Yeah You Shouldve Stayed Gone Coming Back With A Shitty Story Like That?

Yeah you should’ve stayed gone coming back with a shitty story like that? 🤦‍♀️

u wanted attention? ill give u attention. i know enough about my writing to know that its not completely shit, i wouldnt have people reading it if i didnt. i feel bad for u and ur life that u have to get on some app to try and bully others to feel better about yourself. if you dont like my stories, you are free to not read them but to spend time sending a message like this, is a cry for help for your own self. don't be anonymous if you want to actually start a fight with me.

i will not be tolerating any messages in my inbox like this, you have a bone to pick with me? send me a direct message instead of being a coward like this

its so freeing when you realize you can literally write whatever you want 

“soon he accepted that i didn’t like the same things he did and stopped pushing me. but i still felt as if i was disappointing him by not doing the ‘fun’ things he was doing, even if that feeling wasn’t fair to me and even if i knew that he never thought of me like that.”

ahh this really got me since i have the exact same relationship with my childhood best friend. hearing my exact thoughts be put into words (& that this isn’t a unique feeling) made me so comforted!! thank you for writing & for sharing your work :’) 🤍 i really enjoyed it!!

aw thank you so much for reading ! it really makes my day that you were able to be feel comforted by my work, if it make's anything better, i feel the same with my friends, youre definitely not alone ❤️ thank you again!

on repeat - m.yg.

genre: major angst, a bit of fluff at the end (timeloop! character death!) (7.2k)

summary: yoongi gets stuck in a vicious cycle where he can't seem to propose to you, nor save you from dying in his arms.

masterpost

he was going to propose to you.

that was the plan, the night was supposed to end with you in his arms, a dazzling smile on your face and his heart bursting at the seams with his love for you.

but yoongi is mute, rigid, a velvet box pressed against his thigh uncomfortably, a future with the ring inside it seemed impossible.

you sat, some distance away, a country away it seemed like to yoongi, you too were mute, and rigid but you were restless with anger that frankly, scared him.

the cab rumbled beneath his feet and his throat bobbed constantly, zayn malik’s ‘cruel’ buzzed over the air but it did nothing to ease the tension between you two.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if he could say anything.

he sees his hand which lay next to yours, he could reach out, touch it, apologize, pull you in, let you yell at him but instead, he retracts it into his lap and folds it in defeat.

your nails dig into the leather of the car seat, so intensely, so painfully, and your jaw stays tight.

“can we-“

“don’t.” your warning hits him in a wave, you never speak to him like that, and you never look at him as if you could walk away from everything you’ve built together but you do now, you do now and yoongi feels like he’s falling into an abyss of failure.

yoongi slumps into his seat, eyeing the seconds ticking by on his watch, anxiety building so largely in his chest that he has to sit up, to let it dissipate physically.

“this isn’t fair,” he utters finally and you scoff, chin trembling, “tough luck, yoongi.”

he shakes his head, “how are we going to sort this out if you’re being like this?”

“we? there’s no ‘we’ here, yoongi, you have to sort this out,” you spit it out, body lurching forward in defense and yoongi drowns once again, in shame, in guilt, in a vicious cocktail of emotions that only you make him feel.

“okay fine, how am i supposed to sort this out?” he turns to face you, just as the cab pulls to a stop at the curb, the tires screeching under him irritates yoongi, but he keeps looking at you.

and he notices something he didn’t before.

a single tear falls out of your eyes and travels down your jaw, so slowly that yoongi feels he could draw it as it moves.

you never cry, not at movies, not at songs, not at anniversaries, yoongi had hoped he would make you cry today but not this way; he was hoping to see you so overjoyed that tears leaked without your permission.

but not this, not this strange, broken, lost tear that gets quickly wiped away by you.

“figure it out.” you declare and step out of the car, slamming it shut in the process and yoongi falls back on his seat, stunned and mournful as the weeds of grief sow into his heart.

you never cry.

-

yoongi buttons his suit, a cold expression on his face as he follows you into the rousing club, the rousing club he owned, the rousing club where you performed as a singer, this was where you met, this was where your love grew, this was where yoongi knew would be perfect for proposing to you.

but as you stomped in your tallest heels in front of him, your dress flowing behind you in an ethereal way, yoongi felt like he’d gone back to the day when he saw your audition, you had looked out of this world, so out of his league, so painfully beautiful but his heart tugged him towards you, in a way that was out of his control.

and you had taken his heart in, caged it in your palms, and never set it free, yoongi had never wanted to be set free, but you were leaving the cage open now, and he didn’t know where to go.

he didn’t where he belonged, if it wasn’t next to you.

