#to be without

[wiirocku]

Proverbs 19:2 (NASB) - Also it is not good for a person to be without knowledge, And one who hurries his footsteps errs.

[sugaurora]

Hello! Idk if you’re more likely to read comments on ao3 vs here, so I thought I’d drop in on both platforms to say DANG YOU HAVE AN IMMENSE TALENT FOR WRITING 😭 IT ACTUALLY MAKES ME WANNA CRY HOW GOOD YOU ARE 😭 Hands down favorite angst period 😭 Woebegone? 😭 To look within? 😭 To be without? 😭 Thank you so much for sharing with us!

Pls, this is so freaking sweet  😭 😭 Thank you so so so much for reading those stories and I’m really happy you enjoyed them. Lowkey no one ever talks about Woebegone, but I love that story so much. I want to wrap Yoongi up in my arms and give him all the love ever 😭

I seriously have too many projects, but I really would like to complete To Look Within some day, I put so much time into that story. Ahh, one day. Thank you again, this is very encouraging and I really just appreciate you so much 🥺 💕

[sugaurora]

to be without | 02

Funny how the world can shift in an instant. How you approached your bedroom with excitement only to walk away with a life forever changed.

Chapters: 01  02  03  04

Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader

Genre: Producer!Yoongi; Angst

Word Count: 1,800+

Warnings: Profanity; Cheating mention

Sequel: To Look Within

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi!

Crossposted on AO3

Writing Masterlist

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N!” 

The time that passed between you leaving your apartment and somehow making the long walk across town to Jinah’s building was marked by an expansive nothing, a muted gray without light or sound or cognizance. You didn't remember any stumbling through the streets, as if you were teleported here alongside a shapeless, empty dream. But you weren't surprised when you saw her face. Who else would you have turned to, even if you were practically unconscious?

When she opened her door, calling your name in surprise, the world’s colors started to bleed back in. The fresh, hay-colored blonde of her bleached hair that brushed along her shoulders as she quickly pulled you inside. The dark pink rug set just beyond the door, fluffy strands of it pressed beneath her bare feet. The vibrant orange and pale ivory of her cat, Pang, as he tipped his head back, looking at you upside down from his comfortable spot on the couch. He trilled at your noisy steps as you walked past your friend into her place. You heard the door snap shut behind you.

“Y/N! What the hell happened?”

You caught a glimpse of yourself in a decorative mirror hanging on her wall. Your hair was ruffled in every direction. Streaks of watered-down mascara were smudged all around your eyes, your cheeks. Your fingers desperately clutched the strap of your purse as if you were holding on for dear life.

You made it halfway into the living room before you collapsed to your knees and screamed, wailed so loud your whole body shook with the force. You weren’t sure when you stopped screaming. Only that at some point, screams melted into sobs, turned to heaving, choking tears as reality finally caught up with you, crashing into your body like a derailed train.

Cheating. He was cheating.

Jinah didn’t say a word. She was on the floor in front of you, arms around your body, squeezing you tight to her chest.

Your best friend since junior high asked nothing, only held you quietly as you cried. Squeezed you tight as you shook through your sobs, as you howled moans filled with incomprehensible betrayal onto her living room floor.

You gulped a breath at some point, the noises from you receding. You could hear the television in the background, whatever show she’d been watching when you showed up playing quietly on the screen. You saw Pang poking his head around the side of the couch, eyes like glassy, orange marbles peering at you with curiosity.

“Y/N, can you talk?” Jinah asked in the gentlest voice. “Can you speak? Do I need to call an ambulance?” You felt her body lean back just a little, enough to let her eyes meet yours. “Just nod if you can. Nod for emergency,” she spoke, so practiced, so slowly.

You realized while she was holding you she had been checking your vitals, looking for signs of trauma, blood, anything out of place. Emergency, like the place where she worked as a nurse in rough twelve hour shifts.

Emergency.

The image of Yoongi, bent over the side of your bed, ramming his cock over and over into that woman. Your body shook violently. It felt like an emergency, but you didn’t nod.

“Pregnant,” you said. Your voice was dry, the raw fire of your throat making the words sound like dust. The screaming had done that. The screaming that was still going inside your head.

“Preg-? Y/N, you’re pregnant?”

“Cheating,” you said, quieter than you knew was possible. Cheating. He was cheating. Yoongi was-

“Cheating?” she repeated.

The word burned your mouth as it came out, like reams of lava spouting across your lips. It felt wrong, poisonous. You felt blindsided, like a great stone hammer had swung at you from the sky, knocking you into nothing. You and your baby. Yoongi’s baby.

