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[5] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 5: Paradis City

WC: 7117 Chapter Warnings: no warnings for this chapter. unedited, as always. Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: Unfortunately, there's not much Levi in this chapter so I updated this fast so you don't have to wait a long time just for Levi not to come up lol. This chapter holds more of reader's life now and subtle clues on why she left.

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The campus was quiet, save for the occasional murmur of passing students and the rustle of leaves as a soft breeze swept through the courtyard. You and Levi were sitting on a low stone wall near one of the older buildings, the sun setting just beyond the skyline, casting long shadows over the worn paths crisscrossing the quad. The end of the semester of your second year was approaching, and with it, the inevitable questions about the future.

Levi, sitting next to you with his usual calm demeanor, was more quiet than usual, like he had something on his mind. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence, his voice steady but carrying a weight behind it.

“You ever think about leaving the city?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the horizon, watching as the last streaks of daylight began to fade.

The question caught you off guard. You glanced at him, seeing the faintest crease in his brow, like he was trying to keep the question casual but couldn’t quite manage it. You shifted on the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest, and thought about it for a moment.

“After we graduate?” you asked, already knowing that’s what he meant.

Levi gave a slight nod, still looking out at the skyline. “Yeah. You ever think about what’s next? Where you’d go?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with the fraying edge of your sleeve, thinking about the question. It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it—what comes after graduation, where you’d go, what you’d do. You know what you want to happen. But leaving the city? That hadn’t crossed your mind, not really. You and your grandmother had lived all your lives in Paradis. Her house is comfortable and the thought of leaving your grandmother at her old age is terrifying. Taking her with you is also out of the question because of that. Besides, your grandmother owned that house for decades. It’s the only thing she has to her name. 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice quiet but thoughtful. “I guess a lot of people are thinking about moving away, starting fresh somewhere else. But… I’ve never really wanted that.”

Levi glanced at you, waiting for you to continue. You took a deep breath, trying to articulate what had always felt so clear to you but difficult to put into words.

“I’ve always liked it here,” you began, your eyes wandering over the campus—the familiar buildings, the cracked pathways, the way everything felt worn in, like it had its own stories to tell. “It’s not perfect. It’s far from it, actually.”

Levi’s gaze stayed steady on you, his expression unreadable but curious. You looked back at him, feeling the need to explain.

“This city…” you paused, gesturing vaguely around you, “it’s a mess. We know it’s also shitty, you know? It’s pretending to be perfect while the other side is The Underground. I know there’s kind of a stigma about them. And to be honest, living near The Underground scares me. But it’s not all black and white.”

You looked down at the worn stone beneath your feet, tracing the uneven texture with your eyes. “Not that I’m romanticizing it but I’ve grown comfortable with this city. I don’t really want to leave my home.”

It’s also where the people that matter to you are.

Levi was quiet, his expression softening in that subtle way he had when he was really thinking. You continued, feeling the words come more easily now.

“Everyone’s in such a rush to leave, to go somewhere new, somewhere shiny and perfect. It would be nice, yes, but Paradis is my home. Even if I one day leave, I know I’ll always come back.”

You paused, feeling a little self-conscious now that you’d said all of that out loud. But Levi didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was looking at you with a kind of quiet understanding.

Levi nodded slightly, his eyes drifting back to the horizon, where the sun had finally dipped below the skyline, leaving the campus bathed in a soft twilight.

“I get that,” he said quietly. “More than you know.”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lingering between you but not in a bad way. It felt like something had settled, like an unspoken understanding had passed between you both.

Levi didn’t press further, didn’t ask if you wanted to leave or what your exact plans were. He didn’t need to. You both knew that the city—the imperfect, messy city—was more than just a backdrop to your lives. It was part of who you were. And even though Levi didn’t say much, you had a feeling he understood that better than most.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temples to fend off the headache that had been building all afternoon. It had been a particularly difficult week—multiple depositions, court hearings, and client meetings, all bleeding into one another. But that was the life you had chosen. You thrived on the chaos, on the adrenaline of standing before a judge and making your case, on the satisfaction of winning for your clients.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, pulling you out of your thoughts. It was a notification from your calendar, reminding you of a meeting you had tomorrow with a potential new client. You sighed, glancing at the clock. There was always something more to do. But this work has always been like this. In these times, you even crave it, wanting to distract your mind off of a raven-haired man. 

You glanced over at the window, where the skyline of the city stretched out before you, the tall buildings glinting in the setting sun. Paradis City. It’s a place you used to call home. Now, you feel like an outsider trying to fit yourself in. 

