#engineering #computer Science #yuck

#engineering #computer science #yuck

okay besties everyone put in their tags what theyre majoring or what they majored in im so curious

"Why do you care so much about accidentally leaving people out?" Because I've had friend groups where they were the planets and I was their Pluto.

I've had friend groups where our dynamics revolved around a Sun, with everyone vying for their attention if only to bask in their light for a mere moment. Where our thinly strung bonds collapsed the second our Sun left.

I've had friend groups where they bonded as Saturn's rings, finding solace in their shared shortcomings while isolating those more talented than them.

But I've also had friend groups where we bond as Neptune and Uranus—so similar we could be known as twins. Friend groups like Venus and Earth: so awfully different, yet it was those differences that kept us together.

And I would rather create a social system like the latter than the former.

*and the plot thickens* not me being happy with y/n's suffering lol

Brushes And Beats chapter 12

pairing: JiminxReader

genre: fluff with a pinch of angst

trope: enemies to lovers

:embarassment who?:

Y/n's Pov

Will you believe me if I tell you that I sprinted across the cafeteria away from Jimin as if my life depended on it?

Well, that's exactly what I did

I had never felt this level of panic and embarrassment before!!

I could feel my face turning into a fierce shade of crimson while I weaved across the tables on my way to the nearest exit.

WHY DID HE OPEN THE ENVELOPE

WHO OPENS AN ENVELOPE WITH A FLOWER

TALK ABOUT PRIVACY

In the midst of my embarrassment, I couldn't help but admire Jimin's determination to find out who had sent me flowers. Why is he so persistent?! I need to hide, I NEED TO HIDE

I darted to the nearest bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls, desperately trying to catch my breath and calm my racing heart. I sat on the toilet sit with my head on my hands as I tried to come up with a plan to avoid Jimin and salvage the remains of my dignity "Come on, Y/n" I murmured to myself. "I should have taken it out" banging my head on my hands "This is so embarrassing" my fingers racked through my hair "I'll just say that I bought it with his money and it's just my name on it, not a big deal" a fake cry left my mouth, I CAN'T THINK.

knock knock

My heart jumped at the sound, my eyes widened, Oh no! Not now, I recognize these shoes

The guy just didn't know when to give up! In an attempt to regain my composure and come up with a plan, I took a deep breath and counted to three before opening the door.

"Hey there," I said in what I hoped was a casual tone, but my voice came out sounding more high-pitched than usual.

There stood Jimin with an 'innocent look' on his face, what a devil, "Hello there good to see you again, inside the boys' washroom" a sly grin appeared on his face. "I should take my leave" hunching my shoulder slightly trying to put some distance, not that he was super close but his presence alone felt heavy.

"Ok bye" I muttered as I tried to quickly slip past him and make my escape. But Jimin wasn't about to let me off the hook that easily. As I reached for the door, my way was blocked by his outstretched arm, resting against the frame, but now he wasn't grinning anymore,

In the discomforting closeness of the washroom, Jimin looked at me with eyes heavy with complex sentiments. "You lied, you never had a date yesterday did you?" he asked, his voice just a whisper in the small space.

My mind sprinted as I tried to figure out my escape from this conversation and the emotions it was stirring within me. His closeness to me was making my body hum in a way I didn't want to examine at that moment. With a forced casualness, I answered, "No, I did, Fine the flower was not sent by him it was me, BUT I had a date."

He raised an eyebrow, doubting me again. Breaking the intense eye contact, I fumbled for my phone in my purse. A swift pull of the tiny device brought out a bunch of receipts, my lip gloss, and other tidbits I didn't need at that moment. Finally, my hands gripped around my phone. Quickly, I pulled up a picture from last night and extended my arm to show the photographic evidence to Jimin.

"What? Not my fault the deal you cooked had loopholes." I said evenly. He looked at the pictures and then met my eyes, a series of emotions crossing his face. "And I am sure that he can give me more than just a firework, I mean he already had the upper hand with height" Low-blow y/n low-blow "What is even more impressive is his sense of humor and the way he makes me laugh"

He towers above me, he may be shorter than other men but he was definitely way taller than me, causing me to crane my neck up to look him in the eye. His coal-dark eyes burned into mine with an intensity that seeped beneath my skin, I couldn't help but look up and traced his features with my eyes, soaking in the lush curve of his lips and the fine planes of his features.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

" Are you struggling to not start a fight again? " I huffed as I crossed my arms across my chest, " I thought we had a deal " he leans forward closing the gap between us, so close that I could feel his breath go down from my right ear to my neck " I'm trying to decide whether I should kiss you or strangle you, it's my daily struggle birdy ".