The crying started again.

Jinah didn’t ask any questions, just kept holding you. When you had quieted again she left your side, pulling you onto her couch when she returned before draping a blanket over your body. She made you drink a few sips of water and stroked your hair in silence. Jinah the saint, you thought as darkness wrapped you up and forced you to shut down. Vaguely, you remembered her checking on you throughout the night, offering you more water and stroking your forehead.

The urge rumbled through your body and your eyes snapped open. You didn’t remember moving. One moment you were staring at the barely lit ceiling of Jinah’s living room, the next you were face first over the rim of her toilet, puking up your very existence.

You heard her run in, felt as she brushed her fingers through your hair while you heaved up nothing. Emergency.

“I’m gonna call your mom,” she said when your stomach had stopped its spasms and she stood.

You didn’t respond. The gray was falling back over you, the ocean blues and crisp whites of her bathroom fading away again, the rays of sunlight streaming in through the window dimming out of existence. It must’ve been morning already. Had time kept passing?

You curled up next to the toilet. The cool floor of the bathroom felt good against your cheek. Pang joined you at some point, dragging his rough tongue across your skin to lick away the sweat on your forehead.

You heard when she must’ve plugged in your long-dead phone and turned it on. Notifications pinged over and over again, for at least a minute straight. Then the ringing started, your ringtone blaring. With her bedroom just across the hall, you could hear it all.

“Scumbag,” you heard Jinah mutter. Then she must’ve answered.

“Y/N! Y/N, where are you?? I’ve been calling all night!” He was shouting so loud you could hear even without the speakerphone. You brought your knees to your chest, willing his voice to stop. Deeper you fucking slut , he’d said with that same voice. The nausea was already rolling back through your gut.

“You're scum, Min Yoongi! Garbage. You stay away from her, you hear me? Die in a fire!”

“Jinah?! Jinah, is Y/N with you?”

“Don’t-" she said, hissing out the last letter. "-call her. If I see you I'm gonna fucking kill you!”

The call ended. And with the vicious way she’d said the words, you could be certain Yoongi felt the truth of her threat through the phone.

You heard Jinah a minute later on a call with your mom, saying you were having a rough time and staying with her for a while. You couldn’t hear your mom, but you could imagine. She had never been sure about your relationship with Yoongi. An aspiring producer, he had no real job in her eyes. She wouldn’t be disappointed if you broke up. Would you break up? Another sob snuck from between your lips and Pang meowed next to your head in commiseration.

The phone didn’t ring again. Later, Jinah told you she’d blocked his number. But you found out quickly, that call had been all the hint he needed to act, threat or no.

You heard him not twenty minutes later, banging at her front door, his hoarse voice calling your name. Jinah’s footsteps were so heavy, you felt the floorboards shake.

“Fuck you, Yoongi,” you heard her shout through the intercom. “If you’re not gone in one minute I’m calling the cops! I hope they beat you to death!!”

“Jinah, stop fucking around. I know she’s here, let me in!”

“Eat shit!”

“She’s pregnant, Jinah. Did she tell you? I have to see her, please. Please, I’m so sorry, please !” He was crying again, fists battering the door. “ Please .” You heard her footsteps again, stomping back towards her room.

She stopped at the bathroom on her way back, a metal baseball bat clutched in her hand when she peeked into the bathroom.

You had sat up by then, shoulder leaning against the rim of the toilet. You didn’t know how you looked, but Jinah grimaced and glared down the hall towards her front door.

“I’m going to break his fucking kneecaps.” In seventh grade, she had punched Taehwon so hard he lost a tooth. In college, she had yanked on Siyoung’s extensions hard enough that half her real hair came out with them. You knew she wasn’t joking.

“Don’t,” you coughed.

“I’ll never forgive him for doing this to you.”

“Y/N, please! Jinah, let me in!!!” More sobs, more desperate pounding of his fists.

“I want to hear.”

“No,” she dropped the bat and stepped into the bathroom, kneeling in front of you. “You don’t need to see him right now. I’m just going to call the cops.”

“I want to hear what he has to say.” It felt like a small thing, to listen. It proved you were still there, still able to react.

Jinah bit the inside of her cheek.

“Alright. Alright, if you’re sure. Just...let me clean you up.”

She took a makeup wipe to your face, clearing away the stains from the day before, then wiping over again a warm, damp towel. She straightened your hair, brushing over it with her fingers into what you assumed was a presentable state.

She picked up the bat and walked in front of you while you made your way down the hall.

