi thought that anything stemming from a labour of love would turn out like that.

“I don’t know. This has to be something different. I need it to mean something.”

“Don’t all of your cities mean something to you?”

There was a time when they were the most important thing to him. There was a time where he was responsible for building all of these cities from scratch, conjuring entire structures from his imagination. He can still remember the firm handshake from the Emperor after Palatia was opened.

This is good work, Yoongi. I’m glad that you’re helping me rebuild the world.

It was so easy then, so why was he having so much trouble now?

“What’s interesting to you at the minute?” Hoseok asked.

“I don’t know,” he replied, defeated.

“What are you looking at now?”

Yoongi stared at the clouds, watching as each one rolled by unhurriedly. Nature was interesting, he had taken inspiration from it a while ago. It resulted in Falia, a city surrounded by green foliage where homes were bungalows with banana leaves for roofs. The city is so embedded in nature that at first glance, you can’t even tell that it’s a city. The walls are made of bamboo and it’s common to travel along the river to get where you want to be. Its inhabitants lived without fear for their next meal, something that Yoongi aimed for himself once.

“I’m staring out of the window of my office, but I’ve already made something inspired by nature a couple of years ago.”

There was a pause; Yoongi hears the creak of a chair over the line.

“What do you want this city to be?”

Yoongi recalls the Emperor’s request.

I want you to build me a city that is perfect. I want you to make me a utopia. I trust your abilities, Yoongi.

“The Emperor wants a utopian city. But I don’t think I have it in me to come up with something like that.”

“Well, what do you define as your own utopia?”

Yoongi’s eyes were back on the blank parchment; it was the fourth sheet he’s taken on the fourth day, and it was the fourth he’s crinkled from countless revisions only to end up with nothing.

I want it to be perfect. I want it to be beautiful. I want -

He tries to picture something akin to that: an ideal city with ideal proportions, everything made just right. Seconds pass as Hoseok waits on the other side of the line, patient with these drawn out pauses that so often punctuate their phone calls. When he thinks he’s onto to something, he winces reflexively.

It’s too close.

He can still hear your voice, feel your touch on his skin, the way your hand closed over his when you led him past the gates into Palatia, as if you were showing him your home.

This is so beautiful, Yoongi.

Yoongi wants that. He wants this city to feel just like that.

-

Yoongi didn’t have any money in his pockets but he knew the man at the entrance of the underground club. Before the throb of the walls became prominent, he would encounter the burly man with a permanent downturned scowl. Incidentally, Yoongi saved his brother from being clipped by a trash truck and that singular event has granted him free entry ever since.

Through the narrowed passage, he descended down sticky steps that clung to the soles of his shoes. The music was loud enough to get under his skin, causing every bone in his body to thrum to the beat. Above, Yoongi lived with his head down, eyes to the cobbled floor, striving to be as less of a nuisance as possible. Here, he could look up, shielded by the ever changing strobe lights, pushed up against random bodies until he was covered in sweat.

It’s a release.

It was somewhere he goes to in the gap between university and his home.

But there were other reasons to come apart from boredom. He first sees you swan out from one of the entrances, your gaze concentrated at the tables you were assigned to. It became a fascination of his to watch you serve drinks, your hand splayed underneath an uneven plastic tray, undulating it like a wave when necessary to avoid spillage.

All you ever did was work and all Yoongi ever did was stare.

He didn’t know why dyed hair seemed more compelling to him now than it did before. Above, everyone could have different coloured hair if they liked. When he was hanging out with his classmates, they would dye strips of their hair for fun during recess, the hues would catch the rays of sun and sometimes lighten over time. Though he supposes that under the flashing lights, you didn’t really have a singular hair colour. It seemed to always change depending on which part of the club you were in.

The music continued to pound while bodies moved in a blurry distortions. You were meters away from him, untouchable. He didn’t know your name, nor had he ever spoken to you, but he knew that you would almost always swat unsolicited hands that crept along your back, and swore brazenly at those who wanted more than a drink. One time, you kneed a customer between his legs for slipping his fingers through the hem of your shorts. Yoongi laughed so hard then, heading home with a spring in his step.

Not old enough to order a drink, he hung back, face up, towards the artificial lights. The beat continued to shake the structure of the club, a contained box underneath the solid stone of the city. Here, he was a nobody. Much like he was above ground.

But it was different here.

Sometimes, he would get the feeling that he was boneless, ready to float off at a moment’s notice because he was being pushed in different directions at once.

He feels someone elbow him in the ribs, the dull pain made him reorient himself. Just then, you were nowhere to be seen. Craning his head, he looked for the two doors, one leading to another bar and the other leading to the exit. After a few seconds, you emerged, the lights above making your hair appear a cherry red. He’s not sure if your eyes met, he was still a little buzzed from the atmosphere.

All he knew was that there was something that bloomed in his chest every time he set his eyes on you. It only took one look at you while you busied yourself with handing drinks to anchor him. To keep coming back to this hole in the wall.

Yes.

It was different here.

-

Despite running on three hours of sleep, Yoongi ends up in the office as if it was a morning shift. By his desk, Namjoon was talking to someone animatedly. Once Yoongi was near enough, Namjoon opens up the floor for introductions.

“Jungkook, this is Min Yoongi. Chief Architect to the Emperor,” Namjoon said, scraping the chair back so Yoongi could sit.

“I’m just here for a temporary project, I’m actually at Urban Planning now,” he said, offering Jungkook a small smile.

TheMin Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, his eyes bright and wide. Yoongi shoots Namjoon a look, aware of Jungkook’s ‘Junior Architect’ badge. It reflected the natural light that filtered past the windows.

“What did you tell him?”

Namjoon shrugged, “nothing incriminating.”

Jungkook promptly shut his mouth but his gaze stayed fixed on Yoongi, who became shifty from the attention.

“Hyung told me that you made Palatia.”

“And Arora,” Namjoon supplied.

Yoongi feel himself going red at the tips of his ears while Namjoon only beams proudly. Those cities were near the start of his career as an architect. Palatia got him the Emperor’s attention but Arora cemented his reputation. Jungkook fiddles with his badge.

“How comes you’re at Urban Planning, hyung?” Jungkook asked rather boldly. Yoongi couldn’t school his surprised expression as Namjoon pressed his lips together in a line.

It was then that Yoongi felt the fatigue that visited him almost daily. In the spacious home he had built for you and himself, he tosses and turns, restless at the face of his ambition to sleep. The moonlight broke on the surface of his bed, he lays awake confronting the ghosts of the past. Memories of a life he’d rather forget.

“I needed a change in scenery.”

Jungkook’s mouth twists, clearly dissatisfied with Yoongi’s answer. He couldn’t blame the younger man. Architecture was a profession that had longevity and along with it, came respect. To build something out of nothing was an art and the cities that Yoongi built were incredible, if not ethereal.

But he couldn’t seem to identify with those creations anymore. Not when he couldn’t even remember the reason whyhe started.

Namjoon ushers Jungkook away politely, bowing to Yoongi in apology. On his desk were the blueprints of Palatia and Arora that Namjoon must have retrieved from the archives. The lines were strong and deliberate, each shape and drawing were all measured according to Yoongi’s vision. He traced the parchment, preserved dutifully under the lamination. Somewhere, those cities were thriving in peace. He could hear you so clearly in front of these blueprints.

Thank you for bringing Arora to life, Yoongi.

Yoongi built these cities when he was happier; when times were simpler and smiling didn’t seem like a chore.

He misses that more than he cared to admit.

-

It’s a few days before Yoongi has to resume classes for the final year.

Living at home reminded him that he was in the peripheries Galtea. A city that ignored the cracks in its veneer. There are those that live among him that do not lie awake at night, wondering if their temporary homes would be raided because they don’t have the right papers. And, like him, there are those who live wondering whether they’ll even had a meal to tide them over the next day.

“Get as much as you can with these.”

Yoongi’s father extends three dog-eared food stamps, his hand shaking slightly.

The sun scorched the fields to the point of drought and the clouds offered no mercy in the form of rain. The city is starving and its people are too. Yoongi delicately folds them and slips them in his pocket. For every meal he can scrimmage together, there is something unspoken that rings louder when the shadows extend as the night covers the city. The prospect of war seemed so far away months ago, yet Galtea and its people know that its walls weren’t strong enough to keep the sharp prongs of invasion at bay. News came from the harbour a few days back: The Emperor seeks more land to conquer.

“I’ll try, but there’s shortages right now,” he said, unable to look at his father in the eye.

They were a humble farming family and his father bore the brunt of the scarcity. It showed up in his gaunt frame and the bones are visible through his paper-thin skin. Yoongi noted his own sallow complexion as he passed his reflection earlier, but it was incomparable. His father was always a ghastly shade of grey, and each time he looked at his family, it was with red-rimmed eyes that couldn’t be remedied with a smile from his chapped lips.

Yoongi knew that no matter how much food he brought home, his father wouldn’t eat. He had two other siblings and his mother was pregnant. Things were dire and helpless.

“I know, but still try. I want you to be able to eat so you can be strong. Your exams are soon.”

Yoongi also knew that his father might not see him graduate.

“I’ll try.”

While waiting in line, Yoongi sees you slip three apples in your pocket, right under the vendor’s nose.

This was the first time he saw you above ground. Under the blazing sun, your hair was plain, and you moved quickly, like you had a destination in mind. His brows pinched together, the food stamps he was clutching in his pocket weighed heavy in his hand. You weave past others who were too busy with their own hunger to notice.

“You shouldn’t be stealing,” he said, right as you passed by. You stopped walking, looking at him up and down.

“Those won’t get you anything.”

Yoongi was about to ask but he realises that you were staring at his pocket. The line moves incrementally and before you could escape, he grabs you by your elbow. You stumble back, startled by the contact.

“There’s a vendor in the next street who sells pastries and other cakes,” he divulged, unsure why he was so open.

“Those are harder to slip into my pocket,” you replied, tugging your arm with force.

In response, Yoongi grips you harder, almost dragging you forward as the line shortens. You sighed audibly, eyes darting to the side. He feels his reserve wane not knowing if he’d have time to go to the club now that exams were approaching. A part of him is curious as to why you hadn’t fled yet.

“If you wait for me, I could show you.”

“I don’t have any money for pastries or cakes.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said.

At that, he doesn’t feel you resist him as much.

“Why?”

“Because he’s a gimp and is partially blind.”

A smile spreads your lips wide, bursting into a quiet laugh. Then, he hears you introduce yourself, which prompts him to do the same.

“I’m Yoongi.”

You extend your free hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

The wait wasn’t long and unlike your estimation, Yoongi was able to get something that could feed his family for at least three days.

Overhead, sirens blared and you hurried to the direction of the next street. The conversation was endless. He learned that you were an orphan but were too old to be adopted. The club was your main gig, but the pay was meagre given that you were technically underaged. He realised that you were as desperate as him, which didn’t invite shame, rather he was able to be himself. It was nice to show that life was hard, to share this perspective with someone who knows what it’s like at the peripheries.

“You’re studying?”

Yoongi finishes the pastry and swallows thickly. You were looking at the lanyard he was wearing.

Galtea School of Architecture.

“Yeah. I’ll graduate next year, if there isn’t a war.”

You puffed out your cheeks, eyebrows raising in response.

“Never met anyone who got past elementary school,” you said, leaning on your arms.

“I want to build cities, I want to make a difference in people’s lives,” he said, sheepish in his admission but liked that you listened nonetheless. It feels like he could be himself, without reservations. Feelings like that, he wanted to hold on to as much as possible. You smiled at him with a certain fondness that he never saw in all the time he’s observed you.

“I’m sure you’ll be great. Remember me when you make it, okay?”

Yoongi thinks he could never forget you but he agrees anyway.

-

Jungkook was unsure as he fiddled with the adjustments on the draft table. It suddenly flips upwards, like a whiplash. He jumps back, startled, his hands flying up as if he was arrested. Yoongi smiled, recalling his own experiences. Their colleagues notice but pay them no mind.

“I thought that this was how you were meant to place it,” the younger one said, his cheeks colouring a light pink.

Yoongi shook his head, reaching down to press a button, hidden in the bolts. The hydraulic mechanism hissed and the table descends without complaint.

“They don’t reveal this during the orientation, I had a senior teach me the same thing.”

Jungkook nods, searching for the button himself. Yoongi looks on, paying attention to a part of him that misses his old job. He wonders what kind of cities that Jungkook would build one day.

“Thanks hyung.”

-

“Do you think the Emperor will spare Galtea?”

It was a question that you would occasionally ask Yoongi while you sat atop a grassy hill. Friendship seemed to thrive between you while war was right at your doorstep. The papers were riddled with articles heralding that, mainly to announce that the Emperor advances, day by day.

From your vantage point, you could see how Galtea was organised in factions. The further away from the centre, the more impoverished you were. You and Yoongi resided on the penultimate faction, nearer to the fields. Although limited, it was still a pocket of civilisation.