As you returned your attention to the case file in front of you, your mind drifted for a moment to the version of yourself who had once walked these same streets as a student, full of ambition and dreams, before you had any idea what the reality of this life would look like. 

A sharp knock on your office door jolted you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Pixis, your boss, standing in the doorway with his usual relaxed demeanor, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“Still buried in paperwork, I see,” he said with a chuckle, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation. He was dressed in his usual dark suit and you even swear he had the faint smell of whiskey on him—though that was nothing new for Pixis. It was something that concerned you for a while but for the past two months you’ve known him, you realize easily that it doesn’t take away that he’s a great lawyer and person. 

You straightened up in your chair, giving him a polite smile. “Just wrapping up a few things before calling it a night.”

Pixis raised an eyebrow, glancing at the pile of papers on your desk. “You always say that, but I’m beginning to think you never leave this place.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” Pixis said, settling into the chair across from you. “I’m calling for a ceasefire on work tonight.”

You blinked, surprised. “A ceasefire?”

Pixis grinned, leaning back in the chair as if he had all the time in the world. “You heard me. We’re going out. The team’s having dinner tonight, and I won’t take no for an answer. I’ve already told the others. You’ve been here for two months and you haven’t gone to a single get-together. Didn’t they teach you in Trost to socialize?” 

You felt a pang of hesitation. Going out with the team was something you didn’t do often—not because you didn’t enjoy their company, but because your mind was always so focused on getting home and isolating yourself. Socializing wasn’t something that came easily to you these days.

“I appreciate the offer, but—” you started, but Pixis cut you off with a wave of his hand.

“No buts. You’ve been working too hard, and I can’t have Vanessa’s best burning out on me or she’ll have my poor old head,” he said with a grin. “Besides, it’ll be good for morale. And I don’t care how dedicated you are to your work—you’ve got to eat.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that. Pixis was always one to look out for his team, even if his methods were unconventional. And, truth be told, you hadn’t had a proper meal all day. The idea of sitting down to a nice dinner, surrounded by familiar faces, wasn’t entirely unappealing. And God, do you miss Vanessa and the others.

“Where’s everyone meeting?” you asked, finally giving in.

“We’re setting it up at some new place in Stohess,” Pixis replied, standing up from the chair with a satisfied look. “Good food, good drinks. Nothing too fancy. It’ll be sent on the group chat later.” 

You nodded, appreciating his words more than you expected. Pixis, as Vanessa told you, had always been more of a mentor than just a boss, and moments like this reminded you why he commanded so much respect around the firm. 

“I’ll be there,” you said, feeling a little lighter now that the decision was made.

Pixis gave you a final nod and a wink. “That’s the spirit. See you tonight, then.”

As the door closed behind him, you glanced at the clock. You had a little over an hour before the dinner, which gave you just enough time to finish the last few bits of work and maybe freshen up before heading out.

The idea of stepping away from the office, even for one night, suddenly didn’t seem so bad. You leaned back in your chair, closing your laptop with a sense of finality. At least now, you’ll be able to see Paradis in all its glory and see what Levi has been saying about its change. 

The cool evening air brushed against your skin as you stepped out of your coworker’s car into Stohess Street, you couldn’t believe your eyes. This was the very same street where you used to spend your time after class, this was where Kuchel’s was located.

It was night time, and the street is filled with bright lights. What used to be a quiet, nearly forgotten corner of the city had transformed into a lively district, filled with bustling restaurants, trendy cafes, and stylish boutiques. The hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the scents of grilled meats and fresh-baked bread wafting from nearby eateries. 

You paused for a moment, taking it all in. Stohess had been one of those streets you’d walk down during your university days, back when the sidewalks were cracked, and most of the storefronts were either closed or run down. It had been quiet back then—dull, even. Now, it was anything but. Strings of lights hung across the street, casting a soft glow on the crowds below, and every corner seemed to offer a new place to explore.

You spotted your other coworkers gathered inside one of the newer restaurants at the end of the block, already deep in conversation. You felt a brief flicker of nerves as you approached. It had been a while since you joined the team for anything social, and though you were close with your coworkers, you still found yourself feeling like an outsider in moments like this. You had always preferred the quiet of your office, the comfort of routine, but tonight, something about the vibrant energy of Stohess felt inviting.

You wonder if Kuchel’s is still standing? If it survived the enhancement of the street? Before, it was the only restaurant here. Despite that, she had quite a number of regulars. 

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Pixis called out when he saw you, his grin wide as ever. “We were about to send a search party.”