“sir, ma’m,” the bouncers greeted you two, you smiled so sweetly at them, asking them about their day and their meals, then as they all turned to him, your face went back to the grim, dangerous fury that yoongi could feel burning into him.

as yoongi made small talk, you disappeared into the club, into the crowd of people, and yoongi, once again, tracked you down and followed you.

today was a big day for his club, “midas and tunes”, it was the grand re-opening after a successful year, and some huge renovations, he had been running around for months like a madman to prepare for this night, both the proposal and the re-opening, and a lot of yoongi’s stress was supposed to alleviate at the end of today.

but watching you, two feet away, not being able to touch you, or talk to you, just spiked his anxiety to the highest it’s ever been.

yoongi pushes through the people, half-heartedly greeting everyone on his way to you and you don’t look back, you march over to the side of the stage and he rushes to catch your wrist.

and as subtly as you could, you ripped it from his grip, throwing him a glare and say, “i’m going up there in one minute, i don’t want to hear a word from you.”

he’s had enough.

he lets out a groan of frustration, he wasn’t a saint, he wasn’t made of endless patience and god, he was trying but you were just, “you’re being so fucking difficult right now.” and your anger flares in your eyes, yoongi feels stupid for saying anything at all, the box in his pocket shakes its head at him.

“not another word, min yoongi.” you warn with your finger pointed at him to further punctuate your point, “go, be a good host and don’t you dare come back home tonight.”

with that, you change your face from a glare to the dazzling smile that yoongi loves, you walk onto the stage and wave at the group of people shining in the crowd.

yoongi purses his lips and works his way through the club, greeting, smiling, and exchanging niceties even as his feet wobble and his heart feels dry.

he watches you from the corner of his eyes, you glow on stage, your smile is perfect, your eyes are perfect, you are perfect, and you make it look so easy, going up in front of a couple of hundred people and talking to them with a confidence that no one could wreck with.

you were always this enigmatic, and yoongi had always felt he was less than you.

but he would never do anything to stand in the way of you and your light, he would always take the shadows so you could shine, which is why it makes it that much more difficult for him to hold onto you right at this moment.

he watched, proud eyes, sinking heart as you sang, each word so raw and rich that yoongi tunes out everything else around him.

your eyes flutter to him, he thinks it’ll be a vicious glare again, a snarl, anything to indicate your anger, but instead, your eyes soften around their edges, you lend him a ghost of a smile, a delicate moment passes between you two and yoongi smiles back at you.

you two would be okay, of course, you would be and if you kept smiling this way, yoongi would be on one knee by the end of tonight, and it would end exactly how he had dreamt it to.

but just as a bigger smile starts to grace your face, a loud bang from the back of the club startles yoongi, several loud bangs and clangs fill the air, people start screaming around him, pushing him in every direction to find the source of the noise and yoongi’s eyes rush to find you.

he starts pushing too, the air around him grows sparse, and his body keeps pulling him into the crowd when he’s trying to push against it.

his body grows cold when he hears the bang of a gun, the clutter of a bullet, the falling of a table, and screams.

so.

many.

screams.

they echo and bounce off his ears, some creep into his soul and stop his steps in fear.

but he pushes through, hurriedly, more frantically, because for fucks’ sake, he can’t see you, he can’t see your pretty eyes, your flowing dress, your tall heels, he can’t see you anywhere around him.

then, he stops.

yoongi falls.

to his knees.

the pain of the ground hitting his bones, shoots through him but his heart aches much more, it squeezes and squeezes at the sight in front of him.

a single bullet in the middle of your forehead.

your body on the ground.

no breathing, no movement, no sound.

just a single tear dripping at the tip of your nose.

yoongi crawls forward, eyes wide, skin riddled with terror, fresh terror that grabbed him by his throat, he gathers your body into his lap and taps your cheeks, taps your arms, taps your eyes, holds his ear to your nose, he calls out to you, he says your name once, twice, a billion times.

and he cries.

he holds your head to his chest and he cries so loudly, he can hear himself over the chaos, the banging, the clutter, his cries resonate and punctuate the air.

yoongi fiddles for the box in his pockets and blindly throws it across the room, it had no place in his world from today.

he had no place in his world from today.