“I’ve heard that the Emperor is merciful,” Yoongi replied.

He offers you part of an apple that he’s carved into quarters.

“I wish I could afford to travel. I’d go as far away from here as possible, somewhere where I can start over and not have to work shitty jobs just to make ends meet.”

Yoongi thinks that it doesn’t matter where you go, poverty didn’t care who you were and unless you were born with money-ladened pockets from your ancestry, you were a nobody. While you talked aimlessly, he thinks of his parents, salt of the earth, already in their late sixties and unable to retire or even feed their children a full meal. They have never crossed the walls of Galtea not by choice but because they couldn’t afford to.

All of this, Yoongi keeps to himself.

“Maybe one day. I had some friends say that the lands in the West are warm and their soldiers are strong. The Emperor hasn’t been able to conquer those lands yet.”

You crunch on the apple pieces audibly, sniffing as the breeze picked up.

“I think I’d want to visit the city, go to the theatre once, then take a stroll along the bridge, you know the one by the Town Hall?”

Yoongi knows the one. Galtea had many places of interest but the bridge was consistently flocked to by visitors from the city and throughout. It was a simple design, the highest point allowing for a perfect central view of the multi-coloured houses that flanked the river. Yoongi had been there once on a field trip during his first year.

“Sounds like the perfect day, maybe throw in a dinner by the river,” he replied, mirroring your grin.

“One day,” you said.

“Yeah, one day.”


next.

masterlist.

taerseok:

Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale | Walkthrough

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↳ Banner and dividers made by @kim-seok-jin​. Thank you^^. 

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Titles:

Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale

Stygian (the madness corrupts me, and you, my saviour)

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Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-

Or can it?

One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness. Protecting her life is one thing, but-

What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?

Take care, Alice…

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✉ Information: 

➠ Pairing: Seokjin × reader, Yoongi × reader, Hoseok × reader, Namjoon × reader, Jimin × reader, Taehyung × reader, Jungkook × reader, OT7 × reader

➠ Genres: Angst, fantasy, alice in wonderland!au, reverse harem, isekai (teleported to a fantasy world), mystery 

➠ Overall Rating: PG-18

➠ Warnings: Violence, suicide, comatose, disturbing scenes, weapons, fights, yandere, insanity, mental illnesses, torture, massacre, serial killers, violent riots, executions, murders, large amount of people die, stalking, people lead other people on, threats, madness (but it’s wonderland so), tea parties and the white rabbit

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✉ Character Profiles:

March Hare ‘

Ace of Hearts ‘

King of Hearts ‘

Cheshire Cat ‘

Clockmaker ‘

Mad Hatter ‘

White Rabbit ‘

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✉ Beta-player [a.k.a. me, blog writer and walkthrough maker!] comments:

Several crashes may occur while playing the game, as the developers told me. This is still a beta version of the game, after all! The game also contains a lot of violence… hrmm, well, you’ll see for yourself. I’ve been told not to give too many spoilers, but the developers hinted to me that as the player, we have a special power!

If you complete a route, you don’t have to continue to the next one. You can pick whichever route you’re on and make it your true end. When that option pops out in the game, and you pick yes, Wonderland will close, and Alice and her suitor will be able to leave! It’s our choices while reading that matter!

Or… at least that’s what they said. Still, I’d warn you guys to be careful in choosing! This game is tricky, and it has several bad ends too… ah, I shouldn’t spoil anymore. This is an online game, so I put the links below if you want to play the beta version too! Careful though~ It links straight to the prologue, so for any players replaying, just choose the route after!

Oh, and one last thing- though all of the main cast are dateable characters; it’s of course, only one character per route though… or is it? Hehehe!

If you go through all routes, you might get a secret ending! Bonus scenes! So complete the full game when it comes out, okay?

No, the developers totally didn’t ask me to say all that to promote the game~

Have fun playing, and I hope this walkthrough helps you!

Reader discretion advised.

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Preview the Prologue here.

            ╔═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╗

                       [Would you like to start the game?]

                                 [Yes]           [No]  

           ╚═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════╝

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Routes:

[Routes are still in development, please visit from time to time to check for a new update.]

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Sidestory:

[Sidestories will be available after the release of the full game, please look forward to them.]

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All rights reserved © 2020 kimtaejin [bangtan-dreamland | taerseok]. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed.

11:50 pm

Yoongi masterlist

Main masterlist

“O-oh yoongi!” You whined as his pace increased and his cock brushed against that sweet spot causing your eyes to roll back. Yoongi growled hearing you moaning and screaming his name and grunted “fuck babygirl you take me so well, my good little girl” and wrapped his lips around your perky and hardened nipple causing you to whimper as your fingers played with his hair “y-yours” he groaned when you clenched around him tightly and smashed his lips on yours to pull you in a rough kiss which had you gasping for air as he sucked and bite your bottom lip until it was red and swollen “i-i love you yoongi ” you cried out as another wave of pleasure hit your body and he pounded inside you harder with his forehead leaned against yours as he panted and moaned your name “fuck i love you too babygirl, i love you so fucking much” he groaned and you leaned up slightly to kiss him but your attention was diverted when you suddenly heard a phone, or specifically his phone ringing “y-yoongi-” you tried to tell him but he cursed and placed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss with his hand going down in between your bodies to rub your clit which had you moaning his name loudly. As much as you tried to ignore the continues ringing, it didn’t stop budging at the back of your mind. so you pulled back panting and whimpered out “y-your phone oh- yoongi your p-phone” kissing your forehead softly, which was completely different from the way he was pounding inside you, he grunted “ doesn’t matter. Ignore it and look at me kitten” you whimpered at his dominating voice and looked at him with dazed eyes with your ckeeks flushed whispering “I-I’m close” gripping your hips tightly he groaned “i know baby, come for me” against your ear you gasped with your mouth hanging open and a scream of his name escaped your lips as your second orgasm washed over you with your hands grippingjis biceps tightly. A deep growl left his lips seeing you milking his cock with his name leaving your lips like a chant and he rubbed harsh circles on your clit to ride you out of your orgasm groaning feeling his own high approaching “fuck-where do you want me baby” “i-inside me” you whimpered laying on the bed boneless as he groaned hearing your words. He breathed harshly and small groans of your name spilled from his lips as he came right after you and you whimpered feeling his thick load of cum filling you up to the brim. Breathing heavily as his balls completely emptied he collapsed besides you and pulled you closer and you snuggled in his chest yawning and wrapped your arms around his torso. He chuckled fondly mumbling “i love you babygirl ” as you nestled against him comfortably and his arms around you tighten when you whispered “i love you yoon” kissing your head he groaned when the moment was interrupted by his phone ringing again “fucking assholes” you giggled softly as he mumbled profanities and said “it might be important, you should pick it up” already closing your eyes “not more important than you” he murmured kissing your neck and took his phone switching it off without seeing the missed calls and throwed it behind him on the bed. Sighing tiredly he kissed your head as soft snores and little puff of air left your lips and his eyes fluttered shut when you snuggled in his neck causing him to hold you protectively.

Of course he would make sure that people won’t fuck with his money anymore but that can wait for tomorrow. Tonight was just about you, his beautiful girlfriend . His whole world.

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Let me know if you want to be in my permanent taglist!

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Taglist:

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Main masterlist

Yoongi masterlist

Alter ego Gang leader yoongi x reader

■ summary: you’re theirs. And they won’t ever allow anyone to take or hurt what belongs to them.

■ Genre: fluff, angst

■ warning: blood, gun, mentions of murder, reader almost gets kidnapped, yoongi’s a gang leader, a few kisses here and there, he loves grabbing your butt, established relationship, yoongi has an alter ego, reader almost gets killed too, possessive yoongi and his alter ego, implied smut.


Author’s pov

You giggled as holly licked your face while you were tying his leash,well atleast you were trying to do so because the large dog kept trying to sit on your lap not understanding that he is too big to do that. The brown rottweiler looked at you happily while wagging his tail as you were successfully able to put his leash on and patted his head huffing as he licked your hand too. “You got me covered in your drool holly” you said putting on your shoes before wiping your face with wet wipes and looked at him again “okay let’s go” you mumbled taking his leash and your little bag which contained your phone and wallet and some treats for your baby. Locking the door you started walking towards your destination which was your boyfriend’s office. You know you shouldn’t be walking there because it would be much safer if you took your car but today you decided to give the poor driver a day off and besides just as yoongi had told you to take holly with you everywhere, you were doing so.

“It’s a nice day for a walk isn’t it?” You cooed to the dog softly as he walked besides you on alert only looking at you for a moment before looking at his surroundings again. Yoongi had brought him for you when he found himself falling in love with you. He never thought that would be getting in a serious relationship when he started seeing you. He thought that it’s just a distraction and it will be over soon but he found himself falling for you harder when you accepted both him and his alter ego. Never did he dared to dream that you will accept him for who he was. He didn’t wanted to get his hopes high and get hurt later on. But you proved him wrong when you just hugged him tightly in your warm embrace and whispered “i will always love you yoongi. No matter what. And if i love you then I’ll learn to love your other half too” he remembers how his eyes got misty and his voice thick with emotions as he hugged you back tightly. That was the first time you both said ‘i love you’.Since that day, both him, and his alter ego did everything in their power to keep you safe. He can say that his alter ego is possessive of you just like he is and they both loves you more than anything even though it took a little time for his alter ego to open up with you because he has always found it hard to trust anyone besides yoongi. But eventually, you managed to coax him out of his shell with your love. And about holly, well he was supposed to be a strong guard dog and he is, but you pamper him all day and make him wear different colorful clothes. He bets even holly must be embarrassed to walk down the street in a pink onesie.

You smiled looking at a little girl laughing while running in the park but soon your attention was taken by holly who suddenly stopped and looked back from where you came from with his tail standing straight in alert “hey what’s wrong holly?” You asked looking behind you aswell but you were met with nothing other than a few people walking but it wasn’t anything suspicious. Maybe holly is just paranoid because he has always been protective of you. “It’s nothing let’s go” you said lightly tugging on his leash but your eyebrows furrowed when he didn’t budge instead growled lowly which scared a couple who were walking past you. You gave them an apologetic smile and bowed slightly then looked at holly again who was still trying to go there but you stood in front of him and snapped your fingers gaining his attention “okay holly now stop. There’s no one there. C'mon” you said started to walk ahead and holly reluctantly followed behind you. As you both walked, you frowned noticing holly’s attention was still behind you both but you shrugged it off and smiled as you reached your destination.

Entering inside the building with holly on your tail you pushed the elevator’s button and shifted your weight from one leg to another while waiting for the elevator. “Y/n?” Hearing a familiar voice you looked to your right and a smile creeped on your face when you saw your boyfriend’s trusted man and bestfriend Namjoom standing there. But your smile dropped slightly when you saw his expression. He looked worried. “Hey joon” Namjoon looked down at you with a small smile and patted your back before stroking holly’s head “hey y/n. What’re you doing here?” “Nothing just came to meet yoongi” you smiled seeing holly licking namjoon’s hand as the elevator door opened. He suddenly looked a little hesitant making you worried “what’s wrong? Is yoongi alright? ” you asked immediately thinking of the worst scenario but joon was quick to calm you as he shaked his head and mumbled “don’t worry he’s fine. He’s just a little mad and he’s probably not yoongi right now but I’m not sure because he kicked me out” you relaxed and nodded starting to get in the elevator but namjoon stopped you “wait. Let me take holly with me.” You nodded giving him holly’s leash and crouched down to smack a kiss on the dog’s head “I’ll be back soon sweetie” you whispered smiling softly and waved at namjoon who nodded and watched as the door closed.

You signed and leaned against the cold wall watching the numbers changing to higher ones. What would have made him so angry for his alter ego to come out? And why didn’t he called you? He usually calls you whenever he gets too much stressed. You were snapped back to reality as the doors opened and you walked out bowing towards some men who bowed towards you. Everyone in this building knows you as their boss’s girlfriend so it’s no secret that they all respect you. Reaching outside his office you knocked on the door softly not hearing any reply which caused you to sigh so you knocked a little harder. A smile reaching your face when you heard his deep voice “stop bothering me namjoon amd piss off” “it’s me” you said softly and a moment later, the door was ripped open only for a second to pull you in before it was slammed shut and you were pinned against the door with his lips on yours and his hands gripping your hips tightly. You whispered his name against his lips, cupping his face and caressed his cheek softly as your lips moved against his smoothly “agust” He kissed you harder for a second before pulling back breathing heavily and leaned his head against yours “what are you doing here? Did you came alone?” Pushing the hair falling on his forehead back you stood on your tiptoes to kiss his forehead feeling him sighing tiredly and relaxing under your touch “no i didn’t came alone. Holly is with joon and i just wanted to see you. Am i disturbing you?” You asked looking at him with big eyes and he smirked squeezing your butt earning a soft giggle from you . Wrapping his arms around your waist he hoisted you up in the air effortlessly causing you to wrap your legs around his waist and he started walked towards his desk all the while you were peppering his face with kisses.

