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mrworldwideshoulders · 1 year

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give me novacaine || reader x myg

Lost and spiraling, Yoongi can’t stop himself from thinking about what he could have done differently to keep from losing you - if he'd been a better man, if he'd spent more time with you, if he'd been more affectionate, maybe he would have known sooner…and maybe he could have kept you from betraying him. Inspired by When I Was Your Man by Bruno Mars.

Pairing: reader x MYG (if you can call it that); feat. JK and Hobi Word count: 5.6k Rating: M / R (18+) Genre: angst, breakup au Warnings: descriptions of cuts, blood, and broken glass, (extremely) foul language, hobi being an angel as usual, jk being kind of a badass A/N: hey there and welcome! this is the sequel to my fic bang bang (shameless plug) so i would definitely recommend reading that one first because you will probably be a bit confused if you don’t :) actually really enjoyed writing this one, so i hope you enjoy reading it just as much. beta’d and bannered as always by the amazing april (@onmypillow-onmytable)! thx! ly - robyn P.S. I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars (lol), they just inspire me.

part of the unorthodox jukebox collection (masterlist)

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” A soft touch on Yoongi’s cheek draws him out of his slumber and back into real life.

“Hmm,” he grumbles, reluctantly opening his eyes to find you next to him, smiling gently, pale morning sunlight illuminating you from behind like a halo. “You couldn’t let me sleep a few minutes longer?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you say. “I like seeing you right when you wake up, all grumpy and half-asleep. Like a cat.”

Yoongi can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I’ll get you for that.” He reaches out a hand to pull you toward him, bringing your face mere inches away from his.

“Good morning,” you say softly, staring into his eyes.

“Good morning.” He presses his forehead against yours.

“I was just thinking…” You hesitate. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Min Yoongi.”

“Oh? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

You lean in suddenly, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. “A good thing, of course. A very good thing.”

A crack of thunder sounds, jolting Yoongi awake. Rain beats against the full picture windows, fat drops streaming down like tears. He blinks, the insides of his eyelids feeling like full-grit sandpaper scraping against his corneas.

He wasn’t dead.

He was still very much alive. And on top of that, still dreaming about you, even though you were gone and every part of him that had once held love was filled with his hatred of you, his empty apartment still echoing with the sounds of your betrayal.

How unfortunate. Especially the part where he was still alive.

He sits up slowly, peeling the side of his face from the leather couch, and his head throbs so sharply and violently that his vision clouds. “Fucking hell,” Yoongi mutters, fingers digging into his pulsing temples, as if that would solve anything. He takes a glance around the room. The place is a mess. He struggles to his feet, swaying unsteadily as his vision starts to swim again. It’s dark still but just light enough to indicate that morning is on its way, ready to remind him that he’d been just stupid and just desperate enough to be taken in by your ruse. Something crunches underfoot as he’s feeling his way out of the room. He reaches down, feeling blindly for the source of the noise, and a sharp stabbing pain pierces into the soft, fleshy part of his hand. “Shit!” he snaps. It’s glass. Of fucking course it’s glass. The remnants of a whiskey bottle lay in pieces on the floor, and he remembered now, that he’d thrown it at the wall last night. Blood pools in the dip of his palm, the cut apparently deeper than it felt. “Perfect,” he says under his breath. “Just perfect.”

The water in the sink runs red for what feels like forever, but it finally stops long enough for him to disinfect it and wrap it in a swath of gauze and medical tape. The wrapping is sloppy, but it’ll keep everything in place for as long as it needs to. He’s struck suddenly by another memory.

“Ah, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. That hurts!” You’re supposed to be chopping vegetables for stir fry, but he looks over to see you gritting your teeth, a bloodstained dish towel wrapped around your hand.

“Let me see.” Yoongi reaches for the towel, but you nearly yank your hand away from him.

“No! I can’t.”

“Why not?” He reaches for it again.

“I’m afraid to look.” You squeeze your eyes shut while he unwraps the towel from your hand. Blood still oozes from a small but seemingly deep cut on your middle finger. “My finger is still there, right?”

“What finger? I don’t see a finger.”

Your eyes shoot open. “Yoongi! Come on.”