“I’ll break his fucking back, Y/N, I swear. You deserve so much better.”

“Please, just let me hear him out.”

You didn’t know what you expected to hear. Nothing could change what you’d seen, what you’d heard or felt. Nothing he had to say could fix that. But still, you wanted to hear it. From his mouth.

She yanked open the door and Yoongi fell inside, as if he had been sitting with his back pressed to the door. He scrambled to his feet and looked at Jinah, past her to where you stood.

You didn’t know hearts could break more than once.

You clutched your shoulder, as if the pain of bruising it the day before was only triggered again at the sight of him. His black t-shirt hung loosely on his shoulders, the dark circles under his reddened eyes deeper, more purple than you’d ever seen them.

“Y/N…” he said in a whisper.

Your name coming from his mouth sounded like a gunshot, the word, each letter searing through your chest like molten drops of lead.

Would every word hurt like this? You wanted to hear him, wanted to know what he could possibly have to say to you. But would those words shred you from the inside, cutting through you like hot knives, opening more wounds that would never heal?

It didn’t matter. After all, you were already bleeding. Your heart was already stained. 

[sugaurora]

to be without | 03

Funny how the world can shift in an instant. How you approached your bedroom with excitement only to walk away with a life forever changed.

Chapters: 01  02  03  04

Pairing: Yoongi x Female Reader

Genre: Producer!Yoongi; Angst

Word Count: 2,400+

Warnings: Profanity; Cheating mention; Discussion of abortion

Sequel: To Look Within

If you enjoy my writing, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi!

Crossposted on AO3

Writing Masterlist

You had agreed to listen. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much just looking at him made you want to curl into a ball and disappear, you wanted to hear whatever he had to say. What he could possibly have to say.

But Yoongi was silent for a long while, wordlessly sitting across from you at Jinah’s tiny dining room table. After all that pounding and sobbing, he simply stared at you with bleary eyes, hands shaking, face pale and pinched. The silence felt threatening, as if all the words that needed to be said were floating around above both your heads, heavy and deathly sharp, waiting for the perfect moment to fall. To scatter across the table and cause more bruises and more bleeding.

Jinah had made herself scarce, promising that she would only be in her bedroom while you talked, if you needed her. You could make out her silhouette in a small mirror just over Yoongi’s shoulder, giving away her position in the hallway, bat still in hand. Yoongi could see her too if he looked up, you were sure. But he didn’t seem to care. His eyes stayed glued to you.

At first, he’d reached across the table for your hands, as if holding them would give him the courage to start speaking. When you flinched away from his outstretched fingers, instead laying your hands in your lap, you saw the pain of that rejection ripple across his face, felt the sting of his touch without even connecting.

“Y/N, I’m so, so sorry,” he said at last. Some part of you felt bad for him. Even if it made no sense, even though he had hurt you this way, it still managed to bother you seeing him this upset, looking this distraught.

But it wasn’t right. He had done this, you reminded yourself. He hurt because of himself. You hurt because of him.

“You’ve said that.” Your voice was quiet, calmer than you had expected. Maybe some of the numbness was still there. Or maybe having him in front of you made it all too real, made it something you had to accept, something you had to deal with. “I’ve heard that you’re sorry, Yoongi. Do you have anything else to say?”

His hands went to his dark hair, ruffling it at the sides in frustration. He leaned forward onto his elbows, pressing his forehead against his hands.

“I fucked up. I know I fucked up. There’s nothing I can do to fix that, I know that. I’m so sorry.” He said the words like he’d been repeating them for a long time. Maybe not since yesterday. Maybe since it had started, he had already been apologizing to you. But he did it anyway, you reminded yourself.

You could admit that you and Yoongi’s relationship had never been perfectly smooth. You argued about the same things every couple argued about. Money. Time. Attention. Little things too. The way he never cleaned up his dishes. The several times you forgot the keycode and locked yourself out of the apartment. His cold feet brushing against your legs in the middle of the night.

But you loved him in spite of and even for all those things. Loved him enough to accept your role as the main breadwinner while he struggled for his dreams, his passions. Loved him enough to never stop believing in his talents. Loved him enough to be happy to start a family with him, even if your mom wouldn't approve, even if after three years of dating he hadn’t shown any interest in marriage.

Not one day went by where you didn’t speak, where he hadn’t called you if he was busy at his small studio space downtown and told you how much he loved you, sometimes directly, sometimes in his own way. You’d never doubted his love, even if it was just leaving you most of the leftover Chinese in the fridge or filling your thermos with hot tea before he locked himself inside the tiny closet he worked in at home. It was more than enough for you to stay.

