Waiting For Superman

Waiting For Superman

Genre: Superhero AU, Comic Book AU?, Journalist Namjoon, Journalist OC, best friends to lovers, Action, Angst if you squint, Fluff

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, injury, hospitalization, bombings, hostage situations, kidnapping, uses chloroform to make someone unconscious, alcohol, physics lol

Synopsis: After your father, one of the top antimatter scientists is killed in his laboratory by villain Outlier, you and your best friend, Namjoon survive the only known antimatter bomb, you both go on to be two of the top journalists in Metropolis. Only, there’s something off about you that most people can’t put their finger on. Namjoon is the only one who notices, not even you know your biggest secret. Hoping to protect you from Outlier, Namjoon also guards a secret of his own.

Note: This is the beginning of a new AU series. This is also in the same universe as my Jin imagine, Heartbreak Weather. This story will continue in the background of future installments.

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"Damn," you said, looking through the article proposals for the week. "I have five proposals to do a story on the two weathermen that got together. Is nothing else interesting happening in Metropolis?" Reaching into your desk, you pulled out your lunch consisting only of a slightly too brown banana. You frowned. "I hate to say it, but it's really too bad that Outlier has been so quiet lately."

Namjoon chuckled. "You'd wish for a little peril in Metropolis if it made a good story." His lips curled upward and he adjusted his slightly too large glasses.

You smiled at your head writer's sarcasm. "Just a little peril. Not too much." Turning around to place the accepted and rejected proposals in their respective boxes, you returned to find a bright yellow banana sitting on your desk. It made you pause, but you shrugged as you peeled it open. "Besides, Antimatter Man always stops whatever his antics are."

"It's not always Antimatter Man."

You hummed in response, already marking up an article in red pen. "Most of the time though."

The conversation lulled, but it didn't feel awkward. You'd worked with Namjoon for nearly three years now, but known him much longer. You were his soundboard and he was your common sense.

"Maybe we do a piece on his recent quietness?"

You looked up. Namjoon already met your eyes. He sat with one leg on top of the other, forming a triangle and his arms crossed over his chest. You'd noticed the way his clothes began to fit tighter, stretching over new muscles. It surprised you. Namjoon never seemed like the athletic type. You were more likely to find him studying physics at the city library for his newest piece on Antimatter Man than in the gym building a physique rivaling a marble statue.

"That seems like a good idea." The pen pressed to your lips you didn't notice the way the ink blotted against your lips. "You wanna take it on?"

"Sure." He pushes one leg off the other and stands up. "I'll try to have it to you by morning."

You nod, trusting him fully to have his piece ready for the morning edition. He moved towards the door and you felt as he paused. Even though you weren't looking at him, you could tell the way he stood, with his hand gripping the door frame, his body half in, half out.

"Don't stay too late, Y/N. He might be quiet now, but you know that won't be forever."

You did know. Maybe more than anybody.

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Outlier first started terrorizing the Greater Metropolis area when you were twelve. It started off typical. A few particularly successful bank robberies netted him more than enough money for a lifetime. If it were you, you would've taken the money and moved far away, lived out the rest of your days peacefully. But, Outlier didn't want just the money. 

When you were fifteen, however, it all changed. 

It was nearly 9 pm. Your father had not returned home from work. It wasn't all around unusual. He often pulled long hours at the lab. But you felt an itch at the back of your spine. Like a spider crawling up each vertebrae like a ladder. 

You called Namjoon. He was the only person you knew with a car, and the only one you knew wouldn't ask too many questions. Twenty minutes later, his headlights showed through the curtains of your bedroom. 

"Hey," he said. His voice greeted you, full of exhaustion and the buoy that had bounced back and forth in the water between you. 

Namjoon was your longest friend. You met in Kindergarten when you'd come across Namjoon in the back corner of the playground. Pushed against the pavement, two second graders tore off his glasses and put them on, mimicking his front teeth that stuck out before he got braces in high school.

You'd chased them off, managing to pick up his glasses off the ground. They were still broken, but you helped Namjoon tape them to get through the rest of the day. Since that day, you'd become almost inseparable. That was until you got a boyfriend.

You, of course, accused Namjoon of being jealous when he didn't immediately take to the idea of you and Vincent. Though, despite the accusation, you knew it was far from the truth. It wasn't hard to see that Vincent was bad for you. He was the reason your grades began to drop, why you knew the familiar burn of whiskey down your throat, and why were spending that night--Valentine's Day--alone.

"You haven't heard anything from him?" Namjoon backed out of your driveway before you even managed to get the seatbelt hooked. 

You shook your head. "He normally calls if he's running late."

It takes another twenty minutes to reach your dad's work. Located just outside the city, you could see Longevity Labs ten minutes before you reach it. Up on a hill, it was agonizing watching the building cycle in and out of view with every turn and switchback.

When you get there, you look up to the fourth floor where your father's lab was. The lights were still on and you felt the coil in your chest unravel a little. Though not completely. 

The elevators in Longevity Labs had been broken for years now and you didn't pay them any mind as you walked to the staircase and climbed the four floors. Namjoon stayed close behind, though you didn't speak. It wasn't the first time the two of you had come to the labs together when you'd become worried. After losing your mom when you were young, a burr of worry attached itself to your heart and poked you when your father wasn't home by eight.

The metal of the doorknob felt warm. There were plenty of reasons for that, you rationalized. Your father was one of the top scientists in Metropolis, he worked with all sorts of dangerous things that could need a warm environment, or cause one.

You pushed the door open and met your father's eyes. They were wide open and empty. A silent scream falling from his wide open mouth. Your vision blurred and the thing you remember next is feeling Namjoon's hand on your shoulder as his voice elevated. It was only then you noticed that you weren't alone.

"What are you doing here?" Namjoon asked, his voice like the bark of a guard dog. It surprised you. For a boy of barely sixteen at the time, it felt like he suddenly was a man standing beside you. You were still just a tiny girl.

The man wore a mask. Of course he wore a mask. It was white with two diamond shapes for the eyes, only revealing a small bit of his pupil. The man didn't speak when he opened his hand, a metallic orb drifting upwards. He didn't throw it, but the orb moved quickly, like it was falling.

It was only later you learned that it was rigged to move upward like that. Real antimatter would act just like regular matter, nearly indecipherable. This--while true antimatter--was meant to hold your attention long enough. 

The explosion pushed you towards the ceiling. You woke up to a firefighter reaching for your hand. It was only when you took it and tried to place your feet on the ground that you noticed that you and Namjoon ended up pushed through the wall and into the vent system near the ceiling. He wasn't fully awake, yet his arms still reached for you after you were peeled away from his body.