“Made you look.” He grins, pulling you over to the sink. “It’s just a little cut. Here, rinse it off first, and I’ll bandage it up for you.” You wait silently, wincing slightly as he dabs disinfectant on the cut. He wraps the bandage securely but not too tightly around your finger. “There.” Yoongi lifts your hand and kisses it gently. “Better?”

“Much,” you manage, cheeks coloring.

Could he have done more? He knows he should have – definitely could have – been better. On one hand, he’d tried, hadn’t he? He’d tried to be gentle and attentive, to go against all of his past experiences with women and relationships; his mother, for one, and her incessant stream of boyfriends, an array of different faces that were all the same, faces who would all sneer at him on his way out of the house and tell him to straighten up and respect his mother. He’d ended up something like her anyway, for a time, an near-ceaseless series of one night stands and unattached partners filtering in and out of his apartment for a good part of his early twenties – but that was different. You were different. He hadn't ever loved any of them the way he loved you. He'd tried to never let you see the side of him that could be angry and sometimes violent. On the other hand – he should have known better. It wasn’t like you were his first anything. He should have known that some women wanted more than just your time. They wanted to be doted upon, made to feel special, surprised with the occasional gift or dinner out on a random Tuesday – and he hadn’t done a very good job of that. He wasn’t good at giving gifts, unlike Hoseok, who somehow seemed to be able to intuit the perfect gift for someone within minutes. He hadn’t ever gotten the impression any of that was something you wanted, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted, either. He hated those types of little grand gestures. They were sappy. Cringe-inducing. Unoriginal. All qualities he’d never considered himself to possess.

Was that really all it would have taken for you not to stab him in the back? A surprise date at the nicest restaurant in the city? Could a bouquet of flowers on a random Wednesday make you call it off with every other guy you were seeing? There was no way it could be that simple, could it? If it was, then maybe all of his teachers were right, and he really was the biggest idiot in South Korea, if he hadn't managed to figure that one out. Yoongi closes his eyes and lets out a short laugh, his bandaged hand still humming with pain. “I really must be a dumbass, huh, y/n?” he mutters. “Stupidest motherfucker on the planet. Is that what you wanted? Fucking flowers?”

He checks the time on his watch. Quarter to six. Too late to go back to bed and too early to go to work. Not even go-getter Jungkook shows up to work that early, and despite being in charge Yoongi is never there before eight or nine unless he has to be. Well, someone has to clean up the glass in the front room, and he can’t show up for work still reeking of whiskey. Jungkook does pretty much nothing but eat and work out in his spare time; he’ll throw Yoongi over one shoulder like a sack of flour and carry him back home to sleep it off if he so much as catches a whiff, so a shower is in order before he can go anywhere. It may not be much but he’s got to do something to keep his mind off you and all of the little things he did wrong.

The shower does little to improve his mood or his raging headache, but the show must go on, as they say, and he forces himself out the door shortly after eight. As glad as he is to have you and your lies out of his life, he has to admit his apartment feels empty without you, silent in a way that it hasn’t felt since the first time he invited you over. Once he’s at work he quickly sequesters himself in his office, the door shut firmly behind him, and an hour or so in only confirms what he knows already but doesn’t want to acknowledge: he’s not going to be getting much of anything done today. The rain is still beating a lull against his windows, the task at hand is long forgotten, and a nap is sounding more and more appealing by the second. His mind is already starting to drift, eyelids dropping shut like window shades.

There’s a quick rap at the door, and whoever is out there doesn’t even wait for a response before it opens. “Yoongi-ssi?” Jungkook's looming figure hovers tentatively in the doorway.

“Hm?” Yoongi barely lifts his head from where it’s propped on his good hand. “What, Jungkook?” He can’t even muster up the energy to bark at Jungkook like he usually does when he hesitates a second too long; he can only turn his head slightly and squint in the younger man’s direction.

“Is…everything okay?” Jungkook says finally, stepping further inside. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks for that,” mutters Yoongi, eyes still half-closed. “I’m fine. Go away.”

Jungkook ignores him. “You really don’t look so good, Yoongi. Are you sure you should be here right now?”