Did I want him to take me in his arms and kiss me senseless?

yes, yes I did,

 But I knew indulging in these complicated feelings will only lead to unwanted situations. Sweat coated my palms.

"I thought you were smart Birdy, I must be wrong" his voice laced with a mock as he leaned even closer, his lip mere inches away from mine

My heart is a vigorous drum in my chest, my blood electric in my veins. It was like he’d wanted to engrave his words in my mind, and he’d succeeded. My skin flushed hotter than it already was. His mouth curved into a tiny smirk as he stared at me.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to do something?” I asked in as bored a tone as I could muster. There could be anyone coming inside right now, and the last thing I need right now is a scandal instead of feeling scared and doing the right things I push him against the door and feel a thrill when I hear the thud of his weight against it.

“Kiss me,” I whisper and the air gets warmer.

I feel him pushing back and we found ourselves inside one of the toilet stalls, "I'm not going to kiss you Birdy" he continues "As per our deal, If your guy isn’t as good, you have to admit it to me. To my face. Verbally. Honestly. No sarcasm.” Every loophole is neatly closed.

“It’s weird you want me to.” I take a step back and almost knock over the tissue roll "I'm not gonna kiss you Birdy unless you tell me no one kisses you as I do" He adds one more caveat. “One last thing. You can kiss him only once” I couldn't believe the turn of events. My heart raced as I tried to process his words. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions as his words hung in the air. At that moment, it felt like time stood still. At that moment, I found myself torn between the desire to give in to my feelings for him and the realization that this was a dangerous game we were playing.

The air inside the small restroom stall felt heavy with tension as we stood there, our eyes locked in a silent battle of emotions. At that moment, I realized he had me wrapped around his finger, just as much as I wished to have him wrapped around mine.

to be continued...

chapter 11 || chapter 13

and the plot thickens

damnnnnnn the plot twist>>>

Latibule VI

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: never tell me I don’t love my readers when I’m here writing when I just got my heart broken hehehehe

Masterlist, Latibule V

You turned around when you heard a dull thump of mug hitting the wooden table, distracting you from looking at the stars. Suga was standing behind you with his own steaming cup of coffee, looking tiredly at you before taking a seat.

“Finally got him to sleep?”

He sighed before taking a sip from his coffee. He brushed his hair away from his face as he looked up at the stars. “Seriously, who needs bedtime stories in order to sleep?” He scoffed, remembering how Jackson insisted that he read him stories because, and he quoted, ‘Ahjussi has a deep, nice voice perfect for princes and monsters’.

See, he didn’t even know why he digressed, but that little child looked up at him expectantly that he found himself doing voices that made the child laughed. It was so out of character for him, the big, bad mafia. If his men saw him like that, they would surely thought he hit his head or something. Even he thought that he hit his head. Otherwise, why would he do all those things?

“Children, Suga,” you chuckled at his exhausted face before returning your gaze at the stars, of how they twinkled back at you, of how tragically beautiful they were. You never tired of looking at them night after night, committing them to memory, admiring them from afar. “Didn’t your parents read to you when you were a child?”

He chuckled tonelessly. His family wasn’t exactly…conventional. Hell, if he was raised with normal childhood where parents loved their kids, would he have turned out fine and not the fucked up man he was? The one who was incapable of love?

You looked at him as he looked up at the stars, his hands resting behind him, supporting his weight. The night was quiet, peaceful even. He looked so stoic, so tranquil that you thought he would never answered. After all, you practically knew nothing about him. For heaven’s sake, you had to name him because he refused to give you his name. Despite him existing in your life for months, you didn’t know any truth about him. He was always quick to dodge your questions, asking you questions of his own instead of answering. You didn’t expect him to tell you any of his truths.

This was also the reason why you convinced yourself not to look too much into what you felt, or how your heart seemed to calm when he was near…or how you felt like you were no longer alone for the first time since that tragedy that changed the trajectory of your life. This was all temporary, you kept telling yourself.

One day, he would leave and you would be alone again.

However much to your surprise, he finally answered. “My mother…used to sing lullabies to me every night,” his deep voice divulged, his eyes still trained to the stars you loved to look up to every night. This was the first time he talked about her, the first time he looked back on the nightmare that was his childhood. “She loved singing those French love songs,” he chuckled humorlessly, remembering how her voice calmed the young Yoongi.

“She’s probably worried about you right now…” you mused, thinking of how he had been gone from his normal life for months now. What parent would have not been worried, you thought.

He smirked before looking at you with emotionless eyes. “Why? She’s dead. And even if she’s alive, I don’t think she’s the kind to be worried.”