You smiled, feeling the tension ease as you and the others joined the group. “Had to finish up some work,” you said, slipping into the circle. 

“Finally, we’ve been wanting to hangout with Pixis’ new hire,” someone from the group chimed in. You gave them a smile.

“Thank you for inviting me here,” I replied as we sat down. 

Everyone introduced themselves and their department. When the conversation began to drift away from you, you take the time to admire the establishment while eating.

The restaurant had an open, welcoming feel—high ceilings, rustic wooden tables, and an open kitchen where you could see the chefs at work. It was a far cry from the quiet, almost forgotten street it used to be. As you settled in, you couldn’t help but glance out the window at the street beyond, watching as people hurried by, heading in and out of the various shops and restaurants. It was hard to believe this was the same Stohess, the same place where you, Levi, Erwin, and Hange used to hangout in. It’s where Kuchel fed you meals that filled your stomach with love and motherly care. 

The food came out in waves—plates of grilled meats, fresh salads, and dishes you didn’t even recognize but were eager to try. The noise of the restaurant faded into the background as you ate and talked, losing yourself in the warmth of the moment.

As the dinner continued, the lively hum of conversation filled the air, along with the clatter of silverware and the occasional burst of laughter from your team. You were halfway through a plate of roasted vegetables when the door of the restaurant rang open. A tall man in a neatly pressed suit stepped inside, his expression calm and composed despite the boisterous atmosphere.

Pieck, one of the paralegals that’s seated across from you, looked up and cheered. “Nanami!”

The tall blonde man—Nanami Kento, you presumed—acknowledged her with a polite nod in return before his gaze shifted toward the rest of the table. His eyes briefly met yours before he approached Pixis, shaking his hand with the same understated professionalism that marked his entire demeanor. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Nanami said, his voice low and steady. “Got caught up with a client.”

“No worries, Nanami,” Pixis replied, patting him on the back as he gestured to an empty chair beside you. “We saved you a spot. Have a seat.”

Nanami moved with quiet efficiency, his presence almost subdued compared to the lively energy of your coworkers. He took the seat next to you with a nod in your direction, and you noticed how his movements were deliberate, precise—like someone who didn’t waste time or energy on unnecessary actions. There was something about him that reminded you of Levi, though with a bit more restraint and formality.

“You must be from the corporate law department,” you ventured, breaking the ice as he adjusted his tie.

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re the new one from the family department, I assume?”

He turned to you, his expression as composed as ever. “That’s correct. And you’re from litigation, I assume?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m working on the class-action lawsuit involving the stock manipulation case.”

Nanami’s brow lifted ever so slightly in recognition. “Ah, I’ve heard about that one. High stakes. I imagine it’s been keeping you busy.”

You chuckled softly, swirling the wine in your glass. “Busy might be an understatement.”

He gave a small nod of understanding. “Corporate’s been hectic as well. Mergers, acquisitions—there’s always something.”

The conversation between the two of you flowed naturally, despite Nanami’s reserved demeanor. You found that, while he wasn’t particularly talkative, he had a quiet intellect and a sharp wit that revealed itself in subtle ways. There was a calmness to him that was almost soothing amidst the more boisterous energy of the team dinner. You can already tell that you’ll be getting along well. 

The conversation around the table continued, light and full of anecdotes about the latest cases, legal dramas, and a few well-timed jokes courtesy of Porco. But you found yourself intrigued by Nanami. Unlike many of the other senior lawyers, he had a quiet presence that demanded respect without saying much.

Eventually, you turned to him again. “Do you make it to these dinners often?”

Nanami shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not really. Usually, I’m tied up with clients. But Pixis can be… persuasive.”

You laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “I think that’s his talent. He has a way of getting us to take a break, even when we don’t want to.”

Nanami gave a slight chuckle, a rare sound from someone as composed as him. “It’s necessary, I suppose. Especially in this line of work.”

As the night began to settle, the conversation around the table started to thin out, with most of your coworkers drifting into smaller groups. You found yourself once again next to Nanami, who was calmly finishing his drink as the ambient noise of the restaurant hummed in the background. The light above the table cast a warm glow, making the lively street outside feel distant for a moment.

You tilted your head slightly, curious. “How long have you been in Paradis, Nanami?” 

“I’ve been here for four years,” he replied simply. “I moved here for the job.” 

“Do you like it here? The city? What do you think of it?”

Nanami glanced at you, his expression thoughtful as he set down his glass. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he was going to answer, but then he let out a quiet sigh, more out of reflection than fatigue.