Sitting on his chair with you on his lap you caressed his hair as he leaned back looking at you with soft eyes that contained his love for you. “No you aren’t. Needed you” he breathed out as you lightly touched the scar doing under his right eye. “What happened?” You whispered shivering slightly because of the low temperature in the room and he shaked his head increasing the temperature and pulling you closer “nothing kitten” he mumbled pulling you closer with the back of your neck and crushed his lips on yours making you whimper gently. His tongue immediately dominated yours and you supported yourself by placing your hands on his chest and he groaned sucking your bottom lip before biting the supple flesh. Carding your fingers through his soft hair he growled when you tugged them lightly and pulled you impossibly closer with his hand going inside your oversized hoodie caressing your bare skin. You gasped and whimpered his name softly as he relieved all the stress that has built up. “Are you okay?” You gasped out as he kissed you roughly and growled running his tattooed hand over your back “missed you” he murmured pulling back breathing heavily and you leaned against his chest trying to catch some breath “is yoongi okay?” You whispered looking at him with worried eyes. Worried for both him and his other half which caused his eyes to go soft “yes babygirl we’re fine. Just some petty fuckers trying to take what’s ours” you looked at him with confusion as he placed his suit around you noticing the goosebumps on your arms “what do you mean?” He shaked his head kissing your forehead “don’t think about it.” “Agust” he sighed and looked at you with soft eyes and you perked up realising yoongi was back “yoongi?” He hummed pulling you close when he felt you sliding down and wrapped his arms around your waist “what was agust talking about?” You asked with narrowed eyes and he sighed mumbling “that idiot” “tell me” you whined squeezing his cheeks causing him to groan “is everything okay?” “Yes baby everything is fine. You know we will never let anything happen to you right?” You nodded whispering “ofcourse i know” with confusion still present in your eyes . Yoongi’s jaw clenched and he rasped out “ jungkook found out that someone has been following you since a few days” you gasped and his arms around you tighten “what” yoongi kissed your neck and held you close in his protective embrace “some shitheads are trying to take me down” he scoffed giving your butt a gentle squeeze before looking at you with sharp eyes “i will find them and make them regret their whole life” the shiver that ran down your spine wasn’t because of cold but because of the coldness in his eyes and tone.

Yoongi was always the calm one in situations like this and agust is the rough one but when it comes to you, they both become ruthless gang leaders who won’t ever hesitate to kill anyone who dares to hurt you. “Let’s go home” you whispered and he nodded kissing your head as you stood up from his lap. Standing up you gave him his suit jacket back which he kept in one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulder and you both walked out of the room. Walking towards the elevator you looked up at him see him looking ahead with a distant look in his eyes. You know that even though he is physically with you, his mind is somewhere else and it won’t calm down until they catch the person. So squeezing his arm you smiled softly when he looked down at you and he smiled when you said “everything will be fine” he nodded scratching the scar under his eye as you both stepped in the elevator and he pressed the button of the ground floor. You exhaled softly and buried your face in his chest as his arm around your shoulder tighten and he pressed a kiss on your head before breathing out “i love you baby” you smiled whispering “i love you too” in his chest. You pulled away slightly when the elevator door opened and you both walked out but your eyes widened and you suddenly stopped causing yoongi to stop too and look at you slightly alarmed “what’s wrong? ” he asked looking around with his hand already going back towards his gun which was safely tucked in his belt. “I forgot holly!” You exclaimed with wide eyes causing him to sigh “I’ll be right back!” You said with a small laugh and ran back towards the elevator while yoongi shaked his head with a small smile on his face as he heard hoseok laughing in the background.

You hummed softly as you reached the floor of namjoon’s office not noticing a man following behind you who was also in the elevator with you. While you were walking towards joon’s office yoongi glanced at his watch and looked back towards the elevator as a few men working under him bowed towards him. “Hyung?” Yoongi looked back surprised to see namjoon standing behind him with holly besides him who growled happily and went towards yoongi who hummed and chuckled as the happy dog sat besides him and he caressed the dog’s head “you’re leaving early? Y/n went to your office” mumbled yoongi taking his phone out to call you while namjoon nodded “I’ve some work to take care of so i was thinking of asking jungkook to look after holly but i saw you here” yoongi didn’t replied instead waited for you to pick up the call but you never did making yoongi frown. “Maybe it’s in her bag” he murmured sighing “don’t worry she will come back soon besides there’s no one on that floor” yoongi hummed questioning and namjoon nodded “i was the last one there”

“Oh?” You mumbled seeing the lights in namjoon’s office off and only then you noticed that you didn’t saw anyone on your way here. You shrugged thinking he must be with jin or Taehyung and turned around to go back to yoongi but you jumped and a scream almost left your mouth when you saw an unknown man standing right in front of you. You didn’t even heard his footsteps. Placing a hand on your chest you sighed and bowed slightly towards the man before walking past him. He must be one of yoongi’s men. Maybe he also came to find namjoon. Soon a frown settled on your lips when you realized the man was still following you and turned your head slightly and sure enough he was staring straight at you. Something about His gaze made you so uncomfortable that a shiver ran down your spin. You unknowingly speeded your steps and your throat tightened when you heard the man speeding behind you too. Why did namjoon’s office has to be so far from the elevator? A gasp escaped your lips when the unknown man caught up with you and grabbed your wrist harshly causing you to look at him with fear in your eyes. “W-what are doing?! Let me go!” You screamed trying to pull your hand away but his grip only tightened causing you to whimper in pain. You looked around and tears filled your eyes when you realized you were alone with this man and he smirked before raising his hand to hold your arm but before he could, you hastily took out the pepper spray from your bag and sprayed it in his eyes causing him to scream and let you go “you fucking bitch” you whimpered hearing his gruff voice and your feet took off with a thought.

Running towards the elevator as fast as you can , a sob escaped your lips when you heard him running behind you and quickly took your phone out. A shaky breath left your mouth as you saw yoongi’s missed call and immediately called him. You gasped as a ring went by before his deep voice was heard “y/n? Baby namjoon’s here-” “yoongi!” You sobbed hearing him getting closer and yoongi immediately looked alert as fear set inside him “y/n? Hey baby what’s wrong?! Y/n?!” Yoongi growled out the last words as you screamed when the man grabbed your hair tightly and turned your around causing the phone to slip out of your hand and fall on the ground “yoongi!” A scream of his name left your lips when the man raised his hand and slapped you hard causing you to fall on the floor harshly while yoongi was already running “hey! Who the fuck is there?! Y/n?! Don’t fucking touch her dammit” yoongi growled and took the stairs when the elevator took too long and ran up the stairs feeling anger coursing through his body as he heard you crying and screaming for help “you’ll regret touching her when i get my hands on you” you faintly heard his voice from afar because of the ringing in your head and whimpered as the man grabbed your collar and harshly made you stand up. Your eyes widened when the man pinned you to the wall and wrapped his hand around your neck squeezing it tightly which had you gasping for air as your hands tried to push him away. He groaned when your nails scratched his hand and squeezed your throat tighter causing you to close your eyes as your oxygen got cut off and your hands fell limply to your side.

And just as you thought that you’re going to die here, the man was suddenly thrown off of you and you fell on the floor wheezing and gasping for air. You placed a hand on your head feeling dizzy and tried your best to look towards the source of voice “yoongi! Stop!” You heard jin’s voice but you couldn’t open your eyes as leaned against the floor feeling tears flowing down your face as you heard holly barking. While yoongi’s voice changed to a more rough one as he continued throwing punches at the man laying below him “you fucking son of a bitch how dare you touch my fucking woman” yoongi threw a harsh punch on the man’s face and you swear you heard a cracking noise causing you to whimper softly as your vision slowly started coming back and you could make out a blurred sight of jungkook and hoseok trying to stop yoongi who was beating the man who almost killed you harshly. Another string of curse words left yoongi’s lips and you realized that he wasn’t yoongi right now . “Agust” you managed to croak out as your hand reached for him and his head snapped towards you.

He was on his feet in a second and rushed towards you. You sobbed softly as his arms wrapped around you in a protective embrace and leaned against his chest while his jaw was still tight and his eyes were holding so much anger. When yoongi reached where you were and saw that man choking you, he swear something inside him snapped and he saw red as his alter ego forced his way out and ran towards you. If you haven’t called him right now, then the man would have been dead. You gasped and buried your face in his chest and his arms around you tighten. More anger filling inside him when he saw a trail of blood on your lower lip. Cupping your face gently he made you look at him and you cried shaking in his arms “I’m here now. Everything’s okay. You’re okay” he whispered pressing his forehead against you and took you in his arms . His one arm wrapped under your knees and under one held your waist and he stood up holding you bridal style while you laid your head on his chest, your hand gripping his shirt tightly. Looking at namjoon he rasped out “i don’t want any of those shit heads leaving this damn building. They’ll will regret setting a foot here” Namjoon nodded and yoongi started walking ahead with holly following you both. Reaching home he placed you on the bed and your heart tugged tightly when holly whined seeing you hurt. You cooed and caressed his face to reassure him that you’re fine and flinched slightly when yoongi caressed your cheek which had already formed red causing him to clench his jaw. Somewhere in between the ride home, yoongi came back making you worried that agust might be upset but yoongi reassured you that he is fine. He was too angry at that time and he didn’t want you to see him in his scariest form. And the same went with yoongi. He too never want you to see him as a ruthless gang leader. And that’s why he tried to calm down because he didn’t want to scare you more.

After giving you a warm bath ,he helped you wear his hoodie with a pair of your underwear and carried you back to bed before laying down besides you. He unbuttoned his shirt until his sharp torso was on view and cradled your body close to him. You sighed shakily amd buried your face in his chest. He didn’t spoke anything since you both arrived home and that made you more nervous “yoongi?” He hummed kissing your head and you whispered out “s-someone was following me” pulling back slightly yoongi looked at with furrowed eyebrows “what?” You gulped nervously and avoided eye contact as you said “w-when i was coming to meet you, someone was following me and holly sensed it but at that time i-i thought he was just paranoid” taking a harsh breath yoongi stood up and took his gun from the side table causing you to gasp and stand up too “why the fuck didn’t you told me that before?!” He growled out and and started walking towards the door “I’ll fucking kill every single one of them” “no yoongi please stop” you pleaded rushing in front of him and placing your hands on his chest. His hands found there way on your hips , gripping then tightly as he leaned his head against yours “please stop” you whispered with your eyes closed and placed your hand on his heart feeling it pounding “don’t…don’t ever hide anything from me” he breathed out and you nodded as a tear left your eyes which he wiped immediately. He thinks he knows who has been tailing you but he wasn’t sure and that’s why he didn’t went and killed all of them. But right now that didn’t mattered when you looked so scared and nervous. Pulling you closer he pressed his lips on yours in a gentle but passionate kiss as he poured all of his love in it. Throwing the gun somewhere on the floor he picked you up making you wrap your legs around his waist and his one hand held your thigh with the other one on your back. Laying you on the bed gently he kissed you slowly and softly and a soft growl left his lips that had you whimpering his name. As your lips moved smoothly against each other, he whispered “we love you so fucking much babygirl ” you wrapped your arms around his neck whispering “i love you both. So so much”

As you both spent a night embracing each other fully, he showed you how you meant to them . He showed you that they would do anything and everything for you. As your naked form slept peacefully in his arms, his phone vibrated indicating of a message. Yoongi smirked switching his phone off and held you just a little tighter. The smirk turning into a soft smile when you snuggled closer into him and he kissed your bare shoulder softly before falling asleep as well.

Namjoon: lee and his gang are dead

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@bunnyrhe@rosquilleta@raineandskye

Clingy baby

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Producer husband yoongi x soft wife reader

◇Summary: you are sleepy and yoongi is busy. And you need to cuddle while sleeping so work can wait when it comes to you.

◇Genre: fluff,fluff and more fluff!

◇Warnings: loads of cuteness because y/n is a cutie patootie which can melt yoongi’s cold . Implied smut just some indirect mention.

A/n : hello hello! This idea was given by my wifey @teluki which inspired me to write this cute little one shot!

Author’s pov

You smiled softly against his chest as his large hand ran up and down your back in hopes of lulling you to sleep. You sighed and gripped his thin white t shirt, relaxing in his strong embrace. Yoongi kissed your head softly continuing caressing your back as you snuggled into his body. You have the habit of cuddling while sleeping. Before you met yoongi, you used to hold your big teddy bear in your sleep because you can’t sleep without holding something. But after yoongi came in your life, the teddy bear was long forgotten because yoongi was really endeared when you told him about this habit at the beginning of your dating and since then he would hold you tightly every time you slept. Yoongi finds this habit of yours absolutely adorable and even after 4 years of dating and 1 and half year of marriage you still sleep in his arms. And that’s why yoongi is always hesitant to leave you alone every time he goes to a business trip because he knows you have trouble sleeping without him besides you.