“I said I’m fine,” he snaps, wincing as a sharp pain shoots through his head. “Don’t you have work to be doing?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“So get out of my office and go do it, then.” Yoongi scowls. “I’m not paying you for your company.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, eyebrows pinching in concern, “but, you know, I would understand if you wanted to take the rest of the day. We don’t really have a lot going on at the moment, just a couple of small cases. I can take care of things for a day or two. That’s kinda why you hired me, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” Yoongi lets out a heated sigh. “What I want is for you to leave me alone. Please,” he adds as an afterthought. “Just go away.”

Jungkook doesn’t budge, instead staying firmly rooted in front of the desk. “What happened, hyung?”

Yoongi doesn’t speak right away, knowing exactly what Jungkook is asking. “It’s over,” he murmurs. “She’s gone. That’s all you need to know. I don’t want to talk about it.” No need to tell him how you tried to defend yourself, even with the photographic evidence right in front of you, or any of the horrible things you both said to each other, or about the deafening silence that fell after you stormed out, the long night of beating himself up over every little regret that followed and trying to drown out the voices in his head.

He eyes Yoongi skeptically, gaze twitching from his face to his bandaged hand. “You didn’t do anything…crazy, did you?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles, shoving the injured hand under his desk. “Y/n L/n is still out there walking around on her own two hooves, I promise. Jesus, Kook, who do you think I am, huh? I may be impulsive but I’m not stupid enough to kill anyone.”

“Then…what did you do to your hand?”

“Broke a bottle. Sliced my hand open while I was trying to clean it up. Any more questions, or can we move on? I’m really not in the mood for this.”

“No, I guess not,” Jungkook says quietly, dropping his head to avoid eye contact. “I’m sorry. I know how you felt about her, but…it’s for the best.”

A rush of anger floods through him. No, you don’t. You don’t know how I felt. You don’t know what it’s like at all. Being unwanted, everyone, yourself included, wishing you would just disappear, then thinking finally, here’s someone who accepts you, someone who loves you, despite every bad thing you’ve ever done, only to have it all blow up in your face because she never loved you, she was only stringing you along for her own amusement. It’s mortifying. You don’t know anything. And I hope to God you never do. I hope you stay blissfully ignorant of the way real pain and heartbreak feels, because it’ll make you want to crawl into a hole and die. He doesn’t say any of what he’s thinking and simply shrugs. “What’s done is done. Like I said, I don’t really want to talk about it. Let’s get to work, huh?”

“Yeah. For sure.” Jungkook turns to leave, then hesitates. “She wasn’t a good person, Yoongi. I wouldn’t lose too much time thinking about her. There’ll be someone else one day. Someone who’ll be a better match for you than she ever was. I guarantee it.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi says, though it isn’t. “I’m already past it. Just go, okay? Close the door on your way out.” What is it with Jungkook and making promises he can’t keep? That’s his problem right there, guaranteeing this and that and hoping for the best when the only thing anyone’s guaranteed in life is death. For all Jungkook knows Yoongi is destined to die alone, just like you said, and even that would be more than he could have hoped for. Maybe you’re right, and no one will ever love him but you, not that you had ever really loved him anyway. He knows he’s hard to love: stubborn, ornery, a little too private for most people's liking. Spend most of your life getting knocked around the way he has and it's no wonder no one wants anything to do with him. He's damaged goods, after all. Scratches and dings everywhere. Too much baggage for even the most sainted person to deal with. Maybe he is better off alone. It’s lonely, but no one gets hurt that way. Hearts stay guarded, hearts stay intact. Is that the secret?

Almost as soon as Jungkook leaves, his phone vibrates on his desk. His number is private, which means it can only be one person. He sighs and allows the call through. “Yeah?”

"Yoongi-ah!" Hoseok's exuberantly cheerful voice breaks through the speakers. Yoongi has always wondered how one person can be in such good spirits all the time. "I'm glad I caught you. I was wondering, did you mean to call me last night?"

"No," says Yoongi. "Just an accident. Sorry.” What he doesn't know won't hurt him.

"Huh. Okay." Now he sounds skeptical. He can almost see Hoseok’s face pursing into a frown. “Because I could have sworn I heard—”

“It was nothing, Hobi,” he says firmly. “I was drinking and I must have bumped your number or something. That’s all.”

“Drinking on a weeknight? Is everything okay?”