-

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi stirred, his entire body hurt, his head was pounding and he winced as he tried to open his heavy eyes but when he managed somehow to peel them open, he is greeted with the sight of a window.

a window in a cab.

he jolts awake, his body screams in protest as he whips his head around.

you.

you.

you.

you got shot, you bled out in his arms, yoongi cried to the heavens.

but you are here.

your dress is flowing around you.

yesterday’s dress.

there’s no blood on it, not even a wrinkle, it’s pristine, and it’s as ethereal as he remembers, yoongi’s eyes reach your face, you are looking at him tensely but today, you have a concerned frown along with your anger.

what was happening?

“you good?” you ask, tone reluctant and stiff and yoongi feels himself go pale, it feels strange to hear your voice after your blood washed him away, “what happened?” he gasps, so desperately, so lost, his hands curl on the leather as they try to reach you, but you only scoff at him.

“we just hit a speed bump, yoongi, don’t be such a drama queen.”

no.

he had every right to freak out.

he saw you die.

“ho-how are you?” he feels stupid as he asks, he feels even more stupid when you glance at him with an arched eyebrow, “i’m trying not to kill you, what about you?”

yoongi drops his head against his seat, you are speaking to him, you are here, you are alive and yoongi can now feel the same velvet box pressing against his thigh.

he had thrown it away; he had held your skin as it turned blue.

but the cab was the same as yesterday, same zayn song, same tinted windows, same driver, same everything.

even your anger was the same.

yoongi felt like he could explode.

maybe it was a bad dream, maybe yoongi had somehow conjured the worst of worst-case scenarios in the tense moments that followed up to this day.

and he sighs in relief, you’re alive, you’re all right, it was a bad dream and he still could fix things.

but he still felt uneasy, something in the pit of his stomach kept curling and unfurling, a forewarning or a simple case of nerves on a huge day, yoongi wasn’t sure, he didn’t feel brave enough to question it for too long.

he wordlessly followed you into the club and watched you take your place on the stage, he watched your flowing dress and long heels and laughed to himself about how differently things went in his dream.

you would probably kill him before you ever died.

“i’d like to welcome you all, with a full heart, for our grand re-opening,” you spoke so smoothly, your words echoing off yoongi’s dreams and he tried to shrug off the way his stomach kept churning.

just nerves.

he told himself again and again, he was going to propose for fucks’ sake, of course, he was going to feel a bit queasy.

but failing to ignore the spikes growing on his spine, he turned around to survey the crowd, to convince himself that this was all completely normal, and when he saw smiling faces, glasses of alcohol, and glittering lights, he turned back to you, shaking his head at himself.

he was overthinking it all, he just had to make things right by you and then get down on one knee, and sleep it off.

the lights descend on you and a tune fills the air.

you started singing, his senses get consumed by you in the same second your voice travels to him.

yoongi feels himself relax.

his shoulders fall away from his ears, his chest expands to take in more air and he straightens his posture, he sips his drink and pours all his attention to the light that makes you glow.

your eyes meet his.

his shoulders pick back up.

he knows this scene.

yoongi’s heart thundered in his chest.

wasn’t this how you looked at him before you died in his arms?

he rushes forward, mumbling apologies to the people he pushes as unease crawls through his every sense. yoongi’s hands thrust in front of him, an urgent fever almost turns him blind.

if something happens, he will never forgive himself.

he reaches where you stand, hands and palms towards you, heart beating in his ears and your eyes light up at his stance, your anger melts at his open arms and as you sing, your hand reaches out for his, and yoongi feels his heart slip at the adoration that coated your glistening eyes.

oh.

you have mistaken his intentions but yoongi will take just about anything from you right now.

he places his hands in yours, “i’ve got you,” he whispers to you, he doesn’t know why, and your eyes round in surprise, then soften again, and you mouth back, “i’ve got you too.”

if you think his behavior is strange, especially because yoongi is never affectionate publicly, you don’t say anything and yoongi feels all the more grateful for it.

after sticking around until the song almost finished, yoongi meekly finds his way back into the crowd, but his brow glistened with sweat and his hands felt clammy.

but the worst was over, you finished your song and you were still alive, nothing bad had happened.

he needed help.

“hey, you” your voice breaks him out of his head, he looks up to see your eyes filled with subdued anger, “wanna dance to this, big boy?”

zayn’s ‘cruel’ fills his ears once again, he used to love the song but now, it fills him with vicious deja-vu, nevertheless, yoongi lets you whisk him away and he tries to move with you, tries to match your steps, tries to match your smile but the song seems to mock him.

‘who do you love, who do you love?’