Yoongi smiled softly when he heard soft little snores coming from you and kissed your forehead when your head lulled back slightly and adjusted your head on the pillow before removing some strands of hair from your face. A quiet chuckle left his lips seeing your chubby cheeks squished against the pillow with your mouth slightly opened . Covering you with the duvet properly he sighed and reluctantly stood up. All he wants to do is get back in bed and continue holding you but unfortunately he has some work to complete. He slowly creeped out of the room as to not wake you up and started walking towards his home studio. He knows that he has to write the song idea that just came to his mind because he will definitely forget it later. Closing the door he sat on his chair and took his notebook and started scribbling whatever came to his mind

Half an hour later, you woke up not feeling the familiar warmth of your husband anymore and a pout settled on your lips when you found his side of the bed empty. You huffed knowing he went back to work again not just because you wanted to cuddle but also because you were worried he might overwork himself again. He has the habit of working continuously for hours without eating or drinking anything and it had been hardly 3 hours since he came home and he is wondering again. Still you didn’t want to disturb him. It might be important if he got out of bed to complete the work. So you sighed and cuddling in the blanket hoping to fall asleep again. But no matter how much you tossed and turned, sleep didn’t came. So after contemplating for another 5 minutes you finally stood up and wore one of his hoodie before making your way towards his studio.

Knocking the door once , as expected you didn’t got any response. So you opened the door and walked inside shivering slightly because of the coldness in his studio. How does he not freeze and can work normally in this temperature? “Yoongi” you called him softly while tapping his shoulder and he jumped slightly before turning his chair around and removing the headphone “ y/n? Baby why are you up it hasn’t been long since you slept” he mumbled pulling you closer noticing the sleepiness in your eyes. You yawned standing in between his legs and absentmindedly caressed his hair “i can’t sleep” you mumbled softly feeling your eyes getting heavier “can’t you work tomorrow?” You continued with a pout which he is sure you didn’t even noticed. He looked back at his laptop and then at back at you sighing tiredly “no baby I’m sorry but i have to complete this today” your pout increased with your sleepy mind not processing anything more than the want to be held by him “but i want to cuddle” you whined childishly rubbing your eyes and a tired smile creeped on his face. No matter how much he wants to pick you up and sleep while holding you he wants to finish this too because he has been stuck at this song since weeks and he can’t let the inspiration and ideas of the lyrics go “I’m so sorry babygirl but i need to work right now. It will only take about an hour can you try to sleep until then?” He said a little strenly making you bite your lip knowing he might get irritated if you kept on pushing him . Now feeling a little selfish you nodded hoping to mask the sadness and took a step back making yoongi immediately want to pull you back to feel your warmth again.

“It’s okay i know work is important. I’m sorry i disturbed you” you said not looking at him and walked out of the room closing the door behind you and made your way towards the bedroom while yoongi cursed under his breath and pushed his hair back sighing. He couldn’t ignore the guilt creeping inside him because he knows you can’t sleep without him and still sent you back. You shouldn’t look so hesitant to ask him about anything and he hated that you did.

You layed back on the bed sleeping on yoongi’s side hoping that his scent will help you fall asleep and closed your eyes snuggling in his pillow. You can’t believe you disturbed him just because you wanted to cuddle. So lost in your internal thoughts you didn’t heard the door opening and closing and you were surprised when you felt the bed dipped behind you and his arm wrapped around your waist with his another arm snaking under your head. You held his hand which was under your head and whispered “yoon-” “shh go back to sleep kitten. I’m sorry i got mad at you” he murmured kissing your neck softly “it’s okay you can work i will be fine yoongs” you whispered caressing his arm adoring how good it felt wrapped around you. “No. Work can be done later. Now go to sleep I’m tired” you giggled and turned your head slightly to kiss him and he immediately responded kissing you back sleepily but you let out a surprised sound when he suddenly started sucking your bottom lip gently “hey! I thought you were tired” you giggled when his lips chased yours and covered his lips with your hand causing him to grunt “it’s okay we can sleep in tomorrow” “no mr min you are going to sleep right now so no funny business” you said hovering your lips on his teasingly and pulling back when he tried to kiss you. He groaned but still let you snuggle in his chest and pulled you closer. “You sure you want to sleep?” He asked huskily while pressing a wet kiss under your ear causing you to shiver and slap his chest .

“Yes i do"you stated causing him to grumble while you tangled your legs with his while he scooted down and layed his head on your chest snuggling in your soft skin "good night yoon” you whispered closing your eyes and heard a deep mumble “night kitten”

The next morning he took his revenge just so you know.

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1:12am

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“Y/n?” You jumped slightly hearing your fiance’s voice suddenly and turned around wide eyed while yoongi bite back a chuckle because you looked absolutely adorable in your oversized t shirt with your mouth full of chocolate ice cream “yes?” You squeaked out hiding the tub behind your back not so sneakily causing him to smile “what are you doing princess?” He asked already knowing the answer but wanting to see what you’re going to do “umm watching the stars?” You said without thinking anything while yoongi hummed walking towards you causing to walk backwards till your back hit the counter “and where are your stars baby” he mumbled taking the ice cream from behind your back causing you to whine and try to take it back but he gave you a look causing you to pout and huff “i was hungry!” He wrapped his arm around your waist looking at the tub which was now half empty causing him to sigh “then you should have woke me up baby and i could have made something. You just got well do you want to get sick again?” He scolded you gently and you shaked your head and buried your face in his chest with the pout still on your lips “m sorry” your voice came out mumbled and he kissed your head “it’s okay” he pecked your lips and continued “do you want to eat a sandwich? I’ll make some” he mumbled already pulling away but you whined and shaked your head feeling your eyes getting heavier with all the ice cream you stuffed “I’m not hungry now. Sleepy” you mumbled causing him to laugh and he nodded “alright then let’s get you to bed” he said and bend down picking you up bridal style and you wrapped your around his neck smiling sleepily and kissed his neck softly before nuzzling your face in his warm skin. He smiled fondly at your habit of becoming clingy whenever you’re sleepy and continued walking towards the bedroom when you mumbled something “yoongs” he hummed closing the door with his leg and his movements halted for a moment when you whispered “i want to have kids” and he looked down at you to see you already closing your eyes and smiled walking towards the bed. His mind now filled with having a little you or a little him running around in the house and their bright laughs bouncing on the walls. Laying you on the bed gently he kissed your forehead before whispering against your skin “i would love that babygirl” you smiled softly and pulled him down with you and he wrapped his arms around your body and pulled your leg up so that it was wrapped around his torso. And just like that, you both fell asleep being tangled against each other with both of your minds filled with the happiness coming in the future.

And tomorrow after you unexpectedly throw up the first thing in the morning, you both also got to know the reason why you wanted to eat pickles dipped in chocolate last week

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A/n : I’m back!

Let me know if you want to be in my permanent taglist!

It’s always been you

5: you know i would do anything for you babygirl

15: is she mine?

20: he will regret this

28:you’re mine before him

37: are you fucking crazy?!

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Idol! Yoongi x soft reader one shot

Summary: destiny tries to separate you with the one you love the most. But as everyone says, two people who are in love with each other always find their way back.

Genre: angst in the beginning, smut at the end with happy ending.

Warnings: swearing, unexpected pregnancy, mentions of past abuse, mentions of miscarriage, mentions of rape, mature content, soft dom yoongi, soft sex, yoongi just loves you a lot

Author’s pov

Sometime in March, 2013

You took a shaky breath and hugged yourself as a harsh wind blew past your bundled up form. Your body tensed up when you heared the familiar deep voice which gave you comfort at one time but now you just wished for the ground to swallow you. “Hey babygirl ” he said sitting besides you on the bench. His eyebrows furrowing slightly when you avoided his eyes and scooted towards the end of the bench when he tried to pull you closer. “Is something wrong?” He asked soothingly and a small cry almost escaped seeing how confused he was. You shaked your head and blinked back the tears which didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was in front of you in a second. Crouching down in front of you ,he took your cold hands in his , with his another hand rubbing your knee gently. “Baby look at me please” he whispered with pleading eyes . You know he hates seeing you cry and you hate how much worried he looks for you. “W-we need to talk” you whispered shakily and his grip on your hands tighten, out of nervousness. But he still nodded and gave you a small smile “what’s wrong ” you took a deep breath and managed to croak out “l-let’s break up” for a moment, time stilled. You saw how his body visibly tensed up and he swallowed thickly before asking “why? Did i….did i do something wrong?” You shook your head and tried to free your hands from his grip but it tightened as soon as you tried to push him. “Y-you didn’t do anything wrong yoongi. It’s just…I’m doing this for your own good” “No” he said harshly and stood up pushing his hair back before taking a deep breath and looking at you with unshed tears in his eyes “please…please tell me baby. I-i promise I’ll fix it baby. I-is it because I’m not stable right now? You know my training at big hit has started . We are finally about to debut. I promise I’ll-I’ll give you everything you want. I promise I’ll work harder baby” he was now almost begging you. But he didn’t care. Not when he is so close to losing you. He can’t lose. You are his everything. His whole world. He won’t be able to live without you. A soft sob escaped your lips hearing his words. Of course you aren’t leaving him because of that. You don’t care about money. You don’t care that you both live in a small house. Because it’s home. “No yoongi. Please try to understand me. I-I’m doing this for you” your broken whisper caused a flame to ignite inside him which soon turned into anger. “No! No you aren’t y/n! You are just being selfish. You want to break up with me but you won’t tell me why. Let me fix it .Please, please baby you promised you will never leave me” the last words came out as soft whispers and your heart broke at how his voice cracked in between. You almost broke down when he said those words

“You know i will do anything for you babygirl ”

Keep reading

amazedforjjk:

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Summary:It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?

Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff

Warnings:Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi

A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!

Word count: 14K

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10:43 pm

It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.

Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.

Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.

Afficher davantage

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Summary:It’s not often you stumble upon a handsome tied up man in your parking lot in the dead of the night. What adventures this mysterious stranger is going to embark you on?

Genre: mafia!Yoongi, angst, humor, a tiny tiny hint of fluff

Warnings:Strong language, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of abuse and torture, tragic backstory, snarky Yoongi

A.N: Black Crow is finally here!! I’m so excited for you guys to read it! I’ll go on a hiatus for about two weeks but I’ll be back, don’t worry! I already have a new story idea I’m excited about!! Please tell me what you thought of Black Crow, I love interacting with you guys!!

Word count: 14K

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10:43 pm

It’s pitch black when you step out through the big glass doors of your office complex and the only way you manage to put a foot in front of the other without falling on your face is thanks to your flashlight on your phone. Everyone is already gone by now, and you should be as well but your boss had asked you to stay later tonight, because that fucker isn’t able to prepare a powerpoint by himself. Fucking boomers and their inability to use a computer. You huff in frustration as your heels click on the ground. You try to readjust your tight skirt by pulling at the edge. You hate this office with a passion, from your boss to his abject dress code. You absolutely despise having to dress in a tighter than normal grey skirt along with dark pantyhoses and a white blouse just for him to ogle you and your female coworkers. Your scalp hurts from having to pull your hair in a tight bun everyday.

Your heels are so fucking painful after a day of working, your boss making a point of having you run around the open space for different files that he strangely doesn’t need merely five minutes after asking you for them. You are not his assistant either, so you shouldn’t have to do anything for his fat ass but he holds your career in his hands, promising you the position you aspired towards for the past year without ever committing to his word. You huff again as you try to find your car in the dark, holding your phone between your shoulder and your cheek while you rummage in your purse to find your keys. Your office’s neighborhood isn’t exactly unsafe at night but you’d rather be home as fast as possible.

Admittedly, no one’s waiting for you there, except your bed and a comfy pair of pants, but you still sigh in contentment when you find the button to open your car. You get in in a hurry, throwing your bag across on the passenger seat and starting the car up. You already feel more relaxed in your car, removing your painful heels to drive. Your ankles are covered in blisters for sure and the tight fabric of your pantyhose pressing against the tender skin makes you grit your teeth. You drive home in a hurry, certainly not very safely but you don’t seem to care tonight, still fueled on the rage you piled up inside you today.

It’s definitely not your dream job, but a writer’s salary doesn’t pay the bills, at least not yours. And it’s not that bad; Sure you hate everyone in this office but the work in itself is okay, and the paycheck is worth the trouble. It’s thanks to that that you are two steps from owning your apartment in the center of the city, currently reimbursing your loan from the bank. It’s also why you need that new position; Bigger responsibilities but a bigger paycheck and flexible hours, perfect for an aspiring writer. Most importantly, you’ll don’t have to do anything for your asshole of a boss anymore.

You park in your parking spot down your building complex, calming down as you retrieve your keys from the ignition. You sigh. Sometimes you think you let the rage of your job consume you because it masks the loneliness overflowing from you everytime you come back home. You shouldn’t feel that way; you are the one who decided to move thousands of miles away from your parents. You are the country girl who decided to flee her small town to settle in the big city. You are not the only one, most of your friends moved as well, but not to the capital and sometimes you feel really alone. Even if you live in an over crowded city you can’t seem to find people to talk to other than a therapist.