Damn it. Why does Hoseok have to know him so well? “Everything’s fine. Had a rough day at work yesterday. You know how it is.” Hoseok doesn’t know exactly what it is he does for a living, but he has some idea.

“Well…okay.” He can tell his friend still doesn’t believe him. “I guess I was imagining things. But, you know you can always talk to me, right? If there’s ever something you want to talk to me about. I’m here to listen.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Yoongi swallows hard, the words sticking in his throat.

Hoseok continues. "Anyway, while I’ve got you, I was going to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner sometime. It's been forever. Hyorin and I would love to see you. And when are you going to come see your godson? Junho has grown so much, you’d barely recognize him if you saw him.” Junho is what, six months old now? Hoseok and Hyorin had insisted on making him Junho’s godfather when he was born, despite Yoongi’s protests, saying there was no one better for the job than him. “Bring y/n with you. We’ve been dying to meet her. And I have to see for myself the woman who managed to crack through that tough outer shell of yours so quickly.” Hoseok likes to claim that it took a year’s worth of his mother’s lunches for Yoongi to crack even slightly, while for you it only took a matter of months to get right to the heart of things.

His words stab at Yoongi's chest like knives. “Uh…yeah. We’ll have to get together sometime.” Coward. The word floats in front of his eyes again, the same way it did last night when he hung up instead of talking to Hoseok. What kind of coward are you that you can’t even tell your best friend that it’s over, that she’s gone, that she played you for a fool? How long are you going to go on dodging him and letting him think everything is fine when it’s not? “About that,” says Yoongi. “Y/n and I – we broke up. Yesterday.”

“What?” Yoongi can tell Hoseok is genuinely floored by this. “Are you — really? What happened? Didn’t you say you were about to ask her to move in with you? Officially?”

Yoongi chuckles bitterly. “We discovered some, uh, irreconcilable differences. And she cheated on me. With multiple people.”

"Yoongi..." Hoseok sighs. "I'm sorry. I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known. You doing okay?"

“Oh, I'm fine,” Yoongi says dismissively. "I'll get through it, I always do. You know me. Anyway, better to have that all out in the open now than later, right?” He can’t even force himself to imagine what it would be like if they’d been married. At least ten times worse, probably. Would he have ever even wanted to be married to you? He’d barely even begun to think about the possibility, to picture what it would be like to have you as his wife, to start a family with you. A happy little family, something he’d never had before. The very idea repulses him now.

“You don’t have to hide it, you know.” Hoseok seems to know something he isn’t letting on. “It’s okay to be upset. That was a shitty thing for her to do. It’s a shitty thing for anyone to do. You wouldn’t be the only one to—”

“Aish, seriously, I’m fine.” Yoongi rubs at his forehead in frustration, unwilling to admit that Hoseok is absolutely right. “I knew it was all going to come to an end sooner or later. Everything does for me. It just came sooner than I expected.”

Hoseok pauses momentarily, and for a second Yoongi wonders if maybe he’s gone too dark on him. ”Listen, why don’t you come over tonight instead?” Hoseok says finally. “Hyorin is making dakgalbi. I know it’s your favorite, and she always makes enough to feed the entire military. You should come. We can catch up. What do you think?”

Yoongi lets out a humorless laugh. “Your wife, who likes me for some reason, just so happens to be making dakgalbi the day after I find out my girlfriend has been cheating on me for the better part of our relationship? Almost sounds too good to be true.” Just as it had been for someone like you to have any real interest in him at all. Too good to be true.

“It must be fate then.” He pictures Hoseok shrugging. “And you shouldn’t argue with fate, right?”

“Thanks, but I think I’ll take my chances. I’ve managed so far, haven’t I?” Managed to screw everything up and drive everyone who matters away from you, he thinks. “I don’t think I’d be very good company right now, anyway.”

“Okay, well, if you won’t come over for dinner, I’ll bring you leftovers tomorrow. How about that?” Hoseok is just the same as he’s always been: trying to take care of Yoongi when it should really be the other way around. He must have had such a glowing, happy childhood to end up this kind and caring as an adult. How had a fuckup like Yoongi ever managed to become friends with someone as pure as Hoseok?

“Fine,” he relents. “You do that. But call first, okay?”