You frowned, surely that wasn’t the truth, you thought. “Suga-“

He leaned in, looking intensely at you, taking your space as though it was his. He placed his fingers under your chin, tilting your face to his liking. “She gave me this scar,” he whispered, his tone light like he was merely talking about the weather. “Daddy dearest made her choose. Her face-“ he tucked your stray hair behind your ear, his fingers touching your softly as though he wasn’t telling you his tragic childhood. “-or my eye. Guess which one she chose?”

Your lips trembled at what he said. You struggled to look at his eyes, your eyes shifting. What kind of twisted parents would hurt their child? What kind of demon would scar a helpless child? This close and you could see how deep the scar was and it pained you to think of the young Suga bleeding and crying as he clutched his eye.

“And now, I’m hideous,” he sneered, taking your silence as rejection, as disgust, as loathing. He was about to step back when you reached out and slowly, oh so slowly, traced his scar.

“Who told you that?” You asked softly, looking at his eyes with sincerity that it terrified him because no one had ever looked at him like that. You smiled at him, “You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, Suga.”

He looked at you with wonder, his expression slowly relaxing. How could an angel such as you thought of him as beautiful? If…if you knew what he had done, what he was capable of doing, would you still willingly touch him?

Would you still call him beautiful?

Would you finally see him as the monster that he truly was?

You were about to pull away from him when he laid his hand on yours, unwilling to be separated from this feeling that he couldn’t name for how could he when he was never shown love? When he was never taught of love?

How could he knew he was falling for you when that emotion was foreign to him?

“I-is your father still alive?”

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He thought he would feel regret when he opened up about his past to you. Strangely, all he felt was peace. He felt lighter.

“Good,” you whispered, nodding your head. They didn’t deserve to still be in Suga’s life after the horrifying deeds they did to a defenseless child.

“Noona?”

You snapped out of the trance that you were in, quickly putting distance that Suga hated upon hearing Jackson. He was rubbing the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to where the two of you were. “I woke up from a nightmare. A monster was chasing me, ahjussi,” he said sadly, cheeks damped from his tears. He looked up at Suga with a pout, lifting his little arms expectantly. Yet Suga looked at him in confusion.

“What? W-what does he want, Angel?” He asked you, shifting his gaze from the young child to you as though he was asking for help.

“I think…he wants you to pick him up.”

He sighed before easily picking him up. The child was quick to wrap his arms around Suga’s broad shoulders, his chubby cheeks leaning on his shoulder. “I wasn’t scared, ahjussi! I knew you can fight the monsters,” he boasted sleepily.

Suga didn’t even notice himself smiling at the sentiment. Of course he would slay all the monsters…despite him being one. Once the two of you got him in bed, Suga was about to turn around and leave when he called for him, whining about wanting him to stay so he could slay his demons.

And in that moment, Suga looked at you for permission. He held your eyes captive, his eyes gently awaiting your decision. You nodded at him, and the three of you laid quietly. Jackson was fast asleep in between the two of you, the darkness of the night making it difficult for you to know whether Suga was sleeping. Yet, when you turned to look at him, he was already looking at you with his dark eyes, his body fully attuned to yours.

You turned to him, your hands under your head as you looked at him. “I’m glad you survived that,” you whispered truthfully, your eyes tracing his scarred one.

He looked as though he was contemplating. You thought he would never answer as he was only looking at you, but then he asked, “Why?”

“Because you’re here now.”

In that moment, he was convinced now more than ever that they never loved him. Because when you loved someone, you would never hurt them, you would never even entertain the thought of hurting them. No. When you love someone, you protect them. You cherished them. You would never, ever, lay your hands on them. Yoongi thought that he would rather die than hurt you.

-

“May I help you?” You asked the tall and broad shouldered man. You noticed him looking around the clinic, his back facing yours. He looked like he was at loss as to what to do.

He turned around slowly, his dark eyes focusing on yours as he took you in. You weren’t ready when you finally saw him. He looked like he could say that he was a movie star and you would completely believe him with no question asked. He could claim that he was a prince and you would say, ‘yep, that sounds right’.

In conclusion, his beauty was out of this world. And he looked like he was aware of it. He had this clean look in him, almost clinical in nature. His hair was neatly combed back, his long-sleeves folded to his elbow.

“I…” he started, his brows furrowed as he considered what and how he was going to say. “I lost my cat.”

“Oh no, that’s terrible!”

He scrunched his nose and thought whether losing Yoongi was really terrible. His life was way quieter without him. Did he really want to look for him, he thought. He looked like he was in deep contemplation. “It…is?”

Your head tilted to the side in confusion. Wasn’t it a terrible thing to have lost your own pet?