You sigh as you slip your uncomfortable heels back on, stepping out of your car with your bag. You don’t notice at first the grunts and sounds of straining as you close your door and lock the car, but when you do you still instantly. Your eyes scan all around you while you strain your ears to find the origin of the noise. It sounds like a man is struggling against something, huffing and puffing in frustration.

The parking lot is empty and dimly lit, which is not unusual at this time of the night. You grab your phone tightly in your hand. The screen reads 11:07 pm before you tap on the emergency button. You don’t call the cops yet, but you feel a bit more reassured now that they are only a phone call away. You tentatively step closer to the trunk of your car towards the sound, steadying your breathing to be as silent as you can. Surely the person making the sound has already heard you arriving in your car and knows you are here but the fear gnawing your stomach keeps you from thinking straight. You forget about your painful heels, the rage of the day and your loneliness to focus entirely on the sounds . You can tell the man is still struggling, grunts and curse words alike becoming louder.

The deep voice spits a “Fuck!” and a car two rows away from yours sways lightly as if someone pushed against it. Having finally located the source of the sound you approach the car slowly, only stopping when you are close enough to determine what’s happening. A man is sitted against the back door of said car, head turned to look at his hands behind his back while struggling so that you can only see his raven hair. From the rope tied around his shoulders, you gather that his hands must be tied up as well and that he must be trying, with no success thus far, to break free.

He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, and you take advantage of that to figure out what the hell you are supposed to do in this situation. You could call the cops, leave him in their hands and he’ll be fine. Or you could try to free him from his bonds, there’s no need to get the police involved if it’s only a bad prank gone wrong. You glance at the chains around his neck; a silver skull is on the biggest of them and you can’t help but gulp. He could be dangerous… Like a gang member? Who else wears chains and skulls nowadays? Or he could be in danger, you realize as you notice a big dark stain on his khaki shirt. Wait, is that blood?

You let out an involuntary squeak as the stain seems to get even bigger. Your eyes widen when you realize how much you fucked up and you bring your hands to your mouth as if it would silence you but it’s too late. At the sound the man snaps his head in your direction, his grey eyes instantly finding yours. His brows are furrowed in both frustration and surprise, making him look intimidating. What shocks you the most though is the huge scar coming from his forehead to his cheekbone. You can’t help but take a step back, your hands falling to your sides, revealing your gaping mouth.

His eyes scour you and his eyebrows relax when he seems to understand that you pose no threat to him, but he still doesn’t talk. He gets up from where he was sitting, using the car behind him for support, gritting his teeth together in effort. You take another step back and your rear meets the car behind you. He looks much more intimidating now; he isn’t particularly tall nor is he very broad but his stance makes him terrifying. Your instincts are screaming at you to run away, that he is dangerous, but it’s like you are glued in place, unable to move. It’s only when he winces in pain again, surely from the wound on his side that you regain your ability to form coherent thoughts.

He is tied up and wounded; The man’s not a lot of a threat for you right now. A kick in his groin and you should be able to get home without a problem. You gulp before breaking the silence.

“You are wounded… It looks bad” is all you can muster tentatively. Silence.

Wow, that was lame, you internally cringe. He simply cocks an eyebrow and a smirk appears on his lips.

“Yeah, no shit”

You stammer and you feel your face heat up. Unable to find a witty comeback, you just huff, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Look, you need help or not?” you say simply but that is enough to wipe the smirk off his lips. It’s his turn to huff before looking away from you and you wonder how he could seem so intimidating earlier. He turns around, not without difficulty, facing away from you in an incredible demonstration of trust, displaying his tied up hands and you warily step towards him.

“Don’t try anything, I have a taser in my purse,” you bluff, eyeing the ropes currently cutting into his chafed wrists. The ropes are bloodied and you question how long he was trying to break free for. His shoulders move up and down as he laughs.

“I’ll be good,” he says, his voice filled with sarcasm. You roll your eyes. He is way too sassy for someone presently tied up.

You start to tug at his binds, trying to find the knot to let him free. He grunts as you put pressure on the damaged skin of his wrists. You look up from his wrist to look at him. He is turned but you can see his strained face in the car window’s reflection. Now that you can see him from a closer perspective, he looks abnormally livid, eyes unfocused and panting. He looks like he’s about to pass out, you note. Wait, he is passing out! You barely have the time to catch him before one of his knees falters.

“Hey hey hey- Dude? Are you okay?” you ask, voice full with concern. He mumbles, quite clearly unable to talk. “Fuck” you curse under your breath. You’ll deal with the rope later, you need to treat his wound. You grab his shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you and you start to walk to your apartment complex. He doesn’t even try to complain, and you are grateful; It’s already too difficult to carry his weight in your flimsy heels, especially without a good grasp on him. The ropes around him make it difficult for you to hold him steady, and he almost fell a few times when you tried to get a better grip.

Your perfect bun is ruined by the time you reach the elevator, and you are panting from the effort. Who’d have thought having to drag a semi conscious man across a fucking parking lot would be so difficult? The elevator ride provides you with a break, and you simply keep him against the wall while you catch your breath. His face is lolling forward, chin pressed against his chest. He still looks white as a sheet and you start to worry. Was it really a good idea to bring him home? You are capable of treating wounds, that’s not the problem, but if his wound is too deep or if he needs a blood transfusion you won’t be able to do anything.

“Shit, I should’ve brought you to the hospital,” you say, mainly to yourself as you stare at the elevator’s mirror.

“NO!” he shouts, making your head snap to look at him, alarmed. He managed to lift his head to look at you, his grey eyes burning with a fiery determination. “No hospital,” he repeats, and you nod at him, disconcerted. He calms after your nod, his head sinking back down to his chest.

Entering your apartment was a challenge; You had to hold the black haired man against the wall with your side while you searched your purse for your keys. He almost fell when you found them and forgot to press into him against the wall to open the door. Thankfully for him you realised your mistake early enough, dropping both your keys and bag to keep him from crashing on the wooden floor. You are also grateful none of your neighbours decided to take a midnight stroll, or they would have seen you pressing a tied up and passed out man against the wall with your body while desperately trying to open the door. Hardly something you want to be remembered by.

You plop the unconscious man on the couch unceremoniously, forgetting for a second his wound. You wince when you realise your mistake, but thankfully the man is too out of it to make one of his snarky comments. You retrieve your first aid kit from the bathroom and take advantage of his state to treat his wound. It is not too deep so you are able to patch it up without having to stitch him up. You’ve never been so happy to have a nurse as a mother, having learned most of your healing skills from her. You conclude, relieved, that his passing out is mostly due to the shock rather than excessive blood loss, since he didn’t seem to have a concussion when he talked to you. Adrenaline must have kept him in a conscious state of mind until he realized you didn’t mean any harm.

You cut through the rope with a kitchen knife, taking the opportunity to inspect him for any more injuries. You treat his wrists with an antiseptic cream before bandaging them. He is not otherwise severely harmed, though he does sport some nasty bruises on his –surprisingly toned– chest. What the fuck happened to him?

You sit back on the ground, facing him, when you finally finish your check-up. His breathing is steady and he seems to have regained a splash of color on his face. You take the opportunity to take a better look at him. His features are sharp though he does have a cute button nose and cute pink lips. You shake your head to chase those thoughts. What is wrong with you, checking out a passed out man?

You check for his temperature before sighing. You are incredibly tired, the day was already exhausting as it is, nevermind with this sudden encounter. You decide against putting away the kitchen knife, instead taking it with you to your room. You are nice, not stupid, and though you don’t feel in danger anymore, you are not the one to take unnecessary risks.

It’s already well past midnight when you go to sleep, knife under your pillow. You hope your guest on the couch will wake up early as you need to be up early tomorrow for your job. You’d like him to be gone as soon as possible, men like this only mean trouble. Sure you’d like to know a bit more about him, like how did he wind up in your parking lot at 11pm tied up and injured. But you know the saying, ‘curiosity killed the cat’, and you value your comfortable life too much to put it in jeopardy for a man’s backstory. Who knows what could happen?

———————————————–

You wake up late the next morning. After a quick shower and almost falling flat on your ass trying to get dressed as fast as possible, you sprint out your room into the living room. The couch is empty and you smile to yourself. He’s gone. Good. It’s one less thing for you to worry about so you dart through the door, trying to make it in time before getting chewed out by your boss for arriving 3 minutes late.

You manage to sit at your desk one minute before the start of your shift and you sigh. Here we go again, another day of having to deal with dumbasses. Despite the fact that you woke up late, the rest of the day proves to be quite good. Instead of being his usual manipulative asshole self, your boss decides to ask you in his office to talk about your well deserved promotion, and tells you that an interview is set for you tomorrow in order to decide whether or not you should get the job. You spend the rest of the day on cloud nine, excastic to finally see your hard work rewarded.

You rush home after another hard day of work, sleep deprived and craving the comfort of your covers. It seems however that fate has other plans for you, you realise when you open the door to fall on last night’s guest. He was still here. Shit. He is comfortably seated on your couch, feet on the table while he’s watching TV. Eyes wide, you drop your bag on the floor.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! I thought you were gone!” you shout at him. He nonchalantly eyes you up and down, smirking at your crestfallen expression.

“You locked me in this morning,” he answers simply. “I couldn’t open the door to get out.”

The way he pronounces these words without a care in the world leads you to believe he mustn’t have tried really hard to get out. You bring your hands to rub your face, feeling anger building up within you. Who does he think he is?

“You have a nice place,” he says gesturing around him with his hand. “Also, you shouldn’t keep a knife under your pillow, it’s dangerous,” he adds, brows furrowed in fake concern.

“You went in my room?!” you ask, clearly fuming. The nerve of this guy!

“Of course, I had to make sure I couldn’t find another exit”, he says, as if it was obvious. This guy is seriously getting on your last nerve, and you grit your teeth, trying to avoid exploding in his face. He seems to pick up on your aggravated state and his face becomes serious. He lifts his feet from the table, standing up to move closer to face you.

“Thank you for last night. I owe you a lot”

He bows slightly and it’s like your anger evaporates, making way for your curiosity to take over.

“Yeah about that… What happened to you last night?” His face hardens instantly and his whole body stiffens. He seems to ponder what to say for a while, obviously not quite ready to let you in on the situation.

“I can’t tell you–”

“I think you owe me that much” you retort, interrupting his refusal. He huffs and thinks for a bit more time.

“You’re right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I had… uh…  Some troubles… With a gang”

By the way he forces the words out of his mouth, you figure this is the most you’ll get out of him right now. It does make sense in a way, and you are now glad you could help him. You hum in acknowledgment and he seems relieved to know you won’t ask anymore questions. It’s his business anyway, and you already know enough.

“I figure that you need to lay low for a while, wrong?” you sigh, passing by him to go to the kitchen. He looks surprised but quickly regains his composure. He hums positively, still not quite sure where this is going. “It’s late, you can stay tonight as well if you want.” 

You don’t know why you are saying this. Inviting a stranger to stay for one more night? Are you going nuts? Are you really that lonely that you would invite someone –whom you met in sketchy circumstances, let’s not forget– to spend the night with you? His response cuts the little voice in your head nagging at you.

“That’d be good, yes” and you turn to meet his eyes. His face is still serious but you can discern a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m Y/l/n Y/n by the way”

“Min Yoongi”

“Nice to meet you, Yoongi. Tonight’s menu is take out,” you say, turning to face him completely, leaning on the counter behind you.

“I’m fine with that,” he says with a playful smile and you don’t fail to notice the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. Did you say something funny?

You brush it off, instead focusing on ordering chicken fried rice and dumplings from your favorite chinese place in the neighborhood on your phone. Yoongi returns to focus on the TV while you order, and you take advantage of this to observe him. At first glance, he looks fairly nonchalant, without a care in the world, but the more you examine him, you notice the slight movements of his eyes whenever you make a sound. He doesn’t look uneasy, more like generally careful of you. In fact, it looks like he chose to sit where he could monitor you without you catching him, sitting at a certain angle so he doesn’t have to turn his head to watch you.

You gulp, suddenly feeling more on edge than before. Now that you see it, he seems more controlled than you would think, as though the very way he sits is meticulous; as if to convey that he is non-threatening to you, while still being able to act if need be. You can’t help but feel he might have downplayed his troubles, that type of behaviour does not match with a small lowlife’s who would just have “some troubles with a gang”. No, he knows what he’s doing, and has known from the very beginning, purposefully using sarcasm to break the tension and get you to help him. You don’t think he manipulated you into bringing him home though, that man was too passed out to manage that feat.

You grab the counter to ground you. Realising you just welcomed someone that appears to be dangerous and manipulative into your own home is not a great feeling. If Yoongi has noticed your sudden tenseness, he doesn’t let it show. He’ll be gone by tomorrow, you remind yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. You feel like a prey stuck with a wolf in sheep’s disguise. But you are no damsel in distress, you’ll be just fine if you stay wary. Keep your guard up while not letting him know you figured him out. Guess you’ll be sleeping with a knife under your pillow tonight as well.