“It’s… complicated,” he said, his eyes drifting to the window, watching the flickering lights of Stohess Street and the stream of people passing by. “When I first moved here, I thought it was overwhelming. The noise, the people, the constant movement. It felt… impersonal, in a way.”

You sigh, nodding in an understanding manner. “It didn’t used to be like this, you know?” 

That intrigued Nanami and he raised a brow. “Oh? You were from here?”

“Lived here all my life until I moved out seven years ago,” you admitted, leaning forward slightly. “It’s crazy how the city’s changed. I remember when this street was basically dead. Now it’s the place to be.”

Pixis, having heard of the conversation, chuckled while taking a sip of his drink. “That’s the city for you. Always changing, whether you like it or not.”

“I didn’t know the city can change so much in seven years.” The tiny amount of alcohol must be getting to you, making you pout a little, something a bit out of character.

His words, simple as they were, hit you in a way that made you pause. The city had changed, yes, just as Levi said. And in many ways, the chaos of your life mirrored the transformation of Stohess—a once quiet, predictable space, now filled with complexity and vibrancy. But why was this information being fed to you lately? What is it to you that the city is no longer it used to be? This city that pushed you away? 

“I used to work on this same street. On the only known restaurant here before,” I shared, feeling nostalgic and missing that time of my life again.

“Hold up,” Porco raised a hand with wide eyes. “You’re telling me you worked at Kuchel’s before?” 

“Yeah, I worked part-time there during my college years,” I replied, confused as to why it’s a big deal. 

“Wow, that’s kinda iconic,” Gabi, one of the interns, reacts.

You don’t hide your confusion, chuckling a little with furrowed brows. “What exactly am I missing here?”

Pieck, who had been mid-sip of her drink, nearly choked in surprise. “Kuchel’s? The same place that practically owns the entire block now?”

“So you probably know the Ackermans?” Pixis asked, his cheeks reddened and eyes fazed from the excessive drinking. It doesn’t look like he’s out of it though.

You blinked, even more confused now. “The whole block? What do you mean? And what of the Ackermans?”

Pixis nodded, equally astonished. “Yeah, Kuchel’s isn’t some small restaurant anymore. They’ve taken over Stohess Street. You’ve been away from the city, right? I guess you haven’t seen it but the Ackermans practically revamped the whole street, if not the whole city.” 

You stared at him, genuinely taken aback. “No, I didn’t realize. I’ve been away for the past seven years. I didn’t know it had grown that much.”

It was just a small, cozy place. Kuchel ran it herself and had no intentions of making it as they were describing the business now. It had to be Levi. That would explain all the wealth he had. But it didn’t occur to you that he would be able to accomplish much in the past seven years. Not that you think he’s incapable of it. It’s just… surprising. It even makes you feel a little proud—a feeling that you quickly buried. You don’t really have a reason to feel that way. 

Porco chuckled. “Well, times have definitely changed. Kuchel’s is the restaurant now. They’ve expanded, got two more locations across the city, and they’re practically a landmark here on Stohess Street. People come in from different cities to taste their food.” 

“Tell me about it. I interned once from a company and they had me reserve a table. The waiting is for at least four months! It’s ridiculous,” Falco shared. 

You couldn’t hide your surprise. In your mind, Kuchel’s was still that quiet, modest restaurant where you spent long nights waiting tables between exams. You remembered Kuchel herself—humble and hardworking, always talking about keeping the restaurant personal and authentic. The idea of her running an empire now felt surreal.

“I had no idea,” you said softly, glancing out the window at the bustling street. It now occured to you that this is what Levi meant when he said this city has changed more than you know. 

Nanami, who had been silently listening from his seat next to you, finally spoke up, his calm voice cutting through your thoughts. “Seven years is a long time to be away. The city can change fast, especially a place like this.”

You nodded slowly, still processing the idea. “Yeah… I guess I wasn’t expecting it to change so much. I knew some things would be different, but Kuchel’s… it was like a second home back then. It’s strange to think of it as something so big now.”

Pieck gave you a sympathetic smile. “I bet it feels weird, coming back to a place that’s so different from what you remember.”

Pixis leaned forward, grinning. “Well, you should check it out. Who knows, maybe Kuchel remembers you. You might get the VIP treatment.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I doubt it. I haven’t spoken to her in years.”

That and if Levi hates you now, she probably does too. You fear that even if it wasn’t you that reserved a table, she might even kick you the moment you stepped out of the restaurant. Even though you know that Kuchel wouldn’t have it in her heart to do that, your shame and anxiety gets the better of your thoughts as always.