“Of course.” Voices sound behind him on the other end of the line. “Listen, I’ve got to go now, but we’ll talk tomorrow, all right? And Yoongi?”

“What?”

“It’s not your fault. I know it hurts right now, but she chose to cheat all on her own. You didn’t make her do it. So cut yourself some slack, okay? Someday it’ll all work out.” Why does everyone keep trying to tell him that? It’s all just empty platitudes anyway. Nothing works out for him. It never has. In fact, it’s surprising that his own company hasn’t crashed and burned yet.

He hears your scornful voice in his ears again. If you’d paid more attention to me, you would have figured it out sooner. You don’t care. You never cared. Would Hoseok still be saying that if he knew the whole story about what I was doing back then? Yoongi wonders. Would he still choose to see only the good in me? Would he still be willing to call me his friend? Godfather to his firstborn child? Anything at all? “Yeah, right. I’m sure. Thanks anyway.”

“I’m your best friend. It’s what I’m here for.” Hoseok hangs up.“You’re my only friend,” mutters Yoongi dryly, long after the line has gone dead.

He should not be doing this. Not today. But he’d insisted to Jungkook that he was fine, and being fine meant leaving the office for a few hours to do some surveillance for a case they were working. It wasn’t as if Jungkook had forced him; if anything he’d basically told him that he could handle it on his own, as he’d been saying all morning, but that it was easier for two people than one, just in case anything happened. Yoongi had decided to come anyway, his headache having tapered off some, and the distraction would – hopefully – keep his mind off everything, namely you. He was beginning to regret that decision, almost as soon as he’d made it. The rain still hadn’t let up, and the guy they were supposed to be tailing hadn’t moved from his table at the cafe where he’d been sitting for the past forty-five minutes. It was hard to believe that the client thought that this guy was even a threat to their personal safety – but a job was a job, and a paranoid client with deep pockets was better than no client at all.

How things had changed in the past ten years of his life. Ten years ago he was still pickpocketing people like his client, on top of working long, miserable hours in the kitchen of some god-awful restaurant, having to scrape just to put food in his mouth and pay the rent on his tiny shithole of an apartment. Of course his mother had been no help; she’d been the one to kick him out in the first place, claiming she’d already done her duty by allowing him to live rent-free under her roof for nineteen years, as if he were just some freeloading roommate and not her son. Yoongi’s thievery had started innocently enough, as innocent as lifting wallets off unsuspecting people could be. A means to an end. That was all it was ever supposed to be, a way to supplement his measly paycheck when things were tight. Then the wrong people had taken notice of his talents, turning it into something far bigger and far darker than he had ever intended for it to be, and sending him hurtling down a path he’d never wanted to venture down, but found himself unable to stop until it was almost too late. Was it his fault, then, that things had ended up this way? All of his past transgressions, everything he’d done and regretted now, falling in love with someone who would never truly be his in any capacity - had all of that been preordained the moment he lifted that first wallet in Gangnam Station? Yoongi was starting to think you might be right, that no matter how much good he did, no matter how many people he protected and thefts he prevented, he would always remain the same on the inside. He could put on an expensive suit and cut his hair and act like he was doing it all for the greater good, but deep down he’d always know it was just that: an act. He was, in the purest sense of the word, a fraud. Just as you had said. A fraud, a liar, and a thief.

What if you did decide to go back on your word? What if you told everyone – his clients, his colleagues, his friends – about how he’d gotten to be where he was? Would it make any difference? He’d threatened to reveal it himself – but would he? Could he allow everything he’d so carefully built to come crumbling down like a house of cards? If any of that happened he would be right back where he started ten years ago. Alone. Hoseok probably wouldn’t want anything to do with him if he knew what Yoongi had done to get by, certainly wouldn’t want him anywhere near his wife and son. Jungkook, perhaps, could be counted on to stick around, but Yoongi wasn’t holding his breath. Maybe that would be a good thing. No more secrets. No more lies. No friends or associates. A fresh start.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jungkook’s voice crackled in his earpiece, startling him back into reality. “Status report?”

Yoongi glanced up at the man’s table, which was currently being bussed – because it was empty. “Fuck!” he swore under his breath, hurrying out onto the street.

“Something happen?” says Jungkook.