At your expression, he straightened and nodded his head solemnly, willing you to believe him. “Yes. It’s terrible. It is.”

“What did you say you lost?”

“Yoongi,” he whispered under his breath.

“What?”

“I meant- a cat. I lost a vicious cat. A dangerous one,” he stated, his voice strong. “It is imperative that I find him.”

You blinked at his statement, and then some more when he wouldn’t stop looking at you. “Do you want my help?”

Suga looked at the clinic’s secretary with a dull expression on his face. For weeks since he started working at that diner as a waiter slash guard when rowdy teenagers visited the diner with no intention to pay, he always picked you up from the clinic. It became your tradition to go home together. He would go to the clinic as soon as he finished his work, and you would be where he wanted you to be- in your office waiting for him.

So where the fuck were you now?

He had his arms crossed, his eyes trained on her despite her trembling form.

“She’s not here,” he repeated slowly, not liking the thought of not knowing where you were. It pissed him off. It unnerved him. It didn’t sit right with him.

“She left early with some guy…”

Min Yoongi had never felt that exceedingly terrifying feeling before. It gnawed at his bone, it punched his heart as his brain thought of million grotesque scenarios concerning you. Did his enemies find you? Did his enemies found out that he was fucking alive? Did they somehow get to you?

Did you now know who he truly was?

His hand curled into a tight fist as he felt darkness clung to his mind. Was this how his paradise end?

You eyed the man sitting on your sofa. You helped him looked all over the town to no avail, yet when you asked him if he had a picture of his pet so that the search would be easier, he claimed that he lost his phone early that day.

He was calmly sipping the coffee you made him, looking around your house with nonchalant observation. It was already dark outside and you kept on looking at the clock. You wondered where Suga was. It was hours past his shift and he still wasn’t home.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find your cat.”

He smiled gently at you before softly placing the cup of coffee back on the table. You noticed that his movement was always refined, that he moved with an air of elegance as though he was born with a golden spoon.

“That’s fine,” he started, his voice deep and his eyes shone with intelligence like he knew something you didn’t. “He’ll come.”

You were about to ask him what he meant by that when the front door slammed opened. Suga’s eyes seemed to appear darker than the usual, his form menacing. This was the first time you saw him resembled a wild predator. He seemed to appear unhinged, his look of bewilderment when he finally found you made you unconsciously stepped back as he neared you with heavy steps.

But you didn’t get far.

You would have fallen had it not been for his arms that wrapped around you tightly as though he would never let you go. You never knew how big he was until he had you plastered to him, his form completely enveloping you. This close and you could hear how hard his heart was beating, how it wanted to break free from the cage that was his ribs. This close and you could feel how his body was trembling with an emotion you didn’t know.

“S-Suga-“

“Never,” he growled, his dark hair cascading on his face making him looked more feral. He gently pushed you away, his hands on your shoulder as he made you looked at him with ferocity. He was taking you in, the alarm in his face hadn’t gone down an inch. But the moment he saw you, he looked as though a weight had been taken off his shoulder.

He had never felt as thankful to whatever deity or Gods that were out there than he did the moment he saw you alive, that you were still here in front of him, that he could still fucking hold you.

“Never, ever go somewhere without telling me first,” he growled at you with a dark look on his face . He was imposing and serious like you had never seen him before. “Never go somewhere where I cannot fucking follow-“

“Suga, please calm do-“

“Do you understand me, Angel?” He cut you off as he tilted your chin up, making you understood how fucking terrified he was, of how he would find any other answer unacceptable but your agreement. And when you finally nodded did he reluctantly let you out of his hands.

And only then did he notice the man sitting on the sofa with a smirk on his face.

“Hyung.”

- National Police Agency, South Korea -

Park Jimin was staring at his laptop unblinkingly. Ever since he found out who the traitor was, he was at loss with what to do. He was raised to value both the organization and family. And right now, he needed to choose between the two.

He couldn’t find the answer as to why he was able to do what he did. He couldn’t understand why he betrayed Yoongi when he protected them like they were his own brothers. Min Yoongi, as dangerous as that man was, took lashes for them. He would tell them to fuck off and then catch a bullet for them. He made the difficult decisions for them. He bled just so the seven of them could live.

Min Yoongi was the most loyal man he ever knew.

And so, how could that traitor do that to him?

“Detective Park.”

Jimin lifted his eyes to the man who called him. He was wearing his uniform, just having been temporarily promoted to Yoongi’s position. He was smiling like the sunshine he was perceived to be, yet behind those smiles lied something dangerous…something sinister.

“A word.”

He smiled at the traitor.

He smiled at Jung Hoseok.