“I actually have a reserved dinner table for the next weekend there given to me by a client after I won a case for them,” Nanami said suddenly, and you silently thank him in your mind for changing the topic. “Corporate people are wealthy people with connections,” he says with a face that doesn’t look arrogant but more of exhaustion. Although he carries himself with poise and professionalism, Nanami genuinely looks like he’s in dire need of a vacation. It seems like you found yourself another workaholic like you. 

“No way! Are you going with someone?” Pieck asked, eyes wide with excitement.

Nanami thinks for a moment, tilting his head. “Well… the table is for two. But I plan on going alone.”

“You should definitely bring someone,” Pixis chimed in. “Go get yourself a date and relax, Nanami. Life shouldn’t be all about work at your age.” 

The blonde stayed silent in deep thought but he did smile politely for Pixis. “Or if you don’t want to, why don’t you bring our new girl over here? You workaholics both need a breather.” 

And just like that, it’s once again your turn to be put on the spot. Everyone at the table looks at you and Nanami in excitement. With widened eyes, you immediately refuse. “Oh, please, you don’t have to do that, Nanami. Pixis…” You almost plea with your boss using your eyes to take back his words. 

Pixis opens his mouth again but Nanami interrupts him, shocking you. “That’s actually a good idea. Would you want to come with me?”

“I couldn’t possibly impose.” You start thinking about how to get out of this while wondering why Nanami actually agreed. You hoped he didn’t. 

“Oh, yes, you could. Maybe you could even see one of the Ackermans and get your own reservation! Maybe get the team a table?” 

The atmosphere at the table grew lighter, but you couldn’t ignore the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. Nanami had just thrown you into an unexpected spotlight, and you found yourself struggling to figure out how to respond. You blinked, your mind racing for a way to politely decline without making the situation awkward.

Nanami, sitting calmly beside you, didn’t seem fazed by the suggestion. His composed demeanor didn’t reveal whether he was truly interested in the idea or just going along with Pixis’ suggestion out of politeness. Still, there was a gentleness in his expression—no pressure, just a simple offer hanging in the air between you.

“I don’t think I could manage a reservation with the Ackermans,” you said, trying to shift the focus away from yourself and back to the others. “Besides, Nanami’s the one with the connections here, not me.”

Porco grinned, raising his glass. “Come on, don’t be shy. It’s not every day you get an invite to dinner at Kuchel’s.”

“You two would be the envy of everyone,” Pieck added with a playful wink. “I mean, imagine us mere mortals trying to get in there without waiting months.”

Pixis laughed. “You should definitely take the chance. Plus, it’ll give you both a break from work.”

You let out a small laugh, hoping to diffuse the attention. “It sounds tempting, but I’m sure Nanami has someone else in mind he’d rather take. I mean, who goes to dinner with their coworker when they can invite anyone?”

Nanami, who had been quiet during the back-and-forth, turned to you with a soft smile, his voice low and considerate. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. But there’s no pressure, of course. It’s just dinner.”

There was something so simple and straightforward in the way he said it that your initial hesitation began to wane. The offer wasn’t loaded with expectation; it was just an opportunity to share a meal in a place that held memories for you, and perhaps, as Pixis had suggested, to relax. You glanced back at Nanami, noticing the subtle tiredness beneath his composed exterior. In that moment, you realized you were both in need of a break—from work, from the pressures of the city, from everything.

“Alright,” you said slowly, almost surprising yourself as the words left your mouth. “I’ll go.”

The table erupted into cheers and light applause, with Pieck and Porco exchanging triumphant high-fives while Pixis gave you an approving nod. Nanami simply nodded, as calm and composed as ever, though there was a flicker of something warmer in his eyes.

“Great,” he said, his tone measured but sincere. “I’ll text you the time this weekend.”

Pieck leaned in, her voice teasing. “Well, now we’re all jealous. You two better enjoy it.”

As the conversation moved on to other topics, you sat back in your chair, still processing what had just happened. You hadn’t expected the evening to take this turn, nor had you thought about spending time with Nanami outside of work. He was a bit of an enigma—calm, collected, and quietly competent—but beneath that exterior, you sensed there was more to him. Maybe this dinner would reveal a side of him you hadn’t yet seen.

Either way, you found yourself oddly curious about how the evening at Kuchel’s would unfold. Maybe, for the first time in a long while, you’d allow yourself to enjoy the city again. Even if it was just for one night.