Yoongi sighs angrily. “Something happened, all right. I lost him, Kook.” The guy might not have been dangerous, but he’d walked away right in front of him – and Yoongi hadn’t even noticed because he was lost in his head, daydreaming about the past. How stupid did he have to be to let that happen? “He was there two minutes ago, I swear.”

“Shit,” he hears Jungkook mutter. “Well, he’s on foot, he can’t have gotten far. I’m in the area. Let me see what I can do.” Jungkook goes silent.

Yoongi paces on the sidewalk, unsure what to do with himself. He’s never lost a tail before, not like this. Not even someone trying to lose themselves in a crowd could shake him off. He’s useless. Especially today. The rain pours, pelting painfully against his skin.

Pathetic, sneers your voice in his head again. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.

“Got him.” His colleague’s triumphant voice finally breaks through after what seems like an eternity. “Headed for the subway station. We’ll probably lose contact once I’m underground, so I’ll touch base once I’m topside again.”

He used to wonder where Jungkook would be without him – probably still working for the gangster his father owed money to, still under the guise that he’d be dismissed whenever the debt was paid – but now Yoongi wonders where he’d be without Jungkook. The kid is too good for this business, he thinks, and should really be doing something more honorable with his skills. Police work, maybe, or working in intelligence, not private security. Something entirely unrelated, even. He’s far too talented to waste his life working for someone like Yoongi. “Good.” He exhales a sigh of relief, pinching at the space between his eyes. “Stay on him.” Jungkook doesn’t need him, not anymore. Maybe he never did. Maybe that was just something he’d always told himself to make himself feel better about essentially hijacking the trajectory of Jungkook’s life. “You going to be alright if I head home? I don’t think I’m going to be much use here.”

“I’ll be fine, but…” Jungkook sounds like he wants to say something else but holds back. “Okay. Have a good night, boss. I’ll update you when I get back to the office.”

“Thanks.” says Yoongi gruffly. “And…I’m sorry.”

"Don't worry about it," says Jungkook. "I've been telling you to go home all day. Go on, I've got this covered."

Yoongi chuckles wryly before he pulls his earpiece out. Home. That might be the last place on earth he wants to be right now. But where else is he going to go?

It’s been a long day. A very long day. One with a lot of thinking, and still more to go. The front room is back in order and dark shadows are beginning to fall around him as the rainy afternoon gradually fades into night. He's staring out at the city skyline, lights blinking on one by one like stars, contemplating his next move when his phone vibrates. Jungkook, presumably with an update on today's subject. "Nothing too interesting to report. You were right, the guy’s harmless."

"Hah," Yoongi scoffs. "I wouldn't take my word for it."

"I'll keep an eye on him," says Jungkook, "and let you know if anything else comes up."

"Sounds good." Yoongi hesitates. "Listen, Jungkook…about earlier. I'm thinking about taking some time off work. Do you think you could handle things for a while?"

"Of course I can. But how long is a while?"

"I don’t know. Indefinitely?" The line goes silent and Yoongi is momentarily afraid that he's lost him. "Kook, you still there?"

"Yeah. Still here." Jungkook sounds stunned. "I was trying to figure out if you just said what I think you just said. You said indefinitely, right?"

"As in, I'm not sure when I'll be back? No, you heard me right."

"Well…why?" He pictures the puzzled look on Jungkook’s face, eyes widening, eyebrows scooting together in confusion.

Yoongi lets out a sigh and stares down, examining the bandage on his hand. “Got some things to sort out. I’m not sure that I can trust myself right now, and I don’t think I should be doing this when I can’t even trust my own judgment. It’s risky for all of us. Someone could get hurt.” That’s all he wants. Just once in his life, for people to stop getting hurt because of him.

“Right. I understand that, and I recognize what you’re doing, but Yoongi, you know what you’re asking, don’t you? A couple of days is one thing, but I have no idea how to run things for that long. Especially when I don’t know when you’ll be back. You know I don’t mind doing it, it’s just…a really big ask.”

“I’ll be back, Jungkook. It’s not like I won’t.” Yoongi chuckles. “You’re the only one that’s qualified. And you’re the only one I trust to do this. I can trust you, right?” The question is almost rhetorical. The kid has more than proven himself in the whole time he’s known him.