Latibule VII

someone is burning with jealousy~

Brushes and Beats chapter 15

pairing: JiminxReader

genre: fluff with a pinch of angst

trope: enemies to lovers

:never have i ever wished to be someone else:

Y/n's POV

present time,

Sweating palms and a jumping heart, that's how my anticipation manifests itself as I sit in front of my mirror, readying for my date with Jin. His sweet gestures and ready smiles have always charmed me, but on this occasion, the colors of my outfit seem to blur into one another, my reflection in the mirror revealing unease rather than excitement.

I start applying my makeup meticulously as if aiming to paint away my guilt rather than highlighting my features. There's a looming feeling in my chest, weighing me down, and it's not about tonight's choice of lipstick or whether I've paired the right accessories. It's about him. Park Jimin. This perfect pop star with a voice that makes heartbeats sound like a melody.

I feel my cheeks heat up just thinking about him. Once friends, then nuisance, and now this confusing muddle of emotions that I can't seem to navigate. The guilt emerges more. I'm not being fair to Jin, or to myself. I feel like I'm teetering on the edge of something I’m not sure I’m ready to confront.

In the reality of that moment, my foundation brush in hand seems to hold more power than it ever had. It's no longer just an instrument to perfect artistry but a symbol of the diversion of my feelings. As I lock my eyes with my own despairing gaze in the mirror, I know what I need to do. I have to put my heart first, even if it means embracing an agonizing truth.

The question now isn't whether I'm ready for this date, but whether I'm ready to face the whirlwind of my own feelings. With a deep breath and a determined resolve, I finish applying my makeup and decide to go with a bold red lip to match the intensity of the emotions that I'm about to confront.

The doorbell rings, and before I know it, I'm standing face-to-face with Jin. His warm smile momentarily eases the turmoil within me, but as we exchange pleasantries, a pang of guilt resurfaces. It's unfair to him to pretend that everything is fine when my heart is consumed by someone else. His genuine kindness and affection only amplify the internal struggle that I've been hiding for far too long.

The resounding words of Jin's laughter shake me out of my thoughts, reminding me of the present moment. I push aside my inner turmoil, focusing on being the best version of myself for Jin. Keeping the evening light and enjoyable is my priority, and I know I owe it to Jin to give him my undivided attention. We make our way to the restaurant, the atmosphere buzzing with conversations and clinking cutlery. As we sit across from each other at the table, the conversation flows effortlessly. Our laughter melds into the ambient noise of the bustling restaurant as we share stories and anecdotes. "It's amazing how well we get along," Jin remarks, his eyes filled with warmth as he gazes at me.

At that moment, I'm struck by a sense of bittersweetness. "It is indeed amazing," I reply, my voice tinged with a mix of sincerity and hesitation. I can feel the weight of my conflicting emotions pressing against my chest, threatening to spill out and shatter the illusion of happiness that Jin sees in me, trying to subside my emotions and keep the facade content, my hand accidentally hits my wine glass, causing it to topple and spill onto the pristine white tablecloth. "I'M SO SORRY!" I exclaim, my face flushing with embarrassment as I scramble to grab napkins and mop up the mess. As I frantically attempt to clean up the wine spill, a familiar voice cuts through the commotion, "Need a hand?" Without looking up from the wine-soaked tablecloth, my breath catches in my throat as I recognize the timbre of that voice - it's him.

What is he doing here?

As I slowly raise my head to meet his gaze, our eyes lock in a moment of silent recognition. For a brief moment, time freezes as our eyes connect across the room. The intensity in his eyes are undeniable as it shift from me to Jin and back to me again. "Ahh, no it's fine I've got it under control," I stammer, my heart pounding in my chest.

Jimin's lips curl into a smirk as he saunters over to the table anyway, disregarding my feeble attempt to dismiss him. "Seems like you could use a hand," Jimin says smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. "Yes, it's ok we got it under control," Jin interjects, his tone friendly but firm. Jimin raises an eyebrow at Jin's comment, a playful challenge gleaming in his eyes...

"Excuse me? Is it ok if we change our table?" Jin asks the waiter, shooting a quick apologetic glance in my direction. A few moments pass as the waiter considers Jin's request, and finally nods, leading us to a different table in a quieter corner of the restaurant.

"I'm so sorry, I did-"

" Relax, Y/n It's just wine," Jin cut me off gently, his voice laced with reassurance with a smile resting on his face. The waiter comes to check on us. Again, we reassure him

of how delicious everything is. Everything’s flippin’ perfect "Isn't he the-"

"Who?"

"The guy from earlier, isn't he Park Jimin?"

A slice of panic opens in my gut

"I'm not sure, I didn't get a good look"

Jin shrugged and indulged back to his food, while my attention was stolen by something, rather someone. My heart jolted when my eyes found him, sitting in the right far corner of the room.

He looks like he is waiting for someone.

Soon after he stands up and walks to the door, he comes back again but he is not alone. there is no doubt that he is on a date, it's purely shown by the way he pulls out the chair for her. I steal quick glances at him from the corner of my eye while staying engaged in conversation with Jin. Yet despite my best efforts, my mind drifts towards him, towards Park Jimin. He's sitting there, engrossed in his own world, with a date of his own.

What a player.

She was gorgeous, Her long hair spilled over her shoulder like soft ocean waves, Her aura screamed radiance like she was the center of attention and awareness in the moment.

An odd silence circles our table. Maybe Jin has noticed my distraction, or is it the lack of my sincere involvement? I smile, trying to fill the void, then ask him something about his work. Despite my trying to appear normal, I couldn't help but let my gaze stray to Jimin’s table again. Each glance adds another layer of guilt, another layer of turmoil.

Jin’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts, reminds me of where I am, and with whom - with Jin, who’s charming, and kind, and deserves someone who gives him their full attention, not someone whose mind is irrevocably tied to the person at table nine.

Was this jealousy?

I twist in my chair trying to keep a blank face and hide my emotions. Hoping he won't notice.

My heart beats faster as I watch him stand up and pour a glass of champagne for her, his date. It's a gesture so simple, and yet the elegance of it is solely him - it's pure Jimin. And it hurts because I wish, irrationally, illogically, desperately, that he was holding the glass out for me. I force myself to look away.

As much as I want to deny it, the very presence of Jimin in the room inflames the dormant emotions inside me; emotions I thought I had shelved away. Suddenly, the room feels too small for this whirlwind of unsaid words and unprocessed emotions. I feel caught between two worlds, both alluring yet so vastly different.

What a stark difference between me and her...can't blame him

"Shit they need me in the hospital"

We hurriedly stand up, not realizing they - Jimin and his date - had finished as well, heading to the only elevator in the building. Already jam-packed with people, we squeezed ourselves in, standing all too close to one another. The moment we all crammed in, a shrill beep rang out, the light above flashing a warning - over maximum weight capacity.

Eyes dart around the elevator, a bout of confusion plaguing everyone. It was then, I decided to take the initiative, "I'll get off," I mumble quickly, mustering a polite smile, "I, uh...need to use the restroom anyway."

With my foot halfway out the door, I find myself locking eyes with Jimin, who, much to my surprise, is positioned right at the back of the crowded elevator. "Are you sure, Y/n?" Jin inquires, drawing me back from the captivating pull of Jimin's gaze.

"Yeah," I mutter, not daring enough to take my eyes off Jimin. He gives nothing away, his expression an unreadable mask, yet something flickers in his eyes. Is it confusion? Annoyance? Or something more complicated? The intensity of his gaze makes my heart pound. There is an unspoken thread between us, unseen yet utterly palpable.

Each moment of eye contact feels as if we are enveloped in a bubble where it's only us. We're surrounded by people, yet it feels utterly alone as the world of ours that is filled with unspoken questions and pent-up feelings. Our ways might have parted yet there is an unsaid conversation that pulls us together.

As the elevator door begins to close, I force out a nod and step back, breaking eye contact. With the metallic slide of the doors, the connection is broken, his figure out of sight. The separation doesn’t ease the tension. If anything, it accentuates the fact that nothing is resolved between us.

I make a turn on my heels and stride off towards the restroom, the intensity of the encounter still searing through my veins, my heart pounding loud in my chest. I can't keep ignoring this

I didn't want anything. Not with Jin. Not with anyone except...

I realize, my hand trembling slightly as I splash water onto my face. I have to face this, face him - Park Jimin. With a deep breath, I look up into the mirror, meeting my own gaze with determination. No more running.

But first I need to do something.

And I found myself behind a door, I never thought I would knock on.

"You?"

"Hi Yoongi"

to be continued...

chapter 14 || chapter 16

Latibule Season 2: II

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: A late valentine's gift <3 I’m so sorry for taking so long. A lot happened and work is the busiest and and and life.

Masterlist, Latibule 2.I

“Hyung, did you hear me? I said-"

Kim Namjoon sighed from the other line, headache already creeping up his temples from the boatload of information Jimin was dumping on him on the other line. As who he considered to be the only sound and sane one among the seven, Namjoon was accustomed to being the voice of reason, getting the boys out of tight illegal situations, and managing the members. Min Yoongi might be the head of the mafia, but all seven of them were leaders in their own right and fields.

Seokjin was the head of the medical field, Namjoon of the twisted world of law, Jungkook of the technology world.

And this definitely was one of Namjoon’s specialties: stopping the fearless and heart-stricken leader of Bangtan from kidnapping a woman in broad daylight. For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t even against the illegal act itself, but could he just do it when there weren’t eyes watching him?! When the sun wasn’t at its highest?! When he wouldn’t be tomorrow’s headline?!

He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, glaring at the eldest hyung who was chuckling to himself. Seriously, he thought doctors were supposed to have no life and no time to annoy their friends? Why then was the Chief of the hospital barging in his office and lounging on his fancy sofa?

“I’m glad you found this amusing, hyung,” he commented dryly which only made the eldest laughed harder. “This isn’t something to laugh about.”

“What?! We all know something is definitely wrong with Yoongi. This isn’t news to us! This only confirmed our suspicions!”

“You could at least be supportive of what he’s going through right now.”

“Namjoon,” he started when he was finally done laughing, wiping the tears from the side of his eyes. “How do you expect me to be supportive of him right now? He’s on the verge of kidnapping a woman because he thought she looked like her. Does that make sense to you?”

He tilted his head before standing up, his movement elegant as he crossed the room to where Namjoon was sitting behind his desk. He smiled down at him, his hand supporting his weight as he leaned down on his wooden desk. “Dead people don’t exactly come back to life after burning from a fire as immense as that one, do they?” he asked, his tone light yet his eyes held faux curiosity. And at that moment, an air of danger surrounded the office. He could see the coldness that reflected on Jin’s eyes.

Namjoon knew when to back down, especially when Jin was in this mood. It was almost comical how quickly Jin’s emotions could switch, and it was definitely not amusing how bloody the effects could be. He wasn’t exactly the mafia prince for nothing. He, of all people, knew how perceptive and strategic Jin was. Never once did he do anything without a reason. And precisely because of that that it took him a moment before he answered. He lowered his eyes for a second before returning to Jin’s now amused ones. “They don’t, hyung.”

Jin nodded before turning to leave, his hand was in his pocket, his stance relaxed as though nothing was amissed. He had opened the door when he paused as though he remembered something. He twisted his body, his eyes trained on the famous attorney before his lips twisted into an entertained smile. His finger was now resting on his lips.

“Ah, unless they’re actually not dead.”

—-

Min Yoongi was like a man possessed, never leaving any stones unturned as he religiously looked for his angel.

He looked at every single piece of record of the town that the town had, employed several people to look for you, searched every available CCTV to trace any evidence that you existed, that you weren’t merely a figment of his imagination, that you weren’t merely indication of his declining sanity. Yet all roads lead to nothingness.

It was like any leads he got were mere fragments, offering little clarity or direction in the investigation. Likewise, it seemed as if someone was making sure that he’d go nowhere with the little pieces of evidences he was able to gather of your existence.

As days turned to weeks and to months, he was starting to be convinced that you were just his imagination playing tricks on him, that his mind was just too cruel to conjure an image of you, that it was just too sick to think that you came back to him. In this moment of profound longing, when the ache of your absence weighed heavily on his twisted soul, he couldn’t help but ponder about his choices in life.

On some days when he missed you the most, he thought that this must have been his karma for living his fucked-up life brutally. On a day like this when he should have been celebrating your birthday, when you were supposed to turn a year older, when you were supposed to be by his side as you blew your candle, he thought that this must have been his penance, a consequence of the twisted journey he had decided to walk on.

But wasn’t this just too painful?

Wasn’t his punishment too cruel to have the world gave him you, only to wretch you away from his arms?

Wasn’t it too cruel to have loved and lost you?

Yoongi let out a humorless chuckle, the puffs of smoke coming from his lips as he looked at what once was your home. It was your birthday, and tomorrow was your second death anniversary.

How he survived the existence without you, he would never know. He decided that he would never stop looking for you because accepting that you were gone from this fucking earth was not an option. He could feel inside the dead heart of his that yours were still beating. He knew a love as immense as what he felt for you wouldn’t die as easily as that. No.

Min Yoongi would find you.

“Happy birthday, my angel,” he whispered to nothingness, only the moon bore witness to his greeting, the night enveloped him in a solitary embrace. The echoes of his sentiment lingered in the air, hoping that his words reached you where you were.

---

“Happy birthday, eomma,” Jung Hoseok finished the song lightly, clapping the chubby little hands of your son in sync with the tune of the song. Your son was giggling as he bounced him on his lap, looking over his long lashes to Hoseok.

“Careful, the candle’s just in front of you,” he warned before shuffling the cake an inch closer to you. He came home almost an hour ago from his work in the docks with a box of cake in his hands he bought. You could no longer count how many times the three of you moved over the year, the last one being the most suspicious to you when after you came home from the market, he had already packed your bags. Before you knew it, he was already driving away from the town.

You lived in so many places.

You never felt at home in any of them.

It was unfair how you only felt at home when you were in his arms.

You clutched your walking stick on one hand, the other cautiously running your hand on the table to detect the cake’s placement.

“I’m not fully blind yet, Hoseok,” you admonished him teasingly before closing your eyes and wishing with all your heart that your son grew up happy. You wished to the heavens that his fate was kinder to him, that he didn’t have to suffer the way you did. You prayed that his fate was free from the shadows that haunted your own past.

You wished that he could live the life he deserved.

“Eomma,” he called for you, lifting his chubby arms to go to you. Hoseok cooed at him before lifting him to your lap carefully. You felt the warmth of his little arms encircling your neck, tiny lips pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks before erupting into giggles. "Eomma!"

A smile graced your face as you soaked in the pure joy radiating from your beloved child. Leaning in, you planted a loving kiss on the person you now cherished most in the world. His eyes lit up in response, a mirror image of his father's, carrying the same warmth and affection he did when he looked at you.

Hoseok watched the two of you from his seat. It was almost comical how he loathed your son’s father with all his heart, only to love his son with the same intensity. If he couldn’t end that bastard brother of his, if he didn’t have it in him to finish the job and kill you, then he would just take the life Yoongi was supposed to live.

He would never let go of the two of you- not when he found peace in this little family. The only way he would let go of this was if the only person he loved came back to him. But that was impossible, right? After all, Yoongi made sure that she would cease to exist in this world.

Wasn’t this the crueler revenge, he thought. Wasn’t this what Min Yoongi deserved?

It was almost amusing to think how he could have been dead if not for one of his brothers that saved him and you that fateful night. He could have almost missed this little slice of heaven had it not been for his brother, the only one who knew that he was still alive.

---

Almost two years ago, somewhere in a small province of South Korea

You woke up with a start, your heart beating faster as evidenced by the spike in the heart monitor attached on your bruised skin. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, attached to your bruised skin, echoed in the room, its pace mirroring the accelerated beat of your heart. The sudden awareness left you momentarily disoriented, and the sterile environment around you hinted at the gravity of the situation. As your senses sharpened, you couldn't shake the feeling that the throbbing in your chest was not only from the abrupt awakening but also from the lingering echoes of a disconcerting dream or a painful reality.

Every single thing that happened went back to you.

Every single detail of that night, of the way he smiled so tenderly at you, of the way he softly told you that he would be back, of the way a strange man entered your house and threatened you.

The recollection was vivid, etched into your consciousness like a haunting melody.

You remembered the way Suga’s face became cold the moment he saw that man. You remembered not seeing even a trace of the man you loved.

You remembered the truth and the pain that came with it, and then you remembered thinking it was your end. Beyond it all, beyond all the betrayal, lies and deceit that unfolded, you remembered wishing that he would be fine after all of that like the fool you were.

Wincing, you lifted your fragile hand to your shoulder, feeling a faint pain where the bullet had pierced your skin.

“Don’t move,” a tired voice sounded on your left. Startled, you turned to look at the source, only to find the man who attempted to kill you leaning against the wall, his own arm bandaged, his handsome face colored with faint bruises.

Hoseok didn’t come out of it unscathed, no. He looked so hallow. It was like he was a lost child, like a man that lost his purpose, like he was a shell of what once was a soul.

He must have seen your alarmed expression. He waved his other arm, his jaw clenching from the events that transpired. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You blinked at him, never trusting a word that came out of his mouth. It would be difficult for you when you saw how he unleashed hell that night.

“I-I,” you swallowed, your dried throat making it harder to speak. “d-don’t believe y-you.”

He watched you for a moment before nodding his head. That was fair, he thought. “How are you feeling? You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

What?

“Y-you waited that long to kill me?” you asked, your voice hoarse as you sat down. If he was going to end you, then you wouldn’t take it lying down.

Wordlessly, he crossed the room, lifting the glass of water on your bedside table, the straw turned to you. “Drink.”

You glared at him, distrust and anger in your eyes as you met his emotionless ones.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You scoffed, turning your head away from him to look at where on earth you could have been. The hospital room was small, the window offering no clue as to your whereabouts. You wondered where Suga could have been.

Did he make it out alive?

Was he hurt?

Was he looking for you?

Did you want him to after what you knew?

“I do draw the line on killing expectant mothers.”

Latibule 2.III