“i know i was being really mean to you,” you speak under the neon lights, he sees your lips move, and he feels the weight of your words but yoongi doesn’t listen, “we’ll sort this out, okay? we’ve been through worse, you just have to promise me that you will never invite them again.”

right.

the actual reason you were fighting.

yoongi feels his fear melt, and he lets it melt completely, “i know we will, besides, i have so much planned for us, you can’t leave me hanging in all that.” he rests his forehead on you as you let out a giggle and curl into him.

“what does that mean?”

the box in his trousers begged to be let out, yoongi smiled, he had nothing to be worried about, “it means that i have a question to ask you-“

bang!

he feels his world spin on his feet when the crash comes, the same crash from his dreams, the same crash that killed you, yoongi’s arms fall from you and his breath comes short, he turns to the source of the noise, eyes darting wildly in the air.

“yoongi!” your screams come from beside him, your hands grip his arms, and he winces as your nails dig into his shirt, but he’s panicked, he’s scared, and he needs to take down the people doing it.

he can’t let them get to you.

“yo-“

a ringing noise travels in his ear, he swears he heard a bullet before it, and as his eyes drag over to you, achingly, as slowly as he can because he fears he knows what he will see.

and yoongi falls to his knees again.

he wipes the single tear off your face before crumbling next to you.

-

yoongi could still feel the warmth of your blood seeping through his fingers, as he stirred from slumber, he felt his clothes stretch against leather and his eyes shot open.

the cab window stared back at him.

the neon lights of the city mocked him.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

the song pressed itself into his brain.

“no, no, no,” he gripped his hair in his hands as he leaned forward, this couldn’t be happening, not again.

“seriously, yoongi? i’m the one who is hurt and you want to act like the baby?” your razor-sharp eyes ground him, and he lurches forward to grab your hand.

you were real.

you were here.

but this time, yoongi knew it couldn’t have been a dream. it had felt too real, his pain had been too real and coincidence didn’t seem like a strong enough explanation.

“what are you doing, yoongi?” you hiss and bat his hand away, looking out the window with a stone-cold expression.

but yoongi had his own problems.

he had to ignore the sting in his heart to figure out what the fuck was happening with his life.

why was it this cab?

why was it this song?

and why did you always die at the end?

yoongi could only think of one explanation, a burglary gone wrong, because everyone else was a respected guest, thoroughly vetted and yoongi knew all of them personally, none of them would want to hurt you.

but yoongi thinks back to how acutely he felt the box in his pocket, how it pressed into him more whenever you…well, whenever you died.

“i have to do this here,” he whispers to himself, hands already reaching out to rip the box out of his pocket, he faces you and yoongi tries not to feel hurt over the anger still flashing in your eyes.

“i know this isn’t a good time, but i need to do this, please look at me,” yoongi begs you, and he never begged anyone for anything, which is what makes you turn to look at him.

a gasp leaves your lips the second you notice the box in his palm, “yoongi, oh my god,” you say, breathlessly, in adoration and fear, and yoongi wishes he could’ve done this differently, “i know we’re fighting and i know you’re upset with me but even if you are, even if we aren’t always good, i want to be with you and no one else, for the rest of my life.”

yoongi’s throat feels dry, his heart doesn’t sing even if he means his words, he desperately wishes he was doing this differently but he knows no way out, he didn’t want to wake up to your angry face, he didn’t want to see you die anymore, he didn’t want to be in this cab anymore.

“aw, yoongi,” at least, it seems that you find it sentimental, your eyes glisten with unshed tears, any anger is dissipated from your face, and yoongi’s heart cheers.

he did it.

“i want to spend the rest of my life with you too,” you hum happily, a single tear escapes your eyes as you watch him and his fingers reach out for your hand, he is finally feeling the buzz and excitement that comes with proposing.

yoongi was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

bang!

yoongi’s heart sinks, the ring dangles and falls off from his grip, and the cab swerves unnaturally to the divider in the road.

it was the tire, yoongi knew it was from the way the cab lost control.

“yoongi!” your scream reaches him and yoongi only watches as blinding lights fall from behind you and he can only watch as they crash into your side of the cab, throwing the vehicle into the middle of the street.

and he closes his eyes, he doesn’t turn your way, he refuses to look at your hand that falls on his lap, he ignores the blood dripping on his trousers.

he lets the ring fall onto the floor of the cab.

-

leather.

box.