The two of you were the only known survivors of an antimatter bomb. Well, it was more like a grenade. Your father's lab, body, and work was largely destroyed in the explosion, but for some reason, you and Namjoon survived. It's wide believed that there was something wrong with the bomb. That it didn't attack your living cells. 

You and Namjoon did not come out unscathed. Somehow, you got off fairly easy with a broken collarbone, a concussion, and a few deep cuts around your body. Namjoon, on the other hand, never fully awoke for a week. He'd broken three ribs, one of his lungs collapsed, his head injury much worse than yours, permanent damage to his spine. When he woke a week later, you wanted to envelope him in a hug and never let go. 

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Namjoon found you curled up in the newspaper archives at midnight. He was the only one who knew your Valentine's Day ritual. He moved the papers from your lap and took the glass of wine from your hand before it spilled. Just like every year, the paper was open to your dad's obituary and the news coverage of the explosion.

The edges of the paper were brown and crisped as if they were sixty years old instead of ten. His brow furrowed as he touched them. Between his fingers, the brown edges lightened as he brought them towards the light. 

Ever since that night, your mission was to expose Outlier. You knew he wasn't some superhuman. Your dad worked with antimatter to harness its capabilities for good. For medical applications and using its destruction for renewable energy. Outlier wanted to use antimatter in the way everyone feared. To destroy. 

As he moved the paper with your father's smiling face, he saw another, a jolt running down his spine. The headline took up almost half the page, "New Hero Emerges In Fight Against Outlier."

Outlier's antics became more calculated. Everyone knew he had the capability to use antimatter, but his subsequent movements involved raids of laboratories outside the city and taking a graduate student hostage. No one else died.

It was during the hostage situation that Antimatter first saved the day. It was around a year after your attack and Antimatter Man successfully infiltrated the laboratory and got the hostage to safety before the entire lab exploded. It was only in his next act of heroism that the city realized he was more than just someone who risked his life to save someone. He had powers.

Next time, Antimatter Man disabled a device strapped around a victim's neck with just a touch. It was determined to be a miniature explosive that would've destroyed the man had it gone off. The hero could manipulate antimatter. Destroy it--and was later determined--create it. 

When Antimatter Man caused an explosion in an alleyway, he was lucky that only one bystander died. Like all the previous times he disabled one of Outlier's antimatter devices, he placed his hand on top of it. Instead of feeling the molecules burst like boba, he felt an energy build until it exploded.

Outlier purposely placed a more standard bomb that would explode in the presence of antimatter. It was a test. One Antimatter Man hadn't anticipated. In fact, it was rumored the hero had no idea the full scale of his abilities until that moment. The only reason he came out unscathed is because he was able to clock himself in antimatter to prevent the explosion from destroying him.

Namjoon knew that Outlier knew who Antimatter Man was. While the general public may not know that Antimatter Man was a victim of Outlier, or that he used chunky glasses and the Metropolis Daily to control the public's view of Kim Namjoon and Antimatter Man. Outlier was the only one who knew, not even you.

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The authorities always told you that Outlier may come back. Your father was the most prominent scientist working with antimatter technology and there were likely things Outlier had not figured out yet. He may come for your father's notes. Yet, he never did. 

You weren't too worried about it anymore. It wasn't as if Outlier had a personal vendetta against you or your father. You hadn't seen his face. You'd practically passed out when you saw him, and probably would've had he not dropped the grenade when you locked eyes.

Still, you always watched your back when you walked from the Metropolis Daily office to your apartment. It was only a few blocks, but normally traversed after dark. Sometimes Namjoon came with you, though most of the time you persuaded him to just go back to his own place. Especially this night, you did not want Namjoon to know you didn't plan on going home.

Normally, when you hid your plans from Namjoon, it was because you were heading somewhere dangerous for research. Like the time you drove out into the forest on your own in search of Outlier's supposed hide out, or the time you decided to follow a man suspected to be Antimatter Man. Even as an editor, you still wrote, tending to keep the most hard hitting stories for yourself. Besides, few of your journalists were willing to possibly get close to Outlier. You'd survived once, you felt you could again.

However, this night, you were headed to the club. There was no reason or ulterior motive. You simply wanted to let loose. You knew Namjoon wouldn't like it. He wasn't smothering, he let you make your own decisions and do what you want, but his disapproving and worried looks always cut you deep.

You knew it all came from a place of concern. He always told you how thankful he was that he was with you that night. But, you always fit a pit of guilt in your stomach. Namjoon nearly died because of you. There was no way you were going to let that happen again. 

You'd changed into something sexier before leaving the office, leaving your office clothes in your desk drawer. You always kept an extra set there any way in case you needed to pull an all nighter at the office. It was rare you got to go out and enjoy yourself on a Friday night and you already felt the contentment rising in you as you approached the club and heard the rhythmic thud of bass.

This particular club wasn't one with a line of people which was why you chose it. There was no wait. You could get in and out easily and without fuss. When you didn't get to do things like this often, you wanted to truly get to do them. 

It wasn't long until you lost yourself. In the crowd. In the music. In your thoughts. Or rather, lack thereof. This is why people liked clubbing and loud music. It drowned out your worries. Everything became a constant hum in the back of your skull, where, for once, you could ignore it.

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Namjoon had suspicions. It started when no fruit stayed ripe around you. The way that the microwave always sparked when you tried to make popcorn. And no matter what you did, it always ended up just a little too burnt. Nothing you did was ever quite right, but never quite wrong. 

He always found his way to you whether he wanted to or not. It was as if the particles in his body were attracted to yours. Recognized them like their reflection. You got into a car accident two years ago and Namjoon had left work early that day, having felt an aching in his lower stomach. Fearing appendicitis, his supervisor sent him home. 

He'd walked a block when he came upon it. You were sitting on the sidewalk, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair and your feet pointed towards each other. Something caused you to look up then. Namjoon wondered if you had the same uncanny sense he did, if you could put together when the other was in peril. When you saw him, your arms came around him and your shaking body burrowed into his for warmth.

When he was eighteen and you were seventeen, the two of you briefly shared an apartment. Namjoon had started taking classes at the university and you were in your senior year. While your dad had left everything to you--you were all he had--you sold the house a year after your dad died, unable to live there alone. 

You'd come home one night after a basketball game. Namjoon always encouraged you to go, wanting you to feel like a normal high schooler. Though, while he was well intentioned, the efforts were ultimately fraught. You'd left at halftime because you think the concession stand hot dog made you sick. 