He hears Jungkook take a deep breath. “Of course. You can count on me, hyung. I’ve got this.”

“That’s good to hear.” Yoongi does feel bad about leaving it all on Jungkook to pick up the slack, but he knows he can handle it. Things will be just fine without him, at least for a while. Everything always has been. Black Swan might even be better off with Jungkook at the helm instead of him. “I’m sorry for dropping this on you at the last minute.”

“Please,” Jungkook scoffs. “I told you, I’ve got this.” His voice changes, growing softer, less brash. “So…what will you do while you’re gone?”

“Hm. Not sure yet.” Yoongi smiles faintly. “You know, I’ve never really been on a vacation. Maybe I’ll leave the city, go somewhere sunny. Tropical and warm. Maybe the mountains.”

“That’ll be nice.” There’s a beat of silence. “So…this is it, then,” Jungkook says. “You’re really going.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now, Kook,” says Yoongi briskly. “I’m your boss. We’re not really friends, are we?” They’re not friends, not just colleagues. They’re partners. Is that really any different?

“Yeah. Sorry. Well, good luck, boss. I’ll be here, as long as you need me to be. I hope you get everything figured out.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi heaves another sigh. “Me too. Goodbye, Jungkook. I’ll be in touch.” He hangs up before Jungkook can get any sappier on him and stares down at his hands again. He’ll leave town, maybe in a few days or so, go somewhere far away and stay there until it feels right to come back. But there’s one last thing he has to do tonight before he can go anywhere.

The door in front of him swings open, and the savory smell of stir-fried chicken wafts out. “Yoongi?” Hoseok looks him up and down, taking in Yoongi’s rain-soaked appearance. “What are you – did you walk here? It’s pouring out. You’ll get sick.” Same old Hoseok, the mother he never had.

“Hobi,” he says, ignoring his friend’s fussing. “Sorry I didn’t call first, but I was in the neighborhood and I got to wondering…does that dinner invitation still stand?”

“Always, but…” Hoseok falters. “I thought you said—”

“You know I can’t resist free food.” Yoongi smirks. “And…” He hesitates. His past is dark, littered with thorns and broken glass, winding paths to hell built upon good intentions. He can’t change that. But he can change his present – his future, too. And it starts with being honest with the people around him, whatever the fallout may be. No more secrets. No more lies. Especially to the people he cares about. “I decided I could really use someone to talk to.”

“Okay, well – get in here, then.” Hoseok pulls him inside, where it’s warm and bright and filled with life. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Things will be better without you. Not now, but eventually. Maybe someday it will all work out like everyone keeps trying to tell him. Maybe there is still happiness to be found in this life.

#mrworldwideshoulders #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts angst #bts series #bts x reader #bts au #reader x yoongi #reader x suga #reader x min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x reader #breakup au #bts x you

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itstheimpossibledream · 1 year

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Protector

Pairing: Suga x you

Genere: Smut, Established relationship

Summary: Yoongi doesn't want to take your relationship public, he's comfortable hiding and knows he wouldn't be able to protect you from the media. Idk why I'm addicted to a sad story. It's my first BTS fic Army be nice.

“Yoon-gi! I am tired of your shit !” your voice is low and steady.

“And I am not tired of you ?” he stared at you coldly.

“Cool," you take a step back from him, almost disgusted by how detached he was being “I’ll get my shit then.” you brush past him into your room,dragging your suitcase out of the back of the closet. A place that had been it’s home for the last three years. You wield it over your small shoulder and onto the end of the bed,as you watched him close the door to your room. He takes his time , until the door clicks, turning back around to you.

“I’m not trying to offend you, I just don’t understand why it’s so important to you I-”

“Because if this is real” you cut him off “If this is something, we have to try it in the daylight,we have to try the real world. And if we don’t make it ,we don’t make it but we try-”

“You are so frustrating -” he rolls his eyes.

“And you are so comfortable being alone.” you can tell that comment cut him. And as much as you hated yourself for it you were glad you could hurt him as much as he had hurt you.

“Ack-” he waves his hand at you.

“No, listen to me .” you rush towards him and he moves around you. Swiftly switching positions and pinning your back against the bedroom door.

You are caught in his eyes, in his love for you, his want to keep you safe and the reality of the fact that he is right. Going public meant sharing you with more than just his friends and family.