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

that damn song.

this time, yoongi didn’t bother being surprised or confused, he opened his eyes, and the window came into his view, he sighed, he looked to his side, he saw your simmering eyes settled in a scowl, he sighed, he felt the box in his pocket, he sighed.

if he was going to do this a million times, he figured that he might as well get somewhere with you.

“i’m sorry for inviting your family,” he starts and you scoff at him, but he continues, he was going to live this day again and again until the universe was done playing with him apparently, yoongi had nothing to lose. “i shouldn’t have tried to act like some hero, reuniting you guys, i should’ve understood why you hated them so much and stayed out of your way.”

your posture visibly relaxes, your shoulders drop, your scowl melts by a little, and you turn to him with tears in your eyes, “i just don’t understand why you thought it was a good idea, they are people who have betrayed me so many times yoongi, i didn’t want to see their faces ever.”

yoongi had thought that, as much as you fought with your family, you would still want them around for his proposal, he had spent weeks meticulously planning things with them, but he should’ve known you better, he should’ve tried to understand that he couldn’t do things just because he thought it would turn out well for you.

and yoongi feels terrible, “let’s just say, i had something big planned for today.” his palms fold on his lap and his head drops to the seat, he feels exhausted, he feels so far and close to how he wanted tonight to end.

he doesn’t answer you when you ask him what it was, he doesn’t say anything at all even when his club comes into view, he walks straight into it and grabs a glass of whiskey for himself.

god knows that he’s earned it.

“yoongi, i’m up in two minutes,” you approach him at the bar, eyes wide with concern, “good luck, you’re going to kill it.” he taps your shoulder, then winces at his choice of words and your eyebrows twist in confusion.

“are you still angry?” yoongi turns away at your question, he was acting like an asshole but if you were going to die again, yoongi didn’t want to see another second of it, he couldn’t see another second of it without going completely insane, “i’m not, just nerves, don’t worry about it.” he knows you can sense how half-hearted his tone is but you only eye him warily once before leaving his side.

yoongi lets his head fall onto the cool glass of the bar countertop, he hears your delicate voice swimming in the air and he buries himself further into the glass.

“oh, hyung!” yoongi frowns, no one calls him that.

he slowly looks up to see your brother, steve, the one he invited, the one you hated, “oh hey man, how’s it going?” yoongi gives him a one-arm hug and proceeds to nurse his drink again.

“all good, the club’s beautiful, no wonder you picked this for the proposal,” steve looks fine, yoongi wonders why you hate him, “well, don’t get too excited about the proposal.”

“if your sister stops dying for two minutes, i would have a chance at that,” his tone is bitter but yoongi’s chest aches, is this how it’s going to be? is he going to watch you die a million more times before he ever gets to call you, his wife?

“huh?”

“don’t worry about it, rough day.” he waves your brother off, hoping that he will leave yoongi alone but steve lingers, “so hyung,” yoongi didn’t have the energy to correct him that he in fact, wasn’t his hyung.

“i’m between jobs right now, the club looks terrific, you think you can hook me with something?” steve says so casually, that yoongi has to resist the urge to roll his eyes at his soon-to-be brother-in-law.

his brother-in-law had no skills in subtlety and suddenly, yoongi started seeing why you might hate your family.

yoongi’s met this guy for two minutes and he’s already asking for a job, and he’s heard you complain about how your family keeps asking you for everything, he feels even more terrible for inviting them.

“i’ll look into it.” his words hold no promise but your brother brightens up immediately, taking a seat next to yoongi and beaming at him, yoongi politely smiles and focuses on his drink.

“but seriously hyung, why her?”

“i’m sorry?”

“oh come on hyung, you know as much as i do, that you can do way better than my sister,” yoongi looks at steve in disbelief, why was your brother talking shit about his own sister, especially on the night of her proposal?

“she’s heartless hyung, she will chew you up and leave you with nothing, trust me our entire family has experienced it.” yoongi’s grip around his glass tightens, and he hears the cracks that threaten to break it, he wished it was steve’s neck instead.

“get out.”

“what?”

“i said, get the fuck out of my club before i get you kicked out.”

“hyung, i’m only trying to protect you from her, she’s insane,” and yoongi loses it completely, “why are you still standing and speaking to me? i told you to get out.”

“what’s going on?” you step into the bar with your arms across your chest, you already look tired, “your brother was just leaving, the exit’s that way.” yoongi pointed out for steve and sat back down.

steve goes red in the face, his breaths leave him rushed and he is visibly angry.

yoongi wished he gave a singular fuck about him.

“you’re going to let this man be your husband, after how he talked to your brother?” steve turns to you and you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what husband are you talking about, steve?”

wow.

there went yoongi’s plan of a surprise proposal.