The following weekend arrived more quickly than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, you were standing outside Kuchel’s, the restaurant that now dominated Stohess Street. It had been years since you last stepped foot in the area, and the sight before you was almost unrecognizable. 

Nanami stood beside you, looking as composed as always. His suit was tailored perfectly, and despite his usual calm demeanor, there was a subtle shift in him tonight. Maybe it was the change of pace, stepping out of the office, or the significance of the restaurant itself. He caught your glance and offered a small smile, as if sensing your quiet apprehension.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steady but soft.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s strange seeing it like this.”

As you walked into Kuchel’s, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. Though the restaurant had expanded, its essence remained the same. The decor was more refined now, with soft lighting and elegant wooden furniture, but there was still a warmth to it. The scent of fresh herbs and cooking meats wafted through the air, a familiar comfort that made your shoulders relax despite the high-end surroundings.

The hostess greeted Nanami with a nod of recognition, leading you both to a private table near the back. It was quiet, away from the main bustle of the restaurant, giving the two of you some much-needed reprieve from the noise of the city outside.

“Thank you,” Nanami said to the hostess, who left you both with menus. He glanced at you once you were seated. “I hope this isn’t too overwhelming. I didn’t realize you hadn’t been back here in so long.”

You offered him a small smile, feeling more at ease now that you were inside. “It’s a bit surreal, but in a good way. I’m glad I came.” You paused, your eyes scanning the menu, then added, “And I appreciate the invitation.”

Nanami nodded, his gaze flickering across the restaurant before returning to you. “It’s nothing. I thought it would be nice to get out of the usual routine, and… I’ve heard a lot about this place from my clients. Seems like it holds some memories for you.”

You chuckled softly, placing the menu down. “More than I realized, actually. Back then, this was just a small family-owned spot. It’s kind of hard to believe it’s grown into something like this.”

Nanami’s eyes softened. “It must be strange to see it change so much.”

You nodded, leaning back in your chair, watching the patrons around you. “Yeah… I always felt like this place represented something simple. Quiet. Now it’s this buzzing, high-end place, and I’m not sure what to think.”

Nanami remained silent for a moment, giving you space to process. Then, he leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Places change. People do too. But sometimes, it’s not as different as it seems on the surface. There’s always something familiar, something worth remembering.”

You blinked at his words, surprised by the depth in them. He had a way of cutting through to the heart of things without much effort. “I guess you’re right. I didn’t expect to feel this way coming back here.”

You glanced at him, wondering how someone who always seemed so in control, so composed, could also carry a quiet sense of longing and understanding beneath that exterior. Maybe Pixis had been right. You and Nanami were alike in more ways than you had thought—both of you workaholics, both of you wrestling with the weight of your own expectations.

The waiter appeared, breaking the silence as he took your orders. You opted for something simple—something that reminded you of your college days here—while Nanami chose one of the house specialties. After the waiter left, the conversation picked up again, a little lighter this time.

“So,” Nanami said, leaning back in his chair with a rare, relaxed posture. “What was it like working here? I imagine it was a lot different than the law office.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Very different. I mostly waited tables, cleaned up after shifts. It was exhausting but rewarding in its own way. I liked the people I met—the college friends I made here. They really helped me out during those years.”

Nanami nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That’s admirable. I’m glad you had people who were there for you. Being a working student isn’t an easy task.”

You smiled, appreciating the shared sentiment. “Exactly. I think they were what kept me going–what made the experience memorable.” 

Nanami’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the two of you sat in a comfortable silence, simply taking in the atmosphere. It felt… peaceful. Different from the rushed, stressful energy of the office. Here, in this familiar but transformed place, there was space to breathe, to reflect.

When the food arrived, the conversation continued, flowing easily between work anecdotes and personal reflections. Nanami, despite his composed exterior, revealed snippets of himself—a man dedicated to his craft but aware of the toll it took on him. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing in his company, grateful for the unexpected invitation and the quiet camaraderie it had brought.

By the time dessert was served, you were no longer thinking about the changes that had happened to Kuchel’s or the city. Instead, you were just enjoying the present moment—something you hadn’t done in a long time. Besides, if the restaurant had grown into what they said it had, you probably won’t see any Ackerman in here. 

As you finished the last bite of your meal, Nanami leaned back, his gaze steady on you. “I think Pixis was right. We both needed this.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, I think so too.”

As you and Nanami lingered over the last sips of your drinks, the warm ambiance of Kuchel’s seemed to envelope you. The clinking of silverware and the soft murmur of conversation filled the air, but your conversation had quieted into a companionable silence. It had been a surprisingly pleasant evening, one that neither of you seemed in a rush to end. Suddenly, the people around you turned more quiet, looking in one direction. 