Yet, when you came home. You found Joon spread out on the couch, bottles of alcohol spread around him like the crime scene markers around your dad's body. He'll never forget the light touches on his shoulder, then forehead, then bicep. The way it reminded him of feeling just a little too warm on a winter's night, pleasantly so.

His feet brought him to the entrance of the club and his heart sped up. You never came to places like this, but Namjoon knew you had the secret desire to. You'd always loved to dance even though you weren't particularly skilled at it. He walked inside, loitering at the edges of the dancefloor. 

Namjoon had to keep himself from sneering at the sweaty bodies and couples dry humping each other. He never really understood the appeal of clubs. His eyes flit across the crowd, spotting your hair first. Even though you'd worked all day, you looked beautiful still. Your hair a little frizzier than usual and he recognized the tiredness in the way your moved your body to the bet. It wasn't lazy exactly, but it didn't have the same gusto as some of the others around you. 

He wondered if his feeling had been off. Maybe he was just too on edge lately because Outlier had gone so silent. There was a parasite in the back of his mind that fed him anxieties. Was he planning something big? Had he finally figured out to build the bomb he wanted to? Was he committing lower level crimes Namjoon wasn't privy to? Did he know about you? 

Watching you dance, he shook his head. You weren't in any danger. It was just in his head this time. Turning with his hands in his pockets, he took two steps towards the door of the club when he looked back and caught a glimpse of your smile. It was rare these days and not something he wanted to ruin with his worries.

With a small smile of his own, Namjoon left.

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You ended the night at around two a.m. You'd had two drinks, not enough to make you stumble out on the sidewalk, but enough to make you feel like you were. Taking off your heels, you gripped them in your fingers as you walked back towards your place. The walk should take fifteen minutes, but in your current state, you found yourself sauntering along as if the streets of Metropolis were perfectly safe in the wee hours of the morning.

If it were not for the alcohol in your system, maybe you would've sensed the presence behind you. Maybe you would've seen the dark shadow lingering behind you for the last two blocks. It wasn't until a hand clamped over your mouth, the other clamped around your jaw to prevent you from biting down on your abductor's fingers.

It was then you tasted it on your tongue. The rough, bleached taste of fabric. Something mildly sweet. Like laughing gas at the dentist.

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Namjoon prided himself on his intuition. When you called him the night your father died, he almost ignored it. Nearly blinded by his teenage jealousy, it was a small pain in his stomach that made him answer his phone and rush to you that night. 

He had the same pain now. Just below his ribs this time, he rubbed his fingers along the cotton of his button down as he glanced at your dark, empty office. You hadn't come in for work this morning. No one heard from you last night or this morning. And, despite this being unlike you, no one else seemed concerned. 

You'd gained a reputation for your independence and ability to take care of yourself. You hardly ever asked for help--and while your own mind tended to think that an admirable trait--it only made Namjoon's mind race more. However, this made everyone else go about their day. 

A half hour later Namjoon stood in his boss' office. "I'm not feeling well. Would it be all right if I took the rest of the day off?"

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When you came to, you immediately noticed the lack of rough rope around your wrists or ankles. When you opened your eyes, however, you noticed the white cuffs floating half an inch from your skin. One cuff circled each wrist and another two around each ankle. You knew enough about how Outlier operated to know about these.

First seen in his second major hostage situation following your father's death, these cuffs did not touch the skin. But, if the hostage moves or tries to escape and their skin brushes the edge of the cuff, the invisible antimatter will attack the matter rich skin, flesh, and bone.

The first hostage to have worn these cuffs lost a hand before she understood how they worked. Now, Outlier gained easy compliance with even just the threat of his antimatter cuffs.

"Ah, so you've heard of them?"

Outlier sat across the room. HIs diamond slit mask shrouded in the shadows of the dimly lit room. It made your heartbeat easier knowing he still wore the mask. It meant he didn't plan on killing you. At least, not yet.

"You know--" Outlier paused, a soft lilt in his voice that annoyed you. Normally, the sort of singsong quality he had would make you flutter your lashes at him across the bar. Outlier's voice though, sounded like a children's song slowed down and played backward. "The technology for those cuffs I developed from some of your dad's research."

He stood up, moving closer. "The ability to suspend antimatter around a given object using the only gas in our world that antimatter cannot destroy. Quite brilliant, really."

As a teenager, you really did not know much about your father's research beyond its main goal: make the world better using the one thing that could destroy it. Your father had seen success in his lifetime. The use of antimatter in some medical technology aided the treatment of cancer and detecting major illnesses. It had saved lives. 

You'd looked over a bit of your father's surviving research, of course. The things you had mainly consisted of experiment notes, a few crude sketches, and one report about a failed experiment. Nothing of value, really. It's why you always brushed off Namjoon's worries that Outlier would come back for it. What did you have that he would want?

"I imagine you know why you're here." Outlier was now only a few feet away and he leaned leisurely against the wall as if he were an old friend visiting your new apartment.

"No, I--"

"But, my assistant has something they want from you first."

Your head turned to the darkness in front of you from where Outlier had originally come. You made out the figure of another man. Smaller in stature, he shuffled slowly into the dim light. He didn't wear a mask, his hair falling into his eyes. 

"My report," he said, his voice hesitant, almost scared. If you didn't know any better you'd believe he was the one being held hostage by Outlier. "Do you have it?"

"Your report?" Your brow furrowed as you thought about the one report you had. It detailed only the attempt to create an anti-oxygen particle. "I-I don't think so." 

The air in the room became stuffy. Outlier seemed not to believe you, his arms crossed. You had no idea who Outlier's assistant was, but you were certain that whatever experiment he was a part of, your father would never have done something to make this man resent him. You almost wished you had the report.

"My assistant, you see," Outlier began in his singsong voice. "Suffers from a particular ailment brought on by one of your father's experiments. It tends to leave people, breathless. Isn't that right, Yoongi?"

The other man--Yoongi--glared at his supervillain boss. Something turned in your stomach. Yoongi didn't appear to be overly loyal to Outlier. Maybe he would be your key to getting out of this. 

"Well, that was merely a favor. His report was never recovered and I thought there was a chance you may have it. But, now onto the real reason I've brought you here."Outlier crouched down, coming face to face with you. "Now, for an experiment of my own."

From his jacket pocket, he pulled out a short rod. Holding it above your bindings, the cuff fell limp and motionless against your wrist. You nearly flinched, worried it would begin cutting through the skin. But, it didn't.