“ask him,” steve was doing this intentionally, yoongi knew the second he saw the glint pass his eyes, he was enjoying ruining your proposal, “he’s speaking bullshit, which is why i asked him to leave, and he still hasn’t left for some reason.” yoongi shrugs, trying to play it cool, trying to act as if a box wasn’t pressing into his thighs.

“no, ask him what it is in his pocket. ask him!” steve points wildly at yoongi, his anger flaring even more and yoongi’s eyebrows line with sweat, you look at him in confusion, he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“stop it right now, steve.” yoongi tries to maintain his cool.

“just because i asked you for a job, doesn’t already make you the boss of me, i hope you and her rot together,” he hisses out at yoongi.

“you asked yoongi for a job?”

shit.

yoongi tenses up once again, because you sound scalded, he turns immediately, abandoning his drink and peace.

you are holding back tears as you stare pointedly at your brother.

steve goes red again, “well, my useless sister wasn’t doing anything for me, so i thought i’d at least try with her husband.” he scoffs and yoongi’s never wanted to punch someone so badly.

your face flashes with hurt and your lips turn down, you turn to stare at yoongi with venom dripping from your eyes, as if to tell him, ‘see, this is why i hate them.’

you didn’t have to signal that twice, yoongi’s understood how terrible your family is, based on the very short interaction with your brother.

“okay, play time’s over, follow me quietly or my bouncers will carry you out,” yoongi sinks from his seat and glares at steve until his shoulders fall and his feet line up with yoongi’s.

“you’re the most selfish person i know, you don’t deserve any of this,” steve growls at you, and yoongi grabs the jacket of his suit, pulling him away from you, “shut up, if you know what’s good for you, you won’t speak another word.”

“i’m selfish? after everything i’ve done for you, i’m the selfish one?” you half-scream at steve, with trembling hands and a single tear falling out of your eyes.

yoongi’s seen this scene before, a hurtle of recognition tumbles over him as he finally notices what exactly happens whenever a tear falls from your eyes.

you die and he fails to save you, every single time that a tear touches your chin.

“without your husband, you would be nothing,” steve points his finger at you, and your face twists in annoyance, “why does he keep saying husband?”

“yeah hyung, why do i keep saying husband?” steve turns to yoongi with his arms crossed, a smug smile dancing on his lips and yoongi’s mind goes blank.

he doesn’t say a word.

he doesn’t look up to see you.

he just wanted to do this one night right, and it was all falling on him again.

“yoongi?” you look at him expectantly, he looks away, he swallows the lump in his throat and he wants to run away.

“let me help you, hyung,” steve steps forward and yoongi doesn’t know why he’s saying that, he doesn’t process a word until steve shoves his hand into yoongi’s pocket and pulls out the velvet box that hasn’t left him alone.

your mouth falls open as the action catches the attention of everyone in the room, collective gasps, squeals, and whispers cloud yoongi’s mind as he tries to look for your reaction in all this.

there’s no joy on your face, no excitement, just a wide eye and dropped jaw staring back at him.

he feels several knives twist themselves into his chest and it takes everything in him to not fall on the floor and curl himself up.

he never wanted this, he never wanted to live through a night where you would reject him.

as people started crowding, yoongi’s throat tightened, his entire heart was dangling from steve’s fingers and he couldn’t do a thing about it.

but he looked at you, with some faded hope that you would wake yourself up and give him your heart too.

“come here,” your whisper barely registers to him, your touch barely dawns on him as you drag him away from the crowd.

it’s only when a gust of cold wind breaks on his face that he looks up to see that you have dragged him to the patio.

“yoongi, please look at me.”

he swallows another sob down his throat.

“it’s okay, i understand why you would say no, i fucked the whole thing up,” he runs a hand through his hair, his head refused to pick itself up, and your whispers of ‘no, no, no’ reach him slowly.

“it’s not like that,” your hands come into his view before they cup his jaw and force him to look at you, yoongi barely holds himself together as your fingers run circles on his cheeks, “i just wish,” you sigh, hands coming around his neck and resting your forehead on his chest.

yoongi’s hands twitch beside his body, “what do you wish for?” and he almost doesn’t recognize his voice, he sounds so weak, so desperate, but yoongi couldn’t hide it, it was exactly how he felt.

“i just wish it was us,” you start, yoongi holds his breath, “and no one else.”

“that’s all?”