You looked up sharply, your heart skipping a beat. There, near the entrance, stood Levi Ackerman. His posture was relaxed but firm as he made his way into the place. You dropped your fork in shock, the utensil making a loud sound as it hit the porcelain plate. You curse yourself in your mind.

But before you can even hide yourself somehow, Levi turned, and his eyes fell on you. For a second, his gaze lingered before it shifted to Nanami beside you. A brief flicker of surprise crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual neutral expression. 

He made his way toward your table, his steps quiet and deliberate as always. Unlike since you last saw him, this Levi looked different as you remembered—sharp, composed, with that ever-present air of authority that somehow fit him so well.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you here,” Levi said, his tone even but laced with the barest hint of curiosity. His eyes flicked to Nanami again, sizing him up before returning to you. “Small world.”

Nanami, ever composed, offered a polite nod. “You must be the owner.”

Levi gave a faint nod in return. “Levi Ackerman. This place belonged to my mother.” His attention shifted back to you, and for the briefest moment, something softened in his gaze.

You blinked, still trying to process the fact that Levi was standing right in front of you. Memories from your time together—at university, at Kuchel’s, before everything had changed—rushed back, but you kept your voice steady. “Yeah, it has. I didn’t even know Kuchel’s had grown so much.”

Nanami’s eyes shifted between the two of you, picking up on the subtle history that lingered beneath the surface. “It’s a beautiful place,” he said, his tone respectful but distant, sensing the dynamic. “Thank you for the hospitality.”

Levi nodded once. “I’ll let you finish your meal.” He turned to leave but hesitated for a second, looking at you again.

With that, he walked back toward the kitchen, leaving you and Nanami in a silence that felt heavier than before. You could feel Nanami’s gaze on you, quiet but probing.

“Old friend?” he asked softly, though the question carried a weight of understanding.

You exhaled, glancing down at your empty plate before meeting Nanami’s eyes. “Yeah… something like that.”

Nanami didn’t press further, and you were grateful for his quiet understanding. The rest of the evening passed in a peaceful silence, the weight of nostalgia sitting comfortably between you both, until it was time to leave.

As you and Nanami stood up to leave, the night air of Stohess Street filtered through the open doors of Kuchel's, cool and refreshing against the warmth of the restaurant. You grabbed your coat, glancing at Nanami, who had already slipped into his usual calm composure. The evening had been unexpectedly pleasant, and the subtle connection you’d shared made you feel more at ease.

Just as you step out, you heard the faint chime of the entrance door swinging open. A familiar figure appeared in the doorway—Kuchel Ackerman herself.

She looked exactly as you remembered: graceful, yet with an air of quiet authority. Her hair was loosely tied back, a few silver strands woven through the dark, giving her a look of timeless elegance. 

Kuchel stopped when she saw you, her eyes widening with recognition and surprise. For a moment, she stood there, taking you in, as if trying to place you in the timeline of the restaurant’s long history.

"You," she murmured, her voice soft with disbelief but soon warming with familiarity. "It can't be."

Your heart raced and your nerves are all over the place. It’s one thing to be seen by Levi but another thing to also see the other Ackerman that holds much of your heart. 

Her face broke into a smile walking up to you with the same gentle but firm presence she had when you were younger. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said, her voice filled with both surprise and delight. “It’s been… what? Seven years?”

You smiled, taking a step toward her. "Kuchel. It’s been too long." You nodded, feeling the years stretch between you. “Yeah, seven years. I only just came back.”

Kuchel looked you over, her expression warm, though touched with nostalgia. “You haven’t changed much, except… you look more like you belong in one of those big offices now.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I guess a lot has changed. But this place…” You gestured around Kuchel’s. 

She tilted her head, her eyes softening. “I’m glad you feel that way. It’s grown so much, hasn’t it? Levi’s been working hard to expand.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you replied, thinking back to your earlier conversation with Levi. “It’s amazing what you’ve done here.”

Kuchel’s gaze flickered toward Nanami, who stood quietly beside you, ever the composed observer. “And who’s this?”

You introduced him, and Nanami gave a small, respectful nod. Kuchel returned his greeting with a knowing smile, her eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Another lawyer, huh? You sure know how to pick your friends,” she teased lightly, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.

Nanami, ever polite, added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Your restaurant is exceptional.”