Despite his mask, Outlier's form seemed to perk up at that. As if he had the first evidence that his hypothesis was true. With his thick, black gloves, that you were assumed were made of antimatterium--an element created by your father to make the handling of antimatter safer--Outlier slipped the ring off your wrist.

Reaching pack into his pocket, he pulled out a new ring and placed it around your wrist. It looked identical to the last, white, vaguely metallic with a visible field of matter--or possibly antimatter--surrounding it. Stretching it over your hand, he slipped it around your wrist. 

"It should only take a few minutes." 

Outlier stood back up.

"What's the point of this?" you asked, becoming more frustrated that nothing was happening. You knew you should be thankful you are still alive. It would be easy enough to kill you and rummage through your apartment for whatever he wants. Yet, for some reason, he refrained.

"I imagine you can figure that out on your own." Outlier watched the ring around your wrist carefully. "My biggest foe can only have a mind that rivals my own."

Biggest foe? Your mind turned over the possible meanings of his words until it clicked. "You think I'm Antimatter Man?"

Outlier didn't flinch. "Of course."

You laughed. You couldn't help yourself. While you'd never come to face to face with Antimatter Man himself, it was obvious that the superhero was easily many inches taller than you and his shoulders were easily the entire length of one of your arms.

"Me? Of all people?"

"It would make some sense, wouldn't it? Very few people survive the blast from an antimatter bomb. And those that do often acquire certain--capabilities."

You shook your head. "But, I'm not the only one who survived, Nam--"

You were interrupted by the sound of Outlier's surprise as well as the sound of banging from outside the room. Yoongi--who hadn't been paying attention--suddenly popped his head up and glanced towards the door to your left. With so many things happening at once, you chose to only focus on where Outlier's eyes went.

The ring around your wrist had begun to crumble like cheese. Bits falling off as they became too heavy or lost their support. Squinting your eyes you wondered how this was possible. You didn't get a chance to hop on your train of thought before the door burst open.

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Antimatter Man burst into the room. He never wore a specific costume like superheroes were often penchant to do. Normally, he just wore an all black ensemble and a mask, obscuring most of his face. A hat usually then kept his hair hidden, beyond the tiny wisps of light brown you saw peeking out from underneath.

"Let her go," he said, his voice matter of fact and deep and familiar. 

Outlier--to his credit--did seem genuinely surprised. Though, he bounced back quickly, ordering Yoongi to shut the door. The other man did so slowly and pathetically, letting it scrape against the splintered hardwood floor.

"Hmm, well, it would seem your presence here would confirm that my original hypothesis was wrong." A pause and he points down at you. "But I may have a new one."

For some reason, it took you this long to put together that you were destroyed the ring imprisoning your left wrist. Why hadn't the first one crumbled into nothingness like this?

"That ring is made of matter. Like most things in our universe. However, it is designed to crumble when it detects antimatter energy. She produces antimatter energy. Probably in small amounts which is why she and the world haven't destroyed each other yet." He looks back at Antimatter Man who's dark eyes are flitting between you and the villain. "Much like you, my nemesis. You destroy all antimatter you come into contact with through the latent production of pure matter. You really should correct the press on the name, you know?"

Your mind swirled. You created latent antimatter? Did this explain why everything in your life with a timespan seemed to die or wilt quicker than usual? Why people found you just slightly off?

"She has the potential to be my greatest weapon. If I can harness the antimatter inside of her. Determine whatever is producing it, I would no longer need to spend weeks producing such tiny amounts." You were certain that if his mask was off, his face would be lit up like a child's. His hand reached for yours and he pulled you up off the ground. The cuffs shifted with you since both you and the antimatter cuffs were under his control. Would they even work on you though?

Outlier held your back against his chest. It surprised you how much he felt like a normal man. Of course, that's all he was in the grand scheme of it all. Outlier was nothing more than a man desperate for something.

"No!" Antimatter Man sounded almost desperate. "Don't hurt her! She's been through enough. She didn't ask for it. She didn't even know about it. Please just let her go. I'll--" You can also hear the thoughts turning in his mind. "You can have me instead."

Your eyes went wide. Antimatter Man seldom placed himself directly into Outlier's hands. He was known for foiling the villain's plans remotely, sometimes even not showing up to the scene. And, even when they did come face to face, it was usually brief. What made this so different? What made you different?

Also, why did he talk like he knew you? Sure, your story had been in the papers a long time ago? You occasionally met a stranger who would recognize your name, but it was becoming less and less common with every passing year. How did Antimatter Man know you?

Outlier's grip on you tightened. One of his hands reached down for your wrist and held it up. Taking hold of the cuff, he brought it within millimeters of your skin. 

"Now, let's be civilized about this. If you were truly worried about this girl because of her past, you wouldn't have let me take her in the first place."

Antimatter Man gulped. His body was stiff and his hands opened and closed. It reminded you of how Namjoon kept a stress ball in his desk drawer for whenever he had a stressful day. He'd squeeze and release it a few times in time with his breaths, getting out of his head. 

"Yoongi," Antimatter Man said, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. "Open the back door for me would you?"

Yoongi didn't move. His gaze was hard, but not in a way that felt piercing or like he was looking through you. He was thinking.

"Yoongi," the villain said again. 

Yoongi didn't move.

Antimatter Man took the opportunity and lunged. It was a risk. The cuffs still encircled one wrist and both your ankles. As you fell backward, it felt as if the world moved in slow motion, you watched your wrist fling back, hitting the ring of the cuff and bounce back, completely unharmed.

You land on Outlier's chest, but his grip on you loosened. You got up but immediately felt your legs give out. Someone caught you and you looked up to see Yoongi looking down at you. He didn't speak, or really show any expression beyond motioning to the back of the room where there was a door concealed within the wall. Likely, this was the back door Outlier wanted him to open earlier.

Even though Yoongi was working with Outlier, you felt like you were free. Something told you he was helping you. The man obviously did not swear much loyalty to the villain. You reached and pulled the cuffs off, causing Yoongi's eyes to widen and you felt his arms waver as you tossed them in Outlier's direction, hoping one would at least chink his antimatter protective armor.

Someone winced. And you recognized it. It was the same pain you heard that night when the bomb went off and you felt Namjoon's body wrap around yours. When he woke up in the hospital and you couldn't help but hug him, forgetting he had multiple broken ribs. Even in his pain, he didn't stop you.

"Oh my God." 

You wrestled out of Yoongi's grasp. Outlier--seemingly not really wanting to fight--ran as soon as Antimatter Man fell to the ground. The cuff had sliced through his clothes and a gash opened on his leg. You crouched next to him and reached for the gash, applying as much pressure as possible 

"It's not as bad as it looks. It'll heal by tomorrow."