“Going public means when we have fights like this, they take pictures.” he bit his bottom lip in uncertainty “When we hurt, the world sees that .When we’re happy they see that too, but is that worth how you will be hunted by sasaeng.When I have a kid, he won’t be able to play at the park, to be normal. He deserves that .”

“So you want to keep your family, your life ,everything entirely secret?” you whisper

“I want you-” He whispers back leaning into you “ I just don’t want anything but us to ruin us.”

You can’t help but lean in and kiss him after that. His hand comes to cup the side of your face. His hips rock into you and before you realize your hands are tugging at the hem of his shirt while he works under your skirt, up your thighs to pull down your panties. This was the fire you had; just unending passion, connection,like fissures linking and touching every corner of your body, inspiring it to seek more of him. You step out of your underwear and he slides the warmth of his palms up your calves, the back of your legs becoming alight with his touch.

“Yoon-”you protest as he rolls up your body.

“Shhh.” he whispers through a lazy smile, kissing you again. Your hands are at his belt buckle, pulling at the loops.

“Fuck that.” he mumbles,forcing his pants downwards, shimmying out of the denim.He wraps his arms under your hips ,lifting you and holding you up against the door. His voice was low and he let out a growl as he rolled his crotch into yours again. That elicited a short high pitched moan from you which he must have liked because he pulled back and smiled at you before placing a hand at your throat and doing it again. He takes his other hand to your core and begins rubbing you slow and controlled. “Is this what you want?” he asks , and it’s hard for you to have clarity on if he’s looking for a response to your conversation earlier or an answer for if you do or don’t want sex. Because you always wanted sex,especially with him; which he knew. Making that just seem like an unnecessary additive. “Mmmm I can’t wait to be inside you” he purrs, lifting your hips and angling himself at your opening. It didn’t matter that you had just argued, it didn’t matter that he couldn’t change. Your body ached for him.

“Please…please” you found yourself whispering. Begging for what you were unsure but, he understood you, he knew what you needed. He fucked into you at a painstakingly slow rate, relishing in your array of faces pre orgasm. He is a man of many talents and he wasn’t usually rough with you. But this slow, subtle domination was a talent even you didn’t know he had. He held eye contact with you as he pulled himself in and out of your warm hole, time passed slower. The sound of your moans and his breath were music to your ears, peppered by his occasional praises of how good you are at a low whisper in your ear. You feel yourself nearing your climax and you dig your fingernails into his shoulder while crying out. He kisses the vanes in your throat as you throw your head back, using the kisses to break up the phrases of praise towards you. He tells you how good you are for cumming for him and you can tell he’s getting excited by his own words as he rocks faster inside you. His last few pushes are rough and you hold onto him so you don’t slide down the wall yourself. You feel him shoot into you and you can’t help but smile, taking stock of his face a bit flushed, hair damp and sticking to his forehead, eyes heavily lidded in pure bliss. You hold each other there for a minute,enjoying the contact,breathing heavily in unison. Your lips part and you’re overcome with comfort in that contorted position, against the door for a while. Eventually you are able to peel your bodies apart from each other and you look up at him suddenly aware of your nakedness. “ I may not be as figured out as you Yoongi but, I don’t want to be with someone who won’t claim me.” You look up at him sadly. The rose colored glasses were gone. His hand brushes down your arm and moves to hold your hand. This time instead of holding his, you take a step back from him. You snatch your clothes from the corner of the floor they had occupied and get dressed. He’s quiet as you move towards the bed,you slowly zip your suitcase and roll to the door. You extend a hand to press the elevator button of his penthouse“Don’t choose this.” he says quietly. He has sweatpants on, and somehow an incredibly solemn face while shirtless sitting on the arm of his couch. “You think I want this?” you pull your jacket over your shoulders. The door dings open and he crosses his arms across his chest. “For the record, I always would have picked you.” you smile, trying to rush into the elevator before you feel your tears hit your cheek. He stares at you but doesn’t respond. It’s clear there’s nothing more to say. His gaze runs over your entire body, as though he’s trying to burn a memory of you into his brain.

“Bye Min Yoongi” you say, jabbing your finger into the door close button but it can’t close fast enough.

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