Kuchel smiled, clearly pleased. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She glanced back at you. “I should have guessed you’d find your way back here eventually. This place has a way of pulling people in.”

You smiled softly. “It really does. I’m glad I came.”

Kuchel reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Don’t be a stranger now that you’re back. This place is always open for you.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that had been missing for a while. “I won’t.”

Her expression is softer now, with a smile that carried the warmth of an old friend. “Actually, Before you go… how about you join me for dinner sometime next week? Just us,” she added with a glance at Nanami, as if sensing this had been more of a business dinner. “I’d love to catch up properly. It’s been too long, and I’m sure there’s plenty to talk about.”

For a moment, you hesitated, feeling the weight of time between the last time you sat down with Kuchel and now. The thought of stepping back into that part of your life, of Levi’s life, even for a night, stirred something inside you—nostalgia, perhaps, or a little trepidation. But Kuchel’s invitation felt genuine, and you knew, deep down, that reconnecting with her might be exactly what you needed.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I’d love that, Kuchel.”

Kuchel’s face lit up, and she nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I’ll even be the one to cook something special,” she teased, though you could tell she wasn’t entirely joking. 

Nanami, who had been standing quietly by your side, gave a subtle nod of approval. “It sounds like a perfect opportunity to reconnect.”

You glanced at him, grateful for his understanding, before turning back to Kuchel. “I won’t forget,” you promised.

“Good.” Kuchel smiled once more before retreating back into the restaurant, leaving you standing at the threshold of the bustling street, feeling strangely at peace.

As you and Nanami finally walked away from Kuchel’s, the cool night air wrapping around you, the quiet between you was no longer awkward or heavy. Instead, it felt comfortable—a shared understanding of the complexities of the past and the people who shaped it.

Nanami glanced at you, his tone measured but kind. “You’ve got a lot of history here.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking back at the restaurant, now glowing behind you in the night. “I do.”

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

[4] Expendable Hearts (Levi x F!Reader)

Chapter 4: Earl Grey

WC: 7,120 Chapter Warnings: angst again ^^ (they need to communicate), also unedited Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. Note: At least it didn't take a year this time?

story masterlist | prev chapter > next chapter

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across your small apartment. You sat on the couch, Earl nestled beside you, his sleek black fur shimmering in the sunlight that streamed through the window. A bowl of Earl's favorite tuna-flavored kibble rested between them, and you carefully scooped a handful into his waiting dish.

"Here you go, Earl," you murmured, voice soft and soothing. Earl's green eyes gleamed with anticipation as he watched the kibble tumble into the bowl. With a gentle nudge of his head, he began to nibble contentedly.

You smiled, your fingers absently stroking Earl's fur as she watched him eat. It was moments like these that you cherished — quiet mornings filled with the simple pleasure of caring for your companion.

The kitchen clock ticked steadily on the wall, reminding you of the peaceful passage of time. It was Sunday, a day she reserved for leisure and relaxation. Outside, the neighborhood was bathed in the golden light of morning, with the distant sound of cars honking and people shouting. Despite the chaos that the neighborhood offered, it should be a peaceful day… if only you aren’t aware of a certain raven-haired man on the way to your apartment. 

"You're going to have a good day today, aren't you, Earl?" you murmured, your voice tinged with affection. Earl looked up at her, his green eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, as if he understood every word. “That man I used to tell you about, he’s coming.” 

After finishing his breakfast, Earl stretched lazily, arching his back and then padding over to you. He rubbed against your leg, purring loudly, before settling down at your feet. You chuckled softly, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. "You're such a charmer," you whispered.

Together, they basked in the tranquil morning, you sipping you coffee as Earl curled up beside you. The sunlight danced across the room, casting playful shadows on the walls. 

When the clock struck nine, you were agitatedly waiting for Levi to arrive. He hasn’t texted or called to follow up or confirm he was even coming, making you doubt if he was even aware of it. You’ve pondered just asking Hange for the address, but when you texted her, she assured you that Levi was coming. 

You were aware that the appointment isn’t until the end hour but you were biting your nails, your nerves acting up all of a sudden. Should you dress up? Was it alright that you were just wearing jeans and a tight fitting top? For some reason, you feel like you should dress up. Hell, you even put on more makeup than your usual corporate look.

“Earl, do you think he’s coming?” 

The cat purred, jumping to your side on the couch. You run your thumb on his head, petting him softly. Just then, your phone pinged with a notification. A two-word text from an unknown number.

Come down. 

It’s no mistake that it’s Levi. You could almost hear his commanding and aloof tone through the pixels. Rushing, you take one last