You looked up at him and met his eyes. It was him. It had to be. You reached up for the edge of the mask. He didn't stop you, his dark eyes watching your hand as you reached up and revealed his identity. 

Namjoon.

team mint choco where yall at

Sutures - Chapter Four: Urge

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of hickeys, Sumi’s ex is a dick, making out, heavy petting, smut lead up, smut themes

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.

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You hugged Kitty to your chest and made your way to the kitchen. You heard the rustling of pots and pans and Jimin's laughter. Even though you'd only known Jimin for under two days, his laughter quickly become one of your favorite sounds, something that never made you smile. However, most of the time you weren't horrendously hungover. 

"Morning," you said, trying to muster a small smile, even though your head was pounding. 

Three of the seven boys who lived in the dorm turned to look at you. Yoongi was already sat at the table, scrolling through his phone, a bowl of fruit in front of him. Hoseok was in the kitchen and Jimin sat on the opposite end of the table from Yoongi, his legs swinging freely. You smiled at how close the boys were and how comfortable they were with each other. It made you feel even worse for intruding in on the bond. 

"Good morning," the boys said, nearly in unison. 

"Jimin," you said. "Did you put Kitty in the box to come here?"

Jimin shook his head, glancing down to the stuffed cat you held in your arms. 

"No, I put him in the donation pile as you wanted." 

"Huh," you said, holding Kitty out in front of you and smiling at her fondly. "Well, I'm glad she found her way here anyway." 

Jimin smiled at you, his eyes some mixture of happiness for you and worry. 

"Did we get internet back?"

The boys exchanged glances and nodded. 

You looked over to Yoongi, who was now looking up from his phone. His dark eyes were boring straight into you, and you suspected he already knew what you were going to ask. 

"Did you find out who got the shoes?"

The room fell silent, except for the tap which Hoseok accidentally left on as he had looked up at you. You didn't know who it could possibly be that would elicit such a response, but Yoongi's face softened as he stood. 

"Park Minki."

You blinked in disbelief, wondering if the hangover had somehow messed with your hearing. Yoongi's eyes were softer, the softest they had been in the seventy two hours you'd known him.

"My ex?" you choked out. 

Yoongi nodded.

---

You took a deep breath as you stood in front of the full length mirror and strategically placed the scarf around your neck. The bruises weren't as prominent as the day before, but you feared Minki would still notice them. The rest of your outfit was quite simple, a pair of jeans and a nice top. You wore your hair down, hoping it too would help hide Yoongi's marks on your neck. 

When you'd broken up with Minki, you'd thought you'd never have to see the boy again. While you still loved him, you knew seeing him again would hurt you, but you wanted to handle this yourself. For whatever reason bought the shoes, you knew it couldn't be settled with money. He wanted to see you again, wanted you to see him again. 

While you normally would just forget the shoes, Yoongi's reputation was on the line. And yours for that matter. You may not be an idol, but the fact you were connected to one, could be enough to destroy you.

"Do you really want to look that good for your ex?" Yoongi said, entering your bedroom with a soft knock on your open door. He was dressed wearing just a simple sweatshirt and jeans, a snapback covering his dyed hair and a mask pulled down under his chin. 

"What? Jealous?" you smirked, giving up on arranging the scarf and turning to face him. 

"No," he said. "I just thought you didn't care what he thought anymore." He walked closer to you, the faint smell of his cologne tickling your nose. His fingers reached up and moved the scarf so it that it covered the half of a hickey that was still partially visible. "Obviously, you do."

He stepped away from you the scent of him still lingering in his place. You were almost disappointed when he stepped away, wishing you could fall asleep in his scent.

"I'm sorry you have to come," you said. "And miss out on work."

"I can work when we get back," he said. "Besides, it would be a whole lot worse for both of us if I didn't come." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a mask. "Wear this, if we run into any paparazzi it will be harder for them to identify you."

You nodded, looping the mask around your ears and pulling it up over your mouth. Yoongi pulled his up and nodded to you, asking if you were ready. 

You nodded in affirmation, but you felt the butterflies in your stomach. You didn't think you would ever be ready.

---

You entered the cafe first. You spotted Minki almost immediately, he was seated at a table near the middle, you could see the shoes placed on the table. You already felt a twinge of embarrassment, knowing he'd displayed them so publicly.

You pulled down the mask and sat down across from him. His mouth widened into a smirk when you sat down, something you used to love about him, but now it just felt like he was mocking you.

"You look nice," he said.

"Thanks," you said, trying not to meet his gaze.

You noticed Yoongi walk past you and sit at a table behind Minki's view, but facing you. You met his eyes momentarily but didn't want Minki to see your wandering gaze. Minki had a temper occasionally, and while he had never hurt you, you feared he wouldn't hesitate to hurt Yoongi. And even though you and Yoongi weren't exactly friends, you still didn't want him to get hurt because of you.     

"So, why'd you leave the shoes at the bar?" Minki asked. 

"Does that really matter, Minki? They're mine, I just want them back."

"You fucked him? Didn't you?" 

You clenched your fists and looked at the black pumps sitting on the table. You sighed and tried to collect your thoughts. 

"How'd you know they were mine?"

"You don't think I wouldn't recognize the shoes I bought you for your birthday last year?" The smirk was on his face again, like a mosquito that you wanted to kill, but that was just out of your reach. "I picked them out especially for you, remember?"

You did remember. How he told you that he went to multiple shoes, trying to find the perfect shoes. Settling on a pair of black pumps. "Simple, like you," he'd said when he gave them to you. 

"Now that we've broken up, they're mine now? Since I paid for them?"

You wanted to bang your fists down on the table and scream at him until he was as scared of you as you were of him. You wanted to swat the smirk from his face. You wanted to point out all the things you'd bought him. All the baseball game tickets. The T-shirt he wore. Half the down payment on his car. 

"I don't care," you said. "Do whatever you want with them. I just want to leave."

Minki softened then. He'd seen you break down multiple times before, he knew the signs. The way you hid your face. The way you tried to curl yourself into a ball, no matter where you were.

"He's here, isn't here?" your ex asked. "You're not mine to protect anymore." His hand cupped the fabric of your knee. You felt shivers run down your spine as tears pricked at your eyes.

You noticed his eyes wandering down to your neck and where the scarf had moved aside. There was no sense in trying to deny what the scarf revealed.

"Huh," he said. "You never let me do that." 