You swallowed back a sob.

So why wasn’t that enough for him? Why hadn’t you been enough?

“Why?” Your voice broke on the word, giving up your real question. Why hadn’t you been enough?

“It was a mistake, I swear to god, a stupid, stupid mistake. It had nothing to do with you at all, I was just...I just...”

You stayed quiet, refusing to look at him now, instead training your focus on the swirling grain of the little wooden table. A mistake. A stupid mistake. You didn’t remember missing any of your birth control pills. Or had you? Had you made a stupid mistake as well? You swallowed hard.

“Y/N, I’m an idiot. I love you so much, I just made a bad choice and-”

“How long?” You looked up with the question, already tired of seeing the pain on his face. Was it wrong to be bitter that he was hurting too? You wanted to stay bitter for now, dug your heels into it.

“On…”

You saw the lie forming before he moved his lips. Yoongi had always been a terrible liar, every tell bleeding through the features of his round face.

But he stopped himself. He’d wanted to lie, but he didn't.

Once? Only once, he’d been about to say. It could’ve only been a lie. It couldn’t have been once, only once.

Not when he was so shy during sex your first time, so quiet the first few times. Not when it took four months of sleeping together for him to lose himself in the act and finally say a few dirty words. Not when it took a few prodding conversations after that until you learned how much he liked pulling your hair and calling you names that would make anyone blush. And he knew you knew that.

“How long?” you repeated and a little of the bitterness seeped into your tone.

He was crying again, hands back in his hair. “Three times. Just three times, I swear. But I swear I won't ever do it again, Y/N. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, please.” His words were so desperate, begging your attention. But your mind couldn’t push away the image now burned into your retinas, the outline of it all that prodded your nausea whenever you closed your eyes.

Him, in your bed. Sleeping with some other woman in your bed, while you were working, thinking he was in his office making calls, networking, and creating music as he loved.

“Please don’t cry, please. I love you. I love you so much.”

You were surprised when you felt the fat tears falling onto your hands, settling into the lines along the wood of the table. You would’ve thought you’d been crying the whole time.

“I swear, Y/N, I swear I’ll never-” he choked on the words, tears welling in his eyes, his throat. Presumably from the sight of you. He’d never been good at watching you cry. “Stupid, I’m so stupid. I never, ever wanted to hurt you like this. I just got caught up in-”

“Who is she?”

“A singer I met at the studio last year. I’m-I’m writing a song for her and we all got drunk one night and I-I just...and then-”

“Stop!” Your stomach lurched. You thought you’d been strong enough, but you really didn’t want to hear more. It was enough, too much. You could feel the fire climbing your throat as your body was shredded from inside to out. You sucked in a ragged breath. It was an emergency.

You shot up from the table, knocking your chair backward with the force and throwing yourself over the edge of Jinah’s sink just in time to be sick again. Water. Stomach acid. It tasted almost as bad as you felt. Jinah was there in a flash, pushing Yoongi back and holding you, rubbing your side and speaking some cooing gibberish that you couldn’t bother to make out over the sound of your dry heaving.

Yoongi had stood, had made to come after you. You didn’t miss that movement. But the bitterness was still there, washing across your tongue like acrid lashings of truth. You hadn’t been enough. And now, he couldn’t be enough. There wasn’t enough trust left to save this. Only the metallic taste of acid and blood and pain.

Jinah helped you sit back down in your chair. Yoongi was still standing, unsure what to do, eyes bouncing back and forth between you and her. But your friend didn’t leave this time, standing next to your chair instead, just in case.

“I've listened enough,” you said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Y/N, I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I know I've broken your trust, I'm sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you like this. But I swear it was a mistake. I’ll never hurt you that way again, I swear it.”

He was on his knees in front of you, whining, pleading, hands pressed together.

“I want to be with you, only ever you. You're...you're pregnant with our baby? I want to be here for both of you.” His hands started to reach for yours again, towards your stomach. As if he had any right.

You smacked his shaking fingers, shooting up again from your seat, legs betraying you and making you sway unsteadily. Jinah’s hands were at your waist then, balancing you. But all you could see was red, blood red, and clear tears, and gray nothing.

“I’m not having it.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times, still kneeling in front of you, eyes on your stomach.

“W-what?” he said, finally tilting his head up to look at you.

“I’m not having your baby,” you said. The words were laced with it all. Everything you had felt in the last day pouring out of you in burning waves. “I don’t want any kind of reminder of our life together. We’re through.”