“that’s all, yoongi” you let out a small laugh into his chest before picking yourself up and staring at him with all the love in the world.

he feels his worries run away like steam from a hot plate of food.

bang!

yoongi’s arms lurch out to you, pulling you to him as his breath quickens.

that fucking noise.

you both watched with wide eyes as people tumbled out of the club, screaming, falling, running, and looking back in fear. yoongi grabs your hand and runs, he runs with heavy steps and pulls you with him, he desperately looks back every two seconds as more and more people file out.

“yoongi!” your nails barely hold onto his jacket and he feels your grip loosen.

then, he doesn’t feel it at all.

yoongi stops running, he rushes back as people push him out of the way, as people shove his shoulder, step on his feet, and elbow him in the stomach, he winces and groans but he doesn’t stop looking for you in the crowd.

he screams your name, searches for your dress, searches for your heels, searches for your nails but nothing comes into view.

yoongi feels the acid rush into his mouth, he feels the choking that suffocates his chest and throat, and he feels his knees weaken at the thought of his nightmare repeating again.

and he realizes he can’t do anything at all to stop it.

the night ends when the crowd ends, when the police cars show up, when they find your body on the floor and put it into a body bag, and when they explain to yoongi that it was because of a stampede and it couldn’t have been in his control.

yoongi laughs at them.

nothing had ever been in his control.

-

‘back where we left off,

help you take your dress off,

i’ve been by myself, remembering you.’

yoongi didn’t open his eyes.

he knew what came next.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

his eyes scrunch in pain as your voice floats in his head, he remembers the promise in your eyes, the tremble of your fingers as they snaked around his neck and he was so close this time, so fucking close but he was here again, and you were here too.

again.

the tires under the car screech and pull over.

“yoongi, we need to go.” your stern voice pulls him back in, and he opens his eyes, dazed, he stares at the cab window with the weight of a thousand boulders on his shoulders.

he doesn’t know how to fix this; he doesn’t know how to save you and yoongi is so close to just letting the nights blend into each other until he dies with you.

“i just wish it was us, and no one else.”

but you.

you deserved more than a resigned fate, you deserved more than a man who didn’t know how to save you, hell you deserved a man who knew what you wanted.

“yoongi, are you listening to me? we’re here,” you say once again and yoongi stares at his club, which shines so brightly in the night and he doesn’t make a single move to get out, even as you huff in annoyance.

here.

here lay so many nights.

here lay so many of your bodies.

then yoongi straightens up.

here.

here lay so many of your bodies.

here was the problem.

“we need to go back,” he whispers to no one, his nerves catch fire as the craziest or maybe not-crazy-at-all plan he’s ever come up with starts burning in his mind, he looks at you, your angry eyes, and scrunched-up fists, and reaches out for them.

“do you trust me?” he asks hastily, fingers gripping your fists and you frown at him, “what are you going on about?”

“do you trust me? please tell me,” maybe it was the tears gathering in his eyes, or his hands that begged you to understand but you eventually gave him a hesitant nod.

with your confirmation, yoongi leans over his seat and speaks quickly “driver, please take us back to our place, we will pay you extra,” and your frown grows deeper as the cab hits a u-turn.

“yoongi, our guests will be arriving, what the fuck are you doing?”

“please, just trust me.”

and again, his voice shakes your anger, your stance, you sink back into the seat without a word.

yoongi feels his heart race as your home comes into view, his fingers instinctively reach out for the box in his pocket, but it doesn’t terrify him anymore, he feels the texture of it, he imagines the future in it and he hopes to all the powers in the world that this works out.

he pays the driver, waits for you to step out, and gently tugs you along with him to your home, your safe place, a space that was always for you two.

and yoongi’s lips twitch, they threaten to break out a large smile, one that would give him away, one that would ruin his plans but they’ve been ruined so many times already, what’s one more time?

he removes his hand from yours as you reach your living room and paces forward, bringing out a candle, shutting down some lights and you watch with your arms crossed, your lower lip caught between your teeth in an anxious action and you grow more confused by the minute.

he switches the last remaining light off and you see nothing.

“yoongi, what is going on?” you whine into the darkness, trying to place his figure with his footsteps, your foot taps repeatedly as you zero into the sounds around you.

then, light falls through, a soft, warm light from the candle you bought for yoongi.

and yoongi comes into the light, just as soft, just as warm, on one knee, a nervous twitch in his eyebrows as his hands shake in front of him.

there’s a ring in his hands, a shine that dims all the other light in the room except yoongi who remains the most radiant.

your jaw starts to tremble as you slowly take in yoongi’s smile, which is nervous but so present.