"I never was yours to protect," you said, your eyes red and tear stained, trying to ignore his last comment. You reached down and moved his hand from your knee. You felt his palm beneath your fingertips and the sensation ran through your body. You felt his hands on you again, your body grew warm, but not in the pleasant way. You needed to get out. Without any more thought, you grabbed your things and ran from the cafe.

---

Yoongi's body stiffened as he watched Minki's hand grab your knee. He wanted to push Minki away from you, shield you from ever having to feel the other boy's touch again. He saw the way your cheek's flushed, although not in the cute way. He saw as you tried to shift away, he could feel your discomfort. 

Your scarf had slipped slightly, revealing part of one of the bruises. Yoongi knew the other boy saw based on the way he shifted forward.

"Huh, you never let me do that," the other boy said. 

Yoongi's jaw stiffened. Part of him wanted to rip him apart for bringing attention to something that you obviously hadn't wanted Minki to see, but there was a small buzzing inside of him. One night and you allowed him to do something you'd never allowed your previous boyfriend to do for years. He repressed the pride as you tearfully ran out the door. 

Yoongi waited a moment to get up and follow you, not wanting to draw too much attention. He made eye contact with Minki as he walked past, pulling down his mask momentarily, but pulling it back up as he walked through the door of the cafe. 

---

You curled yourself into the car seat, pulling your legs into your stomach and hiding your face against the car door. You put on your seatbelt, knowing Yoongi would follow you out. 

Yoongi opened the car door a minute or so later, greeting the driver as he did so and telling him to take both of you back to the dorm. He pulled down his mask and put on his seatbelt. 

"Why do you let him talk to you like that?" Yoongi asked. 

You scoffed, trying to hide your tears. The last thing you wanted was Yoongi to see your tears, you felt like if you allowed yourself to cry in front of him, it would somehow strengthen the bond. Yoongi was so strong and allowing him to see your weakness terrified you.

"He's my ex for a reason, okay?" 

"Well, we still need to get the shoes back somehow. You sure money won't work with him?"

"He just wants to humiliate me," you said, choking slightly on the words. "Do we really need to get them back? I mean, they're just shoes. How much harm could really be done?"

Yoongi's eyes widened and his form stiffened. 

"You really don't realize, do you?" He looked out the window in slight disbelief before turning back to you. "I guess, this explains how you didn't recognize me."

"Yoongi..."

"Even just the rumors of what happened between us could destroy both of us," he said. "My fans need someone they can trust and look up to. Most of them don't even know I'm not with Jihee anymore. They know about the soulmate thing, but we only used that to find you. We're going to deny it later, anyway." 

"You didn't have to sleep with me then," you said. "If you would've just pushed me off your lap, none of this would've happened."

"If you wouldn't have fallen in my lap, none of this would've happened." 

You sighed, silence ensuing. The road noise the only sound. Even the driver was silent from behind the partition. 

"Sumi..." Yoongi said, his hand suddenly coming to rest just above your knee. His fingertips digging into the fabric of your jeans. His touch was warm, but instead of overheating as you did with Minki's touch, your temperature matched his. 

"What?" you asked, but your question was soon answered as you felt heat rise in your stomach. Suddenly, Yoongi appeared less like the image obsessed jerk of a few minutes ago and looked more like the man you met at the bar three days ago. 

You unhooked your seatbelt and straddled Yoongi's lap, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks as his ran up to play with your hair. Your lips connected and nearly immediately his tongue slipped between yours. 

Yoongi's hat--which you hadn't paid much attention to before--suddenly was in your way. You ripped it off, exposing his messy hair. It was obvious he hadn't styled it before putting on the snapback, but you liked it better that way, it allowed your fingers to tangle in his hair. 

"The windows?" you asked, falling back onto the seat as Yoongi unhooked his seatbelt and hovered over you.

"They're tinted," he said, grabbing hold of your scarf and pulled it over your head. It landed somewhere on the floor of the car, out of sight. "Don't worry, no one will see." 

He leaned down and latched onto your lips once again. His hands wandering under the hem of your shirt, causing it to ride up slightly. You splayed your fingers against his firm chest, causing him to stop momentarily. 

"What?" he asked. 

"I think...I think this is what the doctor was talking about..." you said. "I think we need to stop." 

Despite your words, your hands slipped underneath his sweatshirt, feeling the warm skin beneath. You wanted to feel that skin against you, but before you could pull it over his head, he surprised you, by pulling up your shirt, exposing your stomach. 

"I'll do it lower this time," he said, his voice raspy and lower than normal. "So you don't have to worry about hiding them." His lips latched onto the skin of your stomach, causing you to release a small moan as you ran your fingers from his hairline and down to the nape of his neck. 

"Yoongi..."

"Why'd you have to wear that perfume for him? It drives me crazy." 

He curved his two index fingers into the belt loop of your jeans and tugged slightly, not to pull them down, but rather to tease you. 

"You're for my eyes only."

"Yoongi," you said. "We need to stop." 

Yoongi pulled away, a sheepish look crossing his face. He pulled down your shirt and sat back in the seat. 

You, too, sat back up, trying to catch your breath. Your heart was racing, partially from the thoughts of the feel of his lips, but you were scared. You felt so out of control, something had taken you over entirely. It wasn't a secret that you were attracted to Yoongi, you did willingly sleep with him, but the urges pulled you together, even when you least wanted it. 

"That was...that was...weird..." 

Yoongi nodded in agreement, reaching down and retrieving your scarf. You did the same with his hat and you exchanged the items. 

You watched out the window as the car pulled into the driveway of the dorm. You glanced back over at Yoongi, noticing a bit of your lipstick managed to cling to his bottom lip. You chuckled slightly before reaching over and using your thumb to wipe it from his lip. 

He watched you, not making any movement to stop you, but your gaze shifted downward, not able to meet his eyes. 

"Lipstick," you said. 

The driver opened the door and the two of you walked back into the dorm.

---

Jihee (9:02 am): Good morning handsome :)

Jihee (11:15 am): I heard about the shoe business. You always use to complain about having to take off mine.

Jihee (11:17 am): You should tell her to be more careful though. :)

Jihee (1:20 pm): Babe...please just respond to me...

Jihee (1:21 pm): You're making me seem desperate.

Jihee (4:45 pm): Her picture's out there now, you know? Some guy saying she cheated with you.

Jihee (5:00 pm): She doesn't look like the type to cheat.

Jihee (6:34 pm): The more I think about it...the less she seems like your type. Especially for a rebound.

Jihee (7:00 pm): You could do much better if you wanted to Oppa. She's kind of pretty and all, but don't you think she's a little simple?