The rest of the night continues on fairly pleasantly. You do most of the talking during the night, telling him stories about your awful boss and your dream job. Yoongi is actually good company, listening to you with a smile, though you still feel that he contains himself. You purposefully avoid talking about his past or his job, not wanting to make a wrong move and anger him. The less you know the better. The atmosphere between the two of you is still somewhat tense, and you all but jump when the doorbell rings, announcing your dinner’s arrival.

He does seem to relax once his stomach full, even going as far to flash you a gummy smile when you lose balance and the empty take out boxes come crashing onto the ground. Granted, he was laughing at your clumsiness but you had a good time nonetheless.

“I need to be up early tomorrow, I should hit the sack,” you say while throwing out the take out boxes. “I’ll leave at 7:30 so you’ll have to leave at that time too”, you add and he hums in understanding.

You bid him goodnight before entering your room and as you are pushing the door a small “Thank you, Y/n” escapes his lips. You turn around and return his small smile. Is it just you or did this one seem sincere?

———————————————–

You don’t wake up sleep deprived this time around. In fact, you feel better than you have in a while. Is this the effect of having company for once? You scoff at your own thoughts before preparing yourself for the day. No, it’s of course because of your near new job interview. Yoongi is up and ready when you step out of your room to get your coffee, his wet hair sticking to his face.

“You want one?”, you ask him, pointing at the coffee machine. He nods and thanks you when you hand him a coffee. This morning feels a little awkward, you note. You are not quite sure what to say in this situation, and apparently neither is he because the both of you are just staring at each other while sipping your coffees, waiting for the other to say something. You also note the contrast between you too; him, wearing worn out grey jeans and an oversized khaki bomber jacket, and you, wearing a tight black skirt, an assorted suit jacket and an ironed white blouse. Once done with your coffee, you slip your uncomfortable heels and the both of you step out into the elevator.

It is finally time for you to separate when you step out on the street. You turn to face him, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What to say? You are relieved when he starts talking first.

“Thank you for letting me stay, Y/n, I owe you one”, he says with a small smile.

“Well, two if we’re honest”, you answer with a smirk. He looks at you amused. You take a glance at your watch. “Alright, I should go, or I’ll be late for my interview. Goodbye, Min Yoongi”. You wave at him. You fail to notice the men coming up from behind him. You should have, you have never seen them before, and them sporting black clothes and heavy gold chains would have stuck with you. Yoongi does notice the ones coming from behind you though, his eyes widening. It’s far too late however, and he cannot reach you before he is grabbed from the back. You scream when you feel two pairs of hands on each side of you, maintaining you in place. Yoongi is trying to fight off his assailants but he is quickly overpowered, knocked out by a nasty blow to his temple. For your credit, your struggling gave them a hard time trying to contain you as well, scratching and kicking in every direction, but a hit in the face is enough to finally calm you, rendering you unconscious.

———————————————-

You wake up face down in the trunk of a car. You can tell by the sound of the engine as well as the smell of gasoline. Your head hurts and you are disoriented. Everything is dark and you are cramped up in a tiny space, something soft under you. The haze surrounding your mind lifts instantaneously when you remember what happened before you blacked out. You struggle when you find out your hands and feet are tied up, but still at once when the soft thing under you releases an ‘ooomph’ sound.

“Yoongi?!”, you shriek. You immediately regret speaking so loud, cursing under your breath. Just because you can’t hear them in the car doesn’t mean they can’t hear you.

“Yeah..” he responds, voice strained, obviously in pain from the elbow you lodged in his ribs as you tried to move around.

“What the fuck is going on?”, you whisper-shout, anger boiling in your veins. You knew that man was trouble but you invited him in anyway. This is what you get when you don’t listen to your instincts. You hear him sigh above your head.

“Remember the gang I told you about?” he says tentatively, knowing you are only inches away from exploding. “Well, I killed their leader and they are not very happy with me right now.”

You can’t believe what you are hearing.

“And that’s ‘some troubles’ for you?! What the fuck, Yoongi?!”

“That’s really all that you take away from what I just said?”, he retorts in disbelief.

No, it’s really not. But right now, the fact that you are acquaintances with a murderer is the least of your worries. “Fuck”, you utter, hitting your head softly on his chest. The fear mixing with anger inside you makes it difficult for you to think. How are you going to get out of this mess?

“You seem awfully calm for someone who’s just been kidnapped, Yoongi”, you say against his chest, your head still a bit dizzy from the hit you’ve received from your kidnappers.

“This is not my first rodeo, sweetheart”

You scoff at his nonchalant response, but it somehow reassures you a bit. At least you are not alone.

“So, what’s your fucking plan to get us out of here then, cowboy?”, you ask, expecting a brilliant plan to get the both of you out of harm’s way unscathed and-

“I don’t know yet”

Were you drinking anything, you would’ve spat your drink in his face in disbelief. But you are not, so you decide to head butt him in the chest instead. Hard.

“Ow, what the fuck?”, he whisper-shouts, obviously surprised by your sudden violence.

“You got me in this mess dude, now you get me out of it!”

You are seeing red. Even in this kind of situation he isn’t serious, driving you crazy with his nonchalant responses. He is going to get me killed, you think to yourself.

“I’ve escaped once from them, I can do it again. They are not exactly the brightest bunch”, he says, and you feel him shift under you. “The sole fact that they took you with me is proof. Would you turn on your back please, darling?”

Though you don’t understand why, you comply without a complaint. The man is supposed to be used to this, now’s not the time to ask questions. You twist on your back with difficulty, not without purposefully elbowing him in the stomach once again, disguising it as an accident when he starts to curse you out. As soon as you are in position, you feel his hands feeling around their way to yours, reaching your binds in no time. You can’t help but shriek when the cold blade of what you guess is a knife touches your forearm.

“First rule of kidnapping, darling, always check the belt”, he explains while cutting through the rope attaching your wrists together with dexterity. You are free in less time that you need to say it, rubbing your chafed wrists in disbelief. You are impressed to say the least, and quite relieved to have underestimated your kidnappee buddy. He hands you the knife.

“Alright, now I need you to free our feet. With you on top of me like that I can’t do it”

You start to shift in the small space trying to bend in order to reach your feet, feeling as you go. You’ve never been the most flexible but you don’t pay mind to the pain in your lower back as you start to cut through the rope around his feet, a weird feeling of deja vu settling in the back of your mind.

“Wait… Is that MY kitchen knife?!”, you ask in an ushered yet still incredulous voice, recognizing the grip of the knife in your hands.

“Of course it is”, he says as if it was obvious. “Did you seriously think that I, a hit-man searched for by the most dangerous gang of the country, would leave anywhere unarmed?”, he adds after hearing your disbelieving scoff. His feet are free now and you start to cut through your binds.

“The most dangerous- What?! I thought you said they weren’t the brightest bunch?!”, you reply, incredulous, stopping to cut for a second.

“Well yes, I killed the brains of the gang”, he says matter-of-factly. “You done with the knife? Give it to me.”

You hand him back the knife, your ankles now free of the restraints. The car is still moving, and you start to wonder what Yoongi is planning to do. Best course of action would probably be to wait for the car to stop and the kidnappers to open the trunk, taking them by surprise.

This doesn’t seem to be what Yoongi has in mind however, as you feel him start to rip off the carpet on the floor of the trunk. Your eyes widen but you try to move over to the front part of the trunk, letting him space to go on his rampage on the carpet. Has he gone mad? Is this how you die?

“What the fuck are you doing?”, you ask him through gritted teeth. Now’s not the time to attract attention.

“I’m looking for the trunk release cable” he says flatly, obviously focused on his task.

“Huh?”

“It should be… Right about… Here!” He pulls on something at once and the trunk suddenly opens. Your eyes hurt from the abrupt surge of light and you shield your eyes. The car starts to sway dangerously, the kidnappers obviously as surprised as you are to see the trunk pop open. Your eyes don’t have the time to accommodate before Yoongi yanks you by your hand, making you crash in his chest, before jumping, effectively throwing the both of you out of the trunk onto the road. Thankfully, Yoongi had the presence of mind to jump at an angle, making you tumble into the sidewalk instead of underneath the wheels of the car behind yours.

You barely have time to register what just happened before Yoongi pulls you by the hand again. Everything hurts and you are not quite sure what just happened, but you follow suit, running after him. You discard the only heel left on your feet after your little acrobatic feat in order to be able to run properly on the sidewalk. You don’t even pay mind to the incredulous glares the two of you gather. Oh what a sight you must be, running barefoot in the streets, cheeks, hands and knees wounded, your clothes a mess and your previously done up hair flowing in the wind. There are not many people around, making it easy for you to run, but easy for your kidnappers to find you. The car must have stopped a few moments after the trunk popped open because men are running after you, screaming.

Yoongi makes a sudden turn in a narrow and dark alleyway. You want to ask him where he is leading you but you are too breathless to even say a word. You don’t know how long you’ll be able to keep going like that, especially since your feet are starting to hurt from the gravel and the shards of glass covering the alleyway. You keep on running anyway, somehow convinced that the man running in front of you knows what he’s doing.

The sound of a gunshot rings right next to your ears, the bullet embedding itself on the wall alongside you. You shriek as the sound brings you back to earth, and you start to run even faster, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, continuing to run, brows furrowed and eyes trained in front of him. You make a second abrupt turn, leading even deeper in the maze of alleyways of your city. This part of the town is known to be the headquarters of the criminal activity, so it’s no wonder you are completely lost here whereas Yoongi expertly proceeds through, leading you to an unknown place.

The deeper you sink in the maze, the more people you meet, and the more scared you become. Everything is so foreign and dangerous to you, and you grip tighter on Yoongi’s hand as he pushes through the mob. It might be a bit stereotypical but these people all look too intimidating to you, especially since you are running away from men who just tried to kill you. You should thank them really, since they help you escape, unbeknownst to them. The alleys are larger now, though still very dark, and your nose catches whiffs of grilled meat and other delicacies as you run past the shady food stands. You are a bit overwhelmed as you progress through the crowd; Your heart is beating in your ears and your mind is racing, unable to entirely make sense of what you are experiencing.

Yoongi yanks on your hand once again, beckoning you to turn in yet another alley. This one is distinctly smaller and emptier than the former, and Yoongi stops abruptly in front of a back door, letting go of your hand to pound on the dirty metal door. His pounding is insistent and for the first time he looks nervous, eyeing where you just came from warily. The door doesn’t seem to want to open despite his persistence and he starts to curse. Behind him, you are quite literally trembling with anxiety. Your heart is throbbing in your chest and you only just realise your cheeks are wet with tears. Have you been crying the whole time?

“Fuck Jin, open the god damn door!”, Yoongi shouts, fist thumping against the metal, startling you from your thoughts. The door finally rattles and opens to reveal a tall yawning man. His brows are furrowed in discontent and you can tell he is going to chew Yoongi out before stopping crestfallen upon seeing his state. He doesn’t even notice you at first, too preoccupied for his friend to cast you a glance.

“Took you long enough” Yoongi grumbles, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside after him, pushing past his friend who is still staring at him, mouth open wide. The latter sighs before closing the door without a word and following you. The doorway leads to a small living room with a kitchen in the corner lit up by a yellow light bulb. Yoongi lets go of your hand to sink on the couch, and you stay still, not quite sure what to do while Jin settles on the armchair on the opposite side.

Jin looks fairly angry, his eyebrows furrowed and his tired brown eyes shooting daggers at Yoongi. He passes a hand through his black hair, exposing his forehead. He is obviously waiting for Yoongi to explain, his plump lips pressed in a tight line when he realises his friend isn’t going to say anything.

“What the hell are you doing here and what happened to you?” is the first thing he says, concern not well hidden under the apparent annoyance in his tone. He turns his head to you and he shoots you a concerned look. “And who is she?”

Normally, you would have clapped back that she has a name and that if he wanted to know anything about you he could ask directly, but you are too shocked to say anything, still unable to register what is happening right now. He must sense what state you are in because he walks to the kitchen and offers you a drink. You accept it wordlessly, staring blankly at him and then at the glass.

“Well apparently, Wolf’s Fang did not appreciate me killing their leader and tried to kidnap me. Twice”, Yoongi replies with his usual nonchalance. You are happy to note that you are not the only one it drives crazy, judging by the look on Jin’s face.

“Wolf’s Fa- Yoongi, I told you not to approach them, they are trouble,” he says, jaws clenched in obvious annoyance as his friend shrugs. He sighs and turns to you. You can tell he is trying hard to conceal his anger, though the furiousness of his eyes betrays him. “You don’t look so good, sweetheart, you should go to the bathroom”, he tells you, pointing at a corridor. He doesn’t need to pry, you are happy to get away from the tension in the room, making your way towards said corridor.