“Y-you can’t be serious!”

“Y/N-” Jinah said softly, but her voice was quickly drowned out by Yoongi’s.

“Baby, no! Please, don’t-”

“I was so happy when I missed that period,” you said through fresh tears. How could you have any tears left at this point? “I thought about her growing inside me.”

“Her?”

“I know it’s a girl, I can feel it,” you sniffled. “I could already see her pretty face. Smiling with your gums, playing piano with your hands.”

Your fingers pressed deep against your stomach as you said a silent apology to the life inside you that could never be. You weren’t sure when you’d decided, somewhere between screaming in Jinah’s arms and watching him there on the floor. But you couldn’t have her, you wouldn’t.

“I can’t look at her every day and remember you. Remember what you did to me.”

“You’re...you’re not even going to give me a chance?” He scrambled up to his feet, taking a step towards you and you flinched backward, as if he’d made to hit you. The movement made him stop cold.

“Y-Y/N, I fucked up, just this once. But it meant nothing, it didn’t mean anything! Please don’t throw away our life together like this. We’ve been together so long, if we just take some time-”

“I can’t,” you screamed and he backed up, eyes going wide. “You’ll do it again.” You were sobbing again, words barely audible around the tears choking up your throat. “I don’t have any more heart left for you to break. If you hurt me like this again-”

“I won’t. Y/N, I swear.” His voice was breaking on every other word, scratching against your ears. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t. “It’s you I love, I swear it on my life. Please don’t do this, please.”

“Leave, please,” you said. “I don’t want to see you anymore.”

The silence ballooned inside the apartment, overbearing and weighing on your body and your heart. You put your face in your hands, letting more tears fall. It had to be this way. It had to.

“Yoongi,” Jinah said with the same quiet patience she’d given you last night. “It’s probably better if you just go.”

“We’re...you’re…” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“Come on Yoongi, don’t make me really call the cops. Just go.” You could feel her waving her arm, shaking her hand at him, motioning him to leave.

“No, this...this conversation isn't over. You can’t just make a decision like that in less than a day. Y/N, you're, you're not thinking right. You’re still upset, you’re-”

You took a step forward, swinging your arms at him, pushing him backward, watching him stumble back over the carpet of Jinah’s living room. Pang went running, darting behind him to hide somewhere under the couch from the sudden chaos.

You held up an accusatory finger. “You don’t get to tell me how I’m thinking or feeling or anything else, Min Yoongi!”

“Listen, please. We can work this out, please. You can’t just ki-kill our baby-"

“YOU killed her!” You were screaming again, the words falling out of your mouth like rusty knives, knicking your wounds over and over again with each syllable. Your words, not his, making you bleed. “The minute you decided I wasn’t enough, that what we had wasn’t enough. The minute you stuck your cock into whoever that s-stupid bi-bitch…” You lost momentum, succumbing to another shuddering wave of tears. Yoongi didn’t move, frozen in his spot. There were too many emotions on his face, none that you wanted to deal with. You wiped your eyes quickly. “You killed our future, Yoongi. Leave, I don’t want to see you.”

It took an eon. He stood there staring at you, holding your stare for what felt like the expanse of eternity.

Then he turned around without another word.

And he left.

Closed Jinah’s door behind him gently. And he was gone.

You fell to the floor, crashing onto your knees before falling over on your side. Your hands were shaking as you brought them to your face, trembling fingers catching each new-fallen tear.

Pang didn’t come out from under the couch for a long while.

[sugaurora]

The final part of To Be Without will be posted sometime this afternoon (CST).

I really hope you guys will like the ending TT Thank you for being so supportive through this miniseries.

[sugaurora]

Just reread to be without and to look within for the millionth time and it still takes my breath away. The character depth. The rawness of the emotions. It’s truly one of my favorite works. You are incredibly talented.

I....you...me..?????

Thank you so much. That's very, very kind of you to say and it means a lot to me that you not only read, but were moved enough to read them more than once. That story series really means a lot of me and I still have two extremely emotionally raw chapters I'd like to finish for it one day when I can dedicate the right time and headspace they deserve. From the depth of my lil writer heart, I appreciate you sharing your thoughts with me, you are wonderful, and I hope life is treating you very well 💕

[sugaurora]

hi there c: no need to answer publicly. i was hoping if you could add an infidelity warning to your to be without series? it's something that really bothers me and it'd be nice to warn other people sensitive to it too.

There’s always been a “cheating” tag on AO3 for this story, but I added one to the tumblr posts as well. I apologize if it disturbed you!!