Yoongi (7:02 pm): Whatever this is, is between us. Leave her out of it. 

Sutures - Chapter Five: Murmurs

Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader

Warnings (chapter specific): mentions of family illness, a disgusting amount of fluff

Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine

There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

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"Sumi!" Jungkook called. "Can you do us a favor?" 

Jungkook and Jimin stood outside your door. You could tell they were up to something based on the smirk on their faces. 

You had been quietly knitting, trying to forget the events of earlier that day with Minki and what happened in the backseat with Yoongi. You still felt Yoongi's lips on your stomach, soft, yet, demanding. He hadn't managed to leave any marks this time, which you were grateful for, but part of you wished you could have a reminder of the secret between you. 

"What?" you asked.

"Yoongi was going to wake up at four to help us with the production on the new song. And it's almost four thirty now. Can you wake him up for us?"

You glanced at the two boys who while they seemed mischievous, seemed genuinely like they didn't want the task of having to wake up Yoongi. 

"Why can't you do it?" you asked, putting aside the hat you were currently working on. 

"He'll be nicer to you," Jungkook said. "He's grumpy when he wakes up." 

You laughed slightly. "All right, fine."

You followed the two boys towards Yoongi's bedroom. You hadn't stepped foot in his bedroom yet, having only been in his studio. You opened the door slowly and tiptoed towards the bed where the boy's form was curled up asleep. Despite being taller than you, when he slept he made himself look so small, his knees curled up towards his chest and his arms around a pillow. 

"Yoongi," you said, lightly shaking his shoulder. "The boys said you wanted to get up at four. It's four thirty." 

You hear an annoyed groan and before you could protest, Yoongi dropped the pillow and pulled you onto the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder and you felt the soft scratch of his barely there facial hair. 

"Sleep with me," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear. 

You reached up to the pillow above you and threw it back towards him, hearing it hit with a solid thud. 

"Fuck you." You attempted to squirm from his grasp, your legs kicking the covers and his legs. Yet, he never loosened his grip. 

"Already have," he whispered, his voice husky. You felt his smirk against your shoulder blades and for a moment you thought he would begin kissing you again. But, as you reached for another pillow, his arms released from around you. 

You got up from the bed and walked out of his room, his scent clinging to your clothes. You stopped to glance at Jungkook and Jimin who stood by the door, wide eyed at what they witnessed. You could only imagine what it looked like to them: Yoongi pulling you onto the bed and kissing you as you playfully tried to push him away. 

"I see why no one likes waking him up."

The two boys awkwardly nodded and walked into Yoongi's bedroom, shutting the door behind them. 

You couldn't help but laugh slightly at the boy's assumptions before walking back towards your bedroom at the end of the hall. 

---

You hadn't spoken to your parents since before the night you and Yoongi met. You didn't call much due to the long distance charges to the US, but you figured you needed to update them about everything. 

"Hello?" your mom answered the phone. "Sumi?"

"Hi mom," you said. "How's everything?"

"Good, busy as always. But, don't worry about us, how is my daughter?"

"Well, there's a lot that's happened since I talked to you last." 

You explained the situation, careful not to tell your mom too much. You knew if you explained that you'd had a one night stand your mom would be disappointed and scold you. Despite being an ocean away in California, your mother still managed to make you feel like you were a fifteen-year-old again who got caught sneaking out. 

"Oh, I'm so happy you finally got rid of Minki," your mother said. "I never liked him. And I can't wait to meet this soulmate of yours, what did you say his name was again?"

---

"Min Yoongi," Yoongi heard as he walked towards your room on the way to the bathroom. He stopped, noticing the small crack in your door. He wondered if you had managed to see him in the hallway, but as he approached he noticed that you were pacing around your room. 

"No, mom, don't Google..." You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I get it, mom," you said laughing. "He's cute." 

You didn't talk for a moment, but you cutely chewed on your bottom lip which made Yoongi want to replace your teeth with his own. He pushed back the thought as you spoke again. 

"Well, we all agreed it would be best for me to move in with his band so that his career wouldn't be affected and I could continue working online or once things get better do in-person sessions."

You went silent again. Yoongi couldn't hear what your mother was saying because she was speaking so quickly. 

"I know, mom," you said. "I'll be careful. The only trouble we've had has been with Minki. His fans don't know."

Yoongi's stomach turned. Guilt.

"At first, I wanted to go along with what the doctor's said and do the relationship, but I'm glad we didn't now. It may be harder for a while, but we barely knew each other and asking one another to put in effort to a relationship neither one of us wanted didn't make sense." 

Despite your words being Yoongi's rationale, they felt so harsh coming from your mouth. He was glad the arrangement had become easier for you, but there was part of him that felt disappointed. 

---

"How's grandma?" you asked, once your mom had finally calmed down about Yoongi. She had taken it better than you expected her to, however, you were slightly worried she was expecting grandchildren any day. 

"Good," your mom answered. "The doctors say her treatment is going well. As they say, no news is good news." 

You sigh, wishing you could be in the US with your family, but you stayed behind to go to school and by the time you finished, you already had a life you didn't want to leave in Korea. You visited as often as you and your parents could afford, but that was normally only at the holidays. 

You had no siblings and many of your parent's siblings were also in the US or in Busan. Seoul was a lonely city, but you made it work.

"All right, well take care of her and yourself, okay, mom? And tell dad I miss him."

You ended the call after you both said your goodbyes. You sighed in relief at having finally explained the situation to your family, but you couldn't help the worry that formed in your stomach. You were normally able to suppress the constant worry about your grandmother, but every time you talked to your mom it always seemed to worsen.

---

Yoongi stepped away from your door once you hung up, so he wouldn't be discovered. He felt a small pang of guilt from eavesdropping, but your door was open and you had been talking about him. He pushed it away, knowing it really didn't matter. 

He walked back to his studio and sat down at his desk, Jungkook and Jimin listening to their vocals. He wondered what was up with your grandma, while it didn't seem out of place to ask how she was doing, the way your brow had furled and the way you chewed your lip nervously made him think that there was something else going on. 

"Yoongi?" Jimin asked, taking off his headphones. "Everything okay?"

Yoongi shook himself out of it. 

"Yeah," he said. "Sorry, not awake yet." 

---

"Sumi," Namjoon said, knocking politely on your bedroom door. "Do you want to come and help me work out some lyrics?"

You looked at the leader in somewhat disbelief, your eyes wide and your lips pursed. 

"Me?" you asked. "Wouldn't one of the boys be better?"