The bathroom is small, covered in tile. You lock yourself in, slashing your face with cold water, eager for the haze surrounding your mind to leave. You might have a small concussion from your earlier acrobatic feat, along with the mild marks of road burns on the side of your head. You can still hear the argument in the living room between the two men, and you cut the flow of water to listen to the ushered voices.

“-I told you it was the worst idea you’ve ever had, I can’t believe you did it anyway”

“What was I supposed to do, Jin, let them get away with it?”

“It was twenty years ago Yoongi-”

“They killed my parents, I don’t really think there’s a ‘best before’ date on revenge.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it. Just because you are used to killing people doesn’t mean you can take on everyone, Yoongi. They were too dangerous for you but you still went away and killed their leader. I told you to wait and build a team but no, you couldn’t fucking wait, could you? I shouldn’t have told you.”

“It was MY revenge Hyung-”

“That’s why you involved the girl?” Your brows furrow, and you sit on the toilet seat, eager to know what they are going to say about you. Yoongi takes a second before answering, his voice calmer and you have to strain your ears to hear him.

“No. That- That was a mistake. She found me the first time I escaped and she helped me.”

“And that’s how you repay her, by implicating her in your shit?”

“No, I- I just wasn’t careful enough. I didn’t mean for her to get caught up in this.”

“Awww, little Black Crow didn’t want her to get caught in this” Jin retorts sarcastically. “Well guess what, fucker, because of you she’s going to have to hide from one of the biggest gangs in the damn city! I don’t even care that you bring ME into this mess, but you just had to involve an innocent person. I thought you despised that.”

“I fucking hate it!”, Yoongi shouts. “But it’s too late to change anything about that, isn’t it Hyung?”

You rise from your seat, having heard enough. You don’t want them to fight because of you, and you’re afraid you’ve spent much more time in the bathroom than appropriate. Having finally regained your senses, you feel the strain your chase has on your body; your muscles ache and your feet are bloody, shards of glass and tiny pieces of gravel embedded in your skin. You tiptoe back into the living, jaw clenched from the pain, trying to avoid putting too much weight on your feet as well as bloodying the floor. They both fall quiet when you appear through the opening of the corridor, eyeing you with concern.

You can easily guess what is going on in their heads. You are still very pale, and you seem weak, eyes still a bit unfocused as you lean on the wall for support. they must wonder how much you’ve heard, and how much of a problem you are going to be to them. You are a witness and you know what Yoongi does for a living - ha, puns- and though it hasn’t crossed your mind to call the police on them, they don’t know that. Finally, you still have a gang trying to snag you, and you don’t know just how much information your kidnappers have on you. They could try to use you as bait, thinking Yoongi must be attached to you in some way.

In conclusion, this is a mess. You’ve missed both work and your interview this morning and people are bound to ask questions about your whereabouts. You’ve always been the most diligent in terms of work, never taking a day off or arriving more than 10 minutes late. You obviously don’t have your phone or your wallet on you right now, having lost everything when you were kidnapped, and trying to go back to your apartment right now, without your keys on top of that, seems fruitless.

“How are you feeling?”, Jin asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence that settled in the room.

“Still a bit light-headed. I might have a minor concussion… I think. Also I need a first aid kit, if you have one please?”

“Sure, I’ll get you that. Sit down.”

You settle on the other side of the couch as Jin exits the room from the corridor. Yoongi hasn’t said anything yet but you can see hints of concern in his eyes. Similarly to you, his already scarred cheek and his hands are bruised because of the fall from the car, though he doesn’t seem to have hit his head -which isn’t surprising since, unlike you, he was expecting the impact. He moves closer to you on the couch to take your hands in his, observing the wounds on the back of your hands.

You are slightly taken aback but don’t say anything, an unexpected blush creeping on your cheeks. He seems too focused on your hands to notice your tenseness, and you are glad. What the hell is wrong with you? It must be the concussion, making your cheeks heat up, because it certainly can’t be the way his soft hands delicately hold yours- No! What is going on in this brain of yours?

“Are your feet okay?” he asks suddenly, and you squeak in surprise as his grey eyes find yours. He doesn’t comment on your reaction, and you are happy to not receive one of his snarky remarks.

“Not really, that’s why I asked for the first aid ki- Whoa, what are you doing?!”, you shriek when he grabs your legs to prop them on the couch. He sits at the end of the couch, grimacing as he takes in the poor state of the bottom of your feet.

“There’s gravel in there, I’ll have to clean it up–”, he starts.

“No- No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll do it myself,” you interrupt, slightly panicked. To be completely honest, you don’t really trust him to do any good. The man doesn’t exactly save lives, he takes them, and he doesn’t really strike you as the healer type. You think you are saved when Jin comes back and hands you the first aid kit, one of his eyebrows raising in a silent question as he reads the anxiousness on your face. Unfortunately for you, Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind your nervousness, simply snatching the kit from your hands and putting himself to work.

Turns out you were nervous for -mostly- nothing. Yoongi actually has a steady hand, and he removes all gravel and shards of glass in an instant and rather unpainfully. He does however make the mistake of spraying antiseptic directly in your wounds, which hurts like hell. He apologizes profusely, obviously distraught by your unexpected blood curdling scream while Jin laughs freely at his startled face. As he finishes bandaging your feet and Jin brings you hotel slippers to wear for the night. They are way too big for your feet but actually quite comfortable so you accept them with a smile.

You are set to stay low in Jin’s place for the day. It would be too dangerous to leave today according to both Yoongi and Jin, and the both of them decide that you would leave during the night.

“It’s at that time that the alleys are the more crowded,” explained Jin, “the less attention you draw, the better”. That is a kind of logic you can get behind, especially since you can barely walk - let alone run if anything goes wrong.

Yoongi advises you to sleep when he notices your eyes getting droopy, and he leads you to a bedroom. You sink on the bed in exhaustion, your body suddenly refusing to carry you anymore. You feel sleep enveloping you as Yoongi starts to leave the bedroom.

“What’s going to happen after we leave?” you ask sleepily, barely keeping your eyes open. The question stops him dead in his tracks, and he turns to face you, a serious look on his face. He ponders for a little while before answering you.

“I’ll bring you to my place and we’ll find a way for you to go back to your life,” he responds, eyes earnest and you hum sleepily in acknowledgement. Satisfied with the answer, you let yourself slip into an easy sleep.

———————————————–

You wake up a few hours later, with an empty stomach but an already clearer head. It takes you a minute to remember exactly what happened to you and where you are, feeling dejected when you realise it wasn’t just a very realistic nightmare. It’s all his fault, you realize. Your life was going well before you decided to help Yoongi - well, before you were manipulated into helping him is more correct. Even if you despise your job because of your boss, you still enjoy your little routine. Working during the week to pay off your loan, writing during the weekend or enjoying your free time. Sure you were alone most of the time and you longed to meet new people, you still liked your quiet life. It was all supposed to come together today once you’d get that promotion, but no, that had to be ruined for you. One thing is certain: once all of this is over, you don’t want to ever hear from Min Yoongi again.

You decide to limp to the living room, the rumbling of your stomach prompting you to seek sustenance. Both Jin and Yoongi are in the living room, Yoongi sleeping on the couch while Jin is busy on the phone looking out the window near the kitchen. His brows are furrowed and he looks deep in thought, making you reconsider asking him for food right now. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you entering the room and sitting on the armchair, and you take advantage of this to stare at him in tranquillity.

It makes no doubt for you now that Jin is also a very dangerous man. If his earlier behaviour wasn’t particularly intimidating in any way, the man barking at the phone in front of you  exudes a deadly aura. He is quite obviously trying to resolve the mess his younger friend put himself -and you- into, calling multiple people and furiously scribbling on a notepad on the counter in between calls. He seems to know exactly who to contact, calling people back to back, until he slams his phone on the table, sighing in exasperation. He takes his head in his hands and sighs again.

“Jin?” you ask tentatively, and Jin’s head snaps in your direction. His dark eyes immediately find yours, and you gulp, intimidated by his intense glare. When he realises it’s just you, his features soften and you feel yourself being able to breathe again.

“Do you have something I could eat?” you ask after he beckons you to speak with a hum. He nods, making his way to the cupboards. He rummages through them and you settle on a stool behind the counter. Jin doesn’t look satisfied as he pulls out a cup of instant ramen and he shoots you an apologetic smile. “Ramen is fine,” you assure him, feeling too hungry to fuss over the quality of the meal. It actually reminds you of your student days, living off ramen, coffee and the sheer will of escaping your parent’s house. Granted this is not how you envisioned your future, running away from a gang with your new friend Yoongi the murderer, but you longed for adventure, right?

Well it’s not like you have much of a choice anyway, you remind yourself as Jin sets the meager meal in front of you. You must pull a crestfallen grimace because Jin laughs at you and you dive in, eager to hide the embarrassment creeping on your cheeks at his windshield wiper laugh.

“Who were you calling?” you ask with a mouth full, keen to change the focus on him rather than you. He rests his elbows on the counter across from you and he tries to find his words.

“People who could help resolve the situation,” he answers simply.

“Right… ‘Resolve’” you say with a sarcastic smile. The only way to ‘resolve’ the situation, as Jin says, is surely to take out the gang altogether. It is obviously weak at the moment because of the loss of their boss, and it’s the best time to strike.

“We need to ensure your security - that is, unless you believe you can do it alone?” he retorts, raising one of his eyebrows in defiance. You scoff at his smirk.

“Of course not.” You pause. “Thank you for helping me,” you add earnestly after a second.

“Don’t thank me, thank Yoongi. He’s the one who asked me to help you. Apparently he owes you”, he says dismissively, returning to the kitchen to throw away your no empty ramen cup. You swallow with difficulty. Of course he’s only doing that because he owes you, what did you expect? Both of those men are hardened criminals, though you don’t exactly know what Jin dwelves in. It would be foolish of you to think that neither of them is protecting you out of the goodness of their hearts. They are not as naive and generous as you are, and Yoongi could easily have left you to die had you not saved him earlier.

No wait… This is because of him that you are in this mess, of course he has to fix this situation!

“Anyways,” Jin adds as he comes back to face you, “Yoongi is going to bring you to a safer location and then he - along with my team - is going to sort this mess out. And then you’ll be good to go, as if this never happened.”

He emphasizes his last words with a dark fixed gaze on you. You gulp at his sudden change of demeanor from casual to threatening. You know exactly what he means by that; You’ll have to keep quiet about what happened, or else. You nod a bit too eagerly, suddenly intimidated by him. This seems to please him however, and he smiles at you, obviously content that you understand the true meaning of his words.

You spend the next hour or so abstently watching TV from the armchair while waiting, Yoongi still happily slumbering on the couch. There isn’t much more to do than wait, and you are bored out of your wits by the time Jin decides Yoongi slept too much and hits him with a rolled up magazine to wake him up.

“What the- What was that for?!” Yoongi indignantly asks, rubbing his head, his still sleepy eyes shooting daggers at the elder.

“It’s time for you to move” is all he says before he leaves the room, not even paying attention to the string of curses Yoongi sends flying his way. You chuckle at his indignation and he shoots you a dark look, amusing you even further. He sighs before chuckling too and he rises from the couch to stretch his limbs. Jin comes back to the living room with a backpack he chucks at Yoongi. The latter catches it effortlessly before sitting back on the couch to rummage through it, taking out a gun and observing it, checking the magazine in a swift motion.

“You might need that,” Jin says, leaning back against the kitchen counter and Yoongi thanks him. You eye warrily the weapon; You can’t say you feel particularly reassured with this. You’ve never been one to like firearms, and the sole fact that you were shot at earlier today reinforces your apprehension. Yoongi seems to sense your tenseness and he hands you your kitchen knife. You look at him questioningly.

“It might be too early for you to use a gun, let’s stick with things you know for now,” he explains with a knowing smile. For now. You can see Jin’s eyebrows furrow in the corner of your eyes but you don’t comment on his choice of words, merely nodding in understanding. There’s also a pair of grey sneakers in the bag, which Yoongi throws your way. They are too big for your feet but this is the best you are going to get so you don’t complain. You are now set to leave and Yoongi beckons you to follow him through the corridor. There’s a back door that you hadn’t noticed after the door leading to the bedroom.

Yoongi reaches to open the door and stops, taking a look at you. You are opening your mouth to ask him what’s wrong when he suddenly removes his jacket to throw it around your shoulders.

“You’ll attract too much attention otherwise” he says, and he slips through the door. You follow him into the alleyways, clutching his jacket to cover you more, hiding the knife in your hands under it.

The alleys, much like Jin explained, are more crowded than when you arrived. You are significantly less scared than before, focusing on following the man in front of you instead of observing the people around you. Yoongi is leading you through the crowd, eyes scanning the mob looking for potential threats. Jin had advised you to leave separately but it just wasn’t possible for you to navigate through this maze alone, and you are grateful to be with Yoongi right now.

