yoonmetogether

I'm delusional but at least I'm aware

hi, i'm claret! /'99/shy bi girl/i love to write but procrastination loves me more/

42 posts

Not In The Cards Teaser!

Not In the Cards teaser!

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader

genre: mafia, e2l

summary: yoongi realizes something about you, about himself, and runs. It's what he does best afterall.

warnings: implications of sex, angst, trauma, yoongi has a dark past. i hope y'all will stick around to find out, this is a long winded story i'm sorry! also reader uses a pseudonym as it’s relative to the plot.

minors dni

wc: 1k

teaser I part i. I part ii. I

When he wakes up next to you, it’s still dark out and you’re still fast asleep. Your face is just a silhouette to him, but he knows you’re beautiful, even in slumber. His heart jumps when he remembers you’re in his hoodie and he doesn’t think too much about how much he likes that.

How is it possible to like someone he just met this much? He hands it off to the (great fucking) sex he just had.

He does his best not to disturb you as he maneuvers out of bed and into the bathroom, needing to wash off remnants of sticky sex and sweat now that he’s cognizant. He waits until he’s started the shower to turn the lights on, ignoring his reflection as he takes off his favorite silver chain and places it on the shelf above the toilet to avoid any drains, dog tags swinging on his chest when he steps into the tub.

You're still sleeping when he returns so he quietly gets dressed, trying not to hate putting back on the clothes he wore yesterday now that's he's freshly showered but it can't be helped. A little of the sunrise has made the room a low mix of blue and grey so he can see you better as he goes to the nightstand to put on his watch. He looks over at you and smiles to himself when he hears you snoring softly. You shift on your stomach, facing away from him and just as he turns to leave the room for a morning cigarette, an etching on the back of your neck catches his attention. He has yet to put in his contacts and it's still not bright enough to see well so he slowly sits on the edge of the bed to have a better look, curiosity piqued. It has the shape of some kind of bird or plane, something with wings so he leans a little closer, pressing a fist on the mattress to hold himself up. He expects the wings to be that of an angel, a nod to your name, but when he finally sees what it is, albeit a bit blurry, his heart stops and drops to his stomach.

It is indeed a small bird but just the skeleton of one. A sparrow. And it's drawn as if it were falling from the sky. To anyone else, it's meaning is ambiguous, but to him, to others like him, it's the symbol of enormous power, made by blood, money and greed. He would know - he has a tattoo that speaks to the gang he got caught up in as a teenager that branded him to force his loyalty. A gang that could be shredded and not missed by the organization that owns the symbol tatted on your neck.

Shit. Being who he is, relying solely on intuition and reading between the lines, he had a gut feeling that you may not be as innocent as you seem. To the average bystander, maybe. But not to him. The swallow’s skeleton on your neck confirms it.

And for the first time in a long time, he's terrified.

Before seeing that, he'd already considered leaving before you wake up, doubting what good would come out of him staying. You don't need someone marred and sinful like him in your life.

But now if you find out about the coiled cobra on the back of his left shoulder, one of the many reasons he didn't take his shirt off or keep the lights on once you both fell into bed, he’ll be screwed for a whole different reason.

So he makes the decision that there's nothing for him to do but leave you in the dust and never look back, tacking this night onto the murky cloud of his many mistakes. Even though it makes his heart ache. All the more reason to coat it in tar, making it impenetrable to him and anyone else. In the weeks to come, he'll force it to forget you.

But it will only make him colder and bitter. Forlorn. He fucking deserves that.

He grabs his phone and his keys he left on the couch and hauls ass to the door and down to the lobby so you don't wake in time to see him disappear without a trace. But in the rush, he forgets the one thing most precious to him that he took off before he showered. It isn't until he's zipping away on his motorcycle towards the ferry, blaming the cold and whipping wind for the tears piercing the corners of his eyes, that he realizes and curses himself. The one thing he was supposed to never lose, to always take care of, he forgot. His mother was right - if his grandfather was still around he’d be so disappointed. For the rest of the way home, his mother’s words ring in his ears - he’s a fuck up who’s lost all chances to redeem himself. No one will want him. So going forth, that's what he carries with him every day when you come up in his thoughts, no matter how hard he tries to keep you out.

It's better this way. He did you a favor.

..............................................................................................................................

When you wake up alone, it’s not the hangover that makes you feel nauseous.

You rush to the convenience store for a morning after pill, because you’ll be damned if you get knocked up, especially not by someone who doesn’t have the fucking decency to leave a note, much less a phone number, after a night like that.

Fuck him. Fuck him big time for being just like everyone else. You know what your father and brothers would say - that's what you get for letting your guard down. Naive and weak-minded people only get themselves hurt. So just like you have done countless times, you pick up the pieces of your heart that were stomped and crushed and left for dead, and bury them in the recesses of your mind, keeping all of your pain to yourself. Pain is weakness, especially the kind you can’t see on your skin, and weakness is forbidden in the blood you share with your family. Maybe now the lesson will stick. But for the years to come, his eyes, his touch, his voice will haunt you in your dreams and your nightmares. You hope to all hell you never see him again.

If you do, he better watch his fucking back.

part i. coming soon!!! masterlist

thank you for reading! this is all very nerve wracking to me bc i'm an anxious girl and a perfectionist when it comes to writing and i kind of pulled this scene outta my ass so i could get a teaser out there so i'm not 100% confident about it.

but let me know what you think here or leave a comment if you want.

xxx - claret

p.s. this is what i imagine reader's tattoo looks like

p.p.s. does anyone know how to make the line breaks, like how they’re uploaded as photos? I’ve tried cropping a horizontal photo to be really thin but it doesn’t let me and then i just have a line in the middle of a white block and it looks wack and I don’t want to break up scenes with a bunch of periods lol.

thanks k bye :)

Not In The Cards Teaser!

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