"Maybe," he said. "But, it's not often we get a perspective of someone outside of the industry, and you've been in your room since you got back. I know it was tough to face your ex and thought you might like some company." 

You smiled, Namjoon was so perceptive, you wondered if he could read your mind. You realized how much easier it would be if you were his soulmate instead of Yoongi's. Namjoon understood you and always seemed to know how to make you feel better. 

"You can bring your project with you," he said, leaving towards his studio and leaving the door open for you. 

You followed the leader to his studio, which had fewer obstacles to enter than Yoongi's. Although, once you entered it was largely similar. A simple design with a few decorations and various awards hung on the wall.

He pulled up a chair beside him and motioned for you to sit down beside him. You sat down and looked over all the equipment on his desk. A normal desktop with multiple monitors, other things you didn't recognize, like a machine with various knobs and switches, and a microphone. 

You remembered seeing most of the same equipment in Yoongi's studio, except he had a keyboard he kept in the center of everything. The black and white keys almost taking over the room. 

Namjoon opened up a notebook with various notes in it. You even noticed a few notes in English, making you smile and remember that the two of you shared the language in common. 

"How'd you get into music?" you asked in English. 

"I always liked music," he said, also responding in English. "I read a lot and eventually it translated into writing. I don't know, it all just kind of happened naturally."

You smiled, noting the way his face lit up as he talked about his passion, his dimples appearing on his cheeks. 

"I understand," you said. "I always liked to teach people when they learned that I speak English. I should've charged when I was in high school for all the tutoring I did, but I enjoyed it enough that I didn't care." 

"What about knitting?" he asked. 

"I was always crafty," you said, laughing. "Whenever I visited my grandmother in the US, she always had a knitting project and she talked about how it calmed her, made her realize she had more control over her fate than she believed. She used to tell me stories about the Fates in Greek mythology and how knitting made her feel like one." You looked down at your project--a black hat. "So, whenever I feel out of control, I knit. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm making until it's finished." 

You quickly bound off the yarn and slapped the finished hat on Namjoon's head, giggling. You expected him to take it off immediately and hand it back, but instead, he used the nearest computer monitor to adjust it so it sat over his hair attractively. 

"It looks nice," you said. 

---

The two of you worked in comfortable silence, the hat you made still sitting on Namjoon's dyed hair. You'd started a new hat with the same black yarn. You wondered if he had a girlfriend to give it to. You and Minki always used to wear matching hats or scarfs or gloves. He took whatever you made him wholeheartedly. They were probably still sitting in the top drawer of his dresser. You wished you could unravel the yarn and turn them back into a tangled ball of string. 

Namjoon would occasionally run a line past you or hum a melody without realizing. You even found yourself humming the same melody back to him and when you did, he always shot you a small smile. 

"Let's see what fans think of my new hat," he said, taking a selfie with his phone. 

"Wait! Don't post that! Won't they think you have a girlfriend or something?"

He gave you an odd look before looking down at the picture. 

"Does Yoongi have you that paranoid? If anyone questions it, I'll just say a fan made it," he said. "Not exactly a lie." 

Your shoulders slumped realizing the easy solution. It was true that since the shoe incident, you were scared to be visible in the boys' lives. Their careers meant more to them than it did to you. You could be an English tutor nearly anywhere and no one could take knitting from you, but their music could be taken from them. You didn't want to be the reason they lost their passions.

"Come on," he said. "I have to go run this past Yoongi. You're welcome to come along." 

You followed Namjoon to Yoongi's studio, taking your yarn and knitting needles with you. Namjoon rang the doorbell to Yoongi's studio and you had to stop yourself from laughing at the ritual of it all.

Yoongi came and opened the door. He greeted Namjoon and while he seemed slightly surprised to see you, held the door open to you. 

"She's great to bounce lyrics off," Namjoon said. "Surprised you haven't picked up on that yet." 

You sat down on the couch in the back of the studio while the two boys discussed the lyrics and the song. You took the opportunity to go on Twitter, seeing the picture of Namjoon in the hat. All of the fans complimented him, telling him he looked cute and demanding he go to bed because it was late. You smiled, hoping that if the fans ever found out about you, they would have similar reactions.

You went back to knitting, but couldn't help and look up when you heard the sound of the piano. Yoongi was playing the melody Namjoon had been humming earlier and you were impressed by his ability to translate the hums into notes so quickly. 

His fingers slide over the keys naturally--the keys an extension of his fingers--much like the needles you held. Yoongi was serious, but unlike his normal seriousness which was grumpy or sexy (depending on the day), this time he was focused. His lips slightly pouted and his body relaxed. 

Music for him was the knitting to you. It was the creation that helped you escape yourself to feel the smoothness of the keys or the needles beneath your fingers and trust that something beautiful would come from it.

---

You had fallen asleep by the time Yoongi and Namjoon had finished; still occasionally moving your fingers, trying to knit in your sleep. Yoongi smiled, remembering the times he woke up in the studio seeing the notes he'd unknowingly composed while he was asleep.

"Do you want me to wake her up?" Namjoon asked. 

"No," Yoongi said, shaking his head. "Let's not disturb her." 

Namjoon nodded, grabbing his notebook and leaving the room. He closed the door softly so he wouldn't wake you. 

Yoongi looked down at your sleeping form. It seemed he'd seen you sleeping nearly as much as he'd seen you awake since the first time you met. The night you spent together, you'd fallen asleep first, cuddling into his side. Normally, he wasn't the cuddling type, at least not with a girl he'd just met, but seeing the lipstick smeared across your pouty lips and your tangled hair spread out across the pillow, he hadn't been able to resist. 

He grabbed your knitting needles and yarn, setting them on the edge of his desk, within your sight so you could easily find them in the morning. It wasn't the first time he'd moved your knitting needles, for something you loved so much, you often left them laying around. Yoongi opened the bottom drawer of his desk where he kept a blanket for when his studio was cold or when he fell asleep while working. 

He covered your form before shutting off the light and leaving the room quietly.

I may have cried when I read that. He deserves everything and has faced so much adversity and still Western institutions require him and BTS to work ten times harder for the recognition they deserve.

I love them and I know this is not over. They will still get their Grammy one day. And I will continue to love Yoongi and BTS no matter what awards they win, or don’t win.

honestly yoongi's weverse post makes me so much sadder because bts shouldn't have to run three times harder than their peers to get the awards and acknowledgement they deserve... we all know if they were white and an english group they would be treated much differently. i hate the thought that they think this is somehow on them for not working hard enough when they work harder than anyone else.

Shall I start cross posting my fics now? 👀