People don’t seem to pay much attention to either of you and you are able to reach an underground parking lot safely. Yoongi had made sure you weren’t followed before reaching for keys in the bag. He presses the button and the lights of a car a few rows from where you are flare up. Yoongi grabs your hand and leads the both of you to the black car, letting you get seated on the passenger side before unceremoniously throwing the bag on the back seat.

The car is surprisingly nice, a black Mercedes with tan leather seats. You squeak in surprise when Yoongi makes the engine roar as you are attaching your seat belt. You don’t even have the time to say anything before he slams the acceleration pedal, leaving the parking spot like a mad man. You grip the armrest in a futile attempt to feel safer, not quite at ease with Yoongi’s aggressive driving.

You can tell he is a good driver, expertly avoiding the few other cars as he speeds down the highway, but you can’t help your heart from pounding in your chest. You’ve never been this fast on the road, and the happy glimmer in Yoongi’s eyes everytime he goes faster doesn’t exactly reassure you.

The only positive aspect with him driving this fast is that you quickly arrive at the destination. You are surrounded by tall glass buildings, and you furrow your brows. This can’t be where Yoongi lives, can it? It doesn’t make sense. Yoongi parks the car in another underground parking structure, and you step out of the car with wobbly legs and a confused expression plastered on your face. You don’t even have time to ask the first of the thousands of questions swarming your mind right now before Yoongi makes his way towards an elevator.

Unlike you, he seems perfectly at ease as he waits for the elevator, even smirking at your bemused face. The ding of the elevator makes you step out of your thoughts and you start to stammer as you follow Yoongi inside. He presses the button going to the 37th level.

“You- You live here?!” you ask, incredulous as the elevator starts its ascension. He shoots you another smirk, his eyes playful.

“What, you think I kill for the sole pleasure of it? Of course not, I’m not a monster, Y/n.”

“I- I don’t–”

“Hitman is a relatively high paying job, I’ll have you know,” Yoongi explains in fake seriousness, obviously reveling on your confused state of mind. You raise one of your eyebrows in defiance at his words, eyeing him up and down as if to prove a point. He isn’t exactly dressed as someone who makes a lot of money. He scoffs at your attitude, and he crosses his arms on his chest.

“Hey! I like these clothes!” he says in indignation and you roll your eyes at him. The elevator stops and the both of you step out of it. “Anyway, nobody knows about this place so we’ll be safe here,” he says while walking to a door at the end of a corridor.

“Nobody?” you ask as he opens the door.

“Not even Jin. It’s a safe measure. I don’t know where he lives either. No one in the gang does. That way, if someone gets caught, they won’t be able to tell where the others are.”

He opens the door and enters his apartment. You take a second to look around you. His apartment is big and modern. The walls are painted white, contrasting with his dark furniture. In the back of the apartment is a huge window, providing an incredible view of the city. But the view is unable to distract you from the many questions swirling in your mind; How many people has he had to kill in order to pay for a place like this? The place you were at just earlier wasn’t Jin’s home? The gang? What is going on? Yoongi must notice your confusion – maybe because you are still on the doorstep, staring around with a gaping mouth – because he sighs and starts to explain further.

“We were not at Jin’s. It’s one of our safe places all over the city. There’s always at least one member there, and this time it was Jin’s shift and I knew he was going to be there,” he starts explaining.

“Wait wait- You are in a gang?!” you exclaim, eyes wide. The more you think you know about Yoongi the more lost you get. It wasn’t bad enough that he is an assassin, he’s also part of a gang?

“Would you please come in before shouting those kinds of things?” he retorts through gritted teeth, ushering you inside and closing the door. You sink down on the leather couch and stare in the void, still not quite able to process everything. You should have seen it coming if you are really honest, but it seems that you find yourself to be in an even bigger mess than you thought everytime Yoongi tries to explain himself.

“Yes, I’m in a gang. I’m an assassin. Jin is the leader’s right-hand man. More than that he is my friend,” he says, eyeing you warrily and holding his hands up in a defensive stance, as if scared you’ll explode. If anything, you should be the one to be scared, you think to yourself, especially since you can’t understand why he would say that. Perhaps it’s because you are aware of what would happen to you, would you ever try to say anything to anyone. Not that anyone would believe your story anyway, or that you would risk telling anything to anyone. You shudder when you remember Jin’s hidden warning. Yoongi lowers his hands as you seem to have calmed down and he sits across from you on a leather armchair.

“I talked with Jin about taking down Wolf’s Fang. I’ll leave tomorrow to deal with that with other members of the gang. Then you’ll go back to your life”, he explains nonchalantly. For some unknown reason, his last words set you ablaze with rage.

“What life, Yoongi? You ruined that, remember?” you spit at him harshly, rising from your seat. He looks completely taken aback by your sudden outburst. You had made sure not to let show how much you resent him for dragging you in this situation; You needed him to fix everything, and shouting at him that it’s all his fault surely wouldn’t help your plans at all. But you snap because of his nonchalant attitude. He destroyed your chances at getting your promotion, having to go no-contact. He put you at risk of getting kidnapped and then shot, even though he knew he was himself in danger.

“Aren’t you an assassin, aren’t you part of a gang? Didn’t you know you would put me in danger with you?” you shout at him, pointing at him aggressively to emphasize your words.

“I didn’t mean–” he starts, but you interrupt him. Anger is bubbling inside you and you can’t contain it anymore.

“You knew you were putting me in danger but you stayed anyway!”

“You were the one who said I could lay low at yours!” he retorts, rising from his seat. You scoff at his irrelevant argument and he immediately cringes at his poor wording.

“I didn’t know you were an assassin and a gang member! I would’ve thought twice about letting you come into my life if I knew I’d get kidnapped!” you spit, your jaw clenched in anger.

“I didn’t want this!”

“Well I sure hope so!”, you scoff, hands rising in the air in disbelief. “But what did you seriously expect, huh?” You try to chase away the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Now is not the time to cry.

“I know I should’ve left you!” he starts in anger but his voice breaks and he looks away. You look at him in confusion. You are not used to seeing vulnerability in him. Granted you don’t really know him but this feels out of character for him. “I just- I didn’t want to be alone,” he says, voice pregnant with emotion. You are taken aback by his sudden openness, brows furrowed and mouth gaping in confusion. He still doesn’t look at you, and you don’t manage to say anything, too lost to be able to utter a word.

He passes a hand through his black hair and sighs loudly. The both of you are standing awkwardly, you staring at him and him making a point of avoiding your eyes. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, anything, but you are left utterly speechless. He scoffs darkly before walking towards the back of the room to a kitchen.

“Anyway, you’ll be safe tomorrow, and you’ll be able to leave.”

Yoongi exits the room and you are left alone with your thoughts.

—————————————————

You decide to sit on the floor in front of the big windows, enjoying the unending view. It must be one in the morning, and the streets are empty, apart from the odd car driving down the road every once in a while. The sight is calming, as you see the few lights still lit up in the night. Your apartment is not exactly downtown so you don’t have a view as nice as this one. Everything is so silent, so still. You know exactly why you are staring so intensely at the view, trying to chase any thought of Yoongi.

You are definitely calmer now but you don’t want to think about him, trying to bottle up any emotion deep down. You’ve never been one to have a healthy relationship with your feelings, and you are not going to start now. Most of your resentment is gone now that you finally confronted him about it, but your last exchange only left confusion. Confusion on what he was talking about, but also on why your heart squeezed so painfully when you saw him so vulnerable or when he walked away from you. You bring your knees to your chest.

In a way, you can understand where he is coming from. You let him stay and threw all care in the wind also because you were feeling lonely. Perhaps both of you were weak at that moment. Surely he should have been more careful, but you don’t blame him as much as you did before.

You hear a door open and close but you don’t move from your spot, keeping your eyes trained on the view. From the corner of your eyes, you see Yoongi sit cross legged next to you. The both of you stay in silence like that for a bit

the amount of disrespect, this MAN

opening sequence | myg

drabbles inspired by TXT’s album minisode 2: thursday’s child

warnings: language, angst, mentions of drug use / dealing; also inspired by dear my friend byagust d ft kim jong wan of nell; reader’s POV; starring Min Yoongi

denial.the first stage of grief

-

“You’re okay.”

“You know I’m not.”

“Come on, get up.”

“Get off me.”

He held on.

You almost wretched your arm from his grasp, but Min Yoongi’s grip tightened, and he held on, which was doing a lot more than some people in your life. Why did you believe? You should have never believed. All this time, why? How foolish. You never believed in the conventional love story, so why now?

You stared at them.

The photos scattered around you.

He gave you one every week. Polaroids of lovely moments, dates, hand hearts, smiles, sunny skies and dreamy rain. Sharing an umbrella. A shaved ice with two spoons in it. The sea and the sand. The countryside with the fields of yellow flowers.

The dreams of the dead.

“I told you not to come.”

“It’s my responsibility to check up on you,” he said softly.

Rain.

Just a little rain, right here, drop my drop, falling down, blurring the photos all around you on the floor, the spot that you had been lying on for nearly two days, replaying the moment over and over. The bump on the street, the gasp and spilling of coffee, looking up and sighing exasperatedly into a smile that began the opening sequence that you wish never happened.

That’s so cliché.

“He was my best friend too.”

“That was a long time ago,” you croaked back and you were surprised to find your voice soaked, reaching up and wiping your tears away with the base of your palm, flinging the little rain onto the other photos, ridding yourself of them, because why cry?  There was no reason to cry. “You had better things to do.” Slapping your hands down onto those colors, flipping them over one by one, black squares in a domino effect since that was what it really was, black squares covering up the dark moments, the reveal of a small habit, it’s nothing, seeing the blood on his arm, don’t worry, then the black tattoos, one by one, covering up marks, I got you, let’s go to the beach today, cascade the white frames over each other so they held nothing but black squares with dates printed on the back.

People can get tattoos for art.

He got them to cover up how many times he shot up.

You smacked your palms down on the floor and the torrent came, rain splattering down on black squares, a hurricane of emotions, remembering the last time you spoke to him was plexiglass between you with a grungy olive handheld phone and him telling you then when he got out that you two would go to the beach again.

“I believed him…”

You almost slid to the floor again but Yoongi held onto your arm, pale fingers straining from your weight that was more than just mass times the acceleration of gravity, the weight of the end, the weight of the mess, the weight of hate, because you hated that you still believed in that opening sequence, that you could replay it and had hope that maybe this time it would be beautiful.

He lowered, his other hand fitting onto your shoulder, holding up shaking shoulders that threatened to collapse.

“It’s okay to believe the best in people,” Yoongi murmured softly.

I love you, darling.

Slowly, sweeping the black squares together with your wet hands, taking moments to wipe the little rain from your eyes with the backs of your hands, listening to a laugh you no longer heard, fleeting arguments that seemed so far away, the pile up of little secrets that became a big secret, not noticing the world that was so clear and colorful becoming a blur of monochrome.

Give me one more chance.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” you choked out.

What was worse, the lying, the drug habit, or the play-pretend that everything was okay when you knew better than anyone that it wasn’t? Or was it staying right until the police came and took him away, trying to convince them that he was a good guy, that there was no way he was involved in that kind of stuff, when you knew full well that he was, lying and pretending that you knew nothing, which only incriminated him further and left you guiltless in the eyes of the law?

Or was it the guilt?

He had smiled at you anyway, telling you that you two could still go to the beach and watch the ocean together.

“You sold cocaine to a bunch of teenagers,” you said into the phone receiver, scratchy and dying.

His smile had faltered. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve caused you trouble.”

The eyes of Min Yoongi’s childhood best friend looked into yours and he probably promised Yoongi countless things, like making music with him and performing together, but he did none of that because now he was behind bars.

“You’ll be okay,” he said to you.

Notwe.

You.

That was when you knew it was dead.

The opening sequence ran through your head,. The bump on the street, the gasp and spilling of coffee, looking up and sighing exasperatedly into a smile that you told you would love until the end of the world, and that was so, so cliché to ever believe in.

“Come on, let’s get up. Leave it.”

You left it on the floor, the rain and the memories.

“Here.”

He handed you soft tissues, clearly unfolded from his pocket, the kind that came in convenient plastic packs. Layered them for you, placed them in your hand.

You almost fell to the floor again.

You belonged with the tragedy.

Yoongi gripped your upper arms, holding you up.

“I hate him,” he said to your hair. “And I miss him. I should have stopped him. I should have done something.”

You shoved the tissues into your eyes.

Yoongi placed his chin on your forehead and sighed softly, shuddering as your felt the little rain soak the tissues, replaying the opening sequence over and over again, and if you just made different choices, if you just contact Yoongi and asked for help, if you and him had done something different, would they still be friends and would you still be whole, not zero, but one?

And the worst was knowing the answer was probably no.

-

far to go. drabble series

01 opening sequence — myg
03 trust fund baby — ksj
04 lonely boy (the tattoo on my ring finger) — kth, ft pjm
05 thursday’s child has far to go — knj, ft jhs
02 good boy gone bad — jjk, ft myg (collar!AU)

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drabbles masterpost | masterpost

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