“love, i should’ve known you,” he starts, and you’re stepping forward, “i should’ve known that you wouldn’t want anyone else to see this, to witness us at this moment,” his voice scratches with emotion and you’re stepping forward again, “but now i do, and i only have one thing to say,” he takes in a shaky breath and the toe of your heels grazes his leather shoes, “i love you, and there’s not a person, not a disaster, not enough warnings, nothing can ever stop me from trying to get to you.”

you frown a bit; you assume he means everything you’ve been through together in your relationship and your heart drowns in itself.

“i love you and i’ll never stop loving you, i promise to spend the rest of my life being yours,” your chin shakes furiously as you try to hold your tears back, “as long as you are mine.”

“what do you say, do you want to make me the happiest man alive?” yoongi’s eyes glisten, and his mind flashes with images of your body laying still through the many nights he tried to save you but he pushes them away, you’re here right now, you’re here and he has one more chance to keep you safe.

“oh, yoongi,” you sigh and fall into his arms, onto the ground, and grip his body so tightly, that fresh tears gather in his eyes, you’re here, and yoongi’s here, and somehow, the night has taken a better turn than he ever expected.

as he looks around the house you’ve built together, your candle burning away and leaving the sweetest scent in the air, and there are no neon lights, there are no shitty family members, there is no one and nothing at all, it’s just you and him and yoongi hopes that he will never have to go back to those nights again.

“i’ll always be yours,” you sniff and rub your nose into his cheek, “darling i love you too but let me get this ring on you,” you laugh and nod, pushing away to let him slip the delicate, shiny band onto your finger.

“there you go,” he holds onto your finger and pulls you back into his arms, nuzzling his nose into your neck and you hum in pure happiness.

and both of you melt onto the floor, the warm light falls on you and yoongi’s heartbeat is in your ears when he asks, “do you like it?”

“i love it.” a single tear slips from your eyes.

yoongi’s smile falls.

-

a hand on his chest stirs him awake, yoongi’s eyes shoot open, his head twisting from side to side to see his surroundings.

his hands touch and feel the soft sheets covering his body and he looks to his right, it covers your body too and yoongi shakes his head at himself, a low laugh escaping him.

he stands up, groaning as he stretches his body and looks at your peaceful face.

yoongi lets his smile grow exponentially, walking over to push the curtains away and open into his balcony. he takes a deep breath as he leans over the railing and the scent of everything hits him, dulling his senses into a mild buzz.

“hey, handsome” hands sneak up on his torso and a shimmer blinks back from your fingers as they wrap around him, “good morning, my wife,” yoongi reaches for your hands and gives each of your fingers a kiss, making you giggle and push your head into his back.

“technically, it’s fiancé.”

“i think i prefer wife already.” and you hum contently, “me too.”

it was a new day.

his endless nights had finally come to an end and he never felt more grateful, he doesn’t think he will ever be able to explain how it happened, he doesn’t think anyone will understand the turmoil and anguish he felt in the past few hours, he doesn’t even think there’s an explanation but yoongi likes to brush it away, he has you and he doesn’t need an explanation, he just wants to keep you safe forever.

but he still had one problem.

“darling, don’t take this the wrong way, but can i block steve?”

Heyy!!! I've been reading your fics for a while and ngl THE STORIES ARE AMAZING!! they're freaking good 🤩 I just had a question actually 🙃 (sorry in advance for being dumb minded but....just had to know) curiosity kills the cat ya know 😭

At the end of the Jimin ff 'eliminated' were the words "eliminated" and "successful" for...Wooseok or........ 👀(I donno my mind's been running wild)

Have a great day btw and keep it up ✨

hello !! it always makes my day when you guys enjoy my work, thank you so much for reading and i hope you're having a lovely day :D

as for your question, it could very well be wooseok or it could be jimin and y/n 👀 i really wanted to let everyones imagination play around with the ending !

love you <3

paper hearts - p.jm.

genre: fluff, college au! f2l (9k)

summary: hearts fragile like paper, tear it or don’t? (fools!universe)

masterlist      series masterlist

jimin.

your first friend in college.

in a sea of unfamiliar faces, jimin’s face stood out like you were meant to see him, like you were supposed to feel your heart stop in place with how his smile made you feel when you introduced yourself or how he hold onto that smile while shaking your hand as slowly as he could just to tease you, and it didn’t take long for him to occupy a part of your heart.

well, at least as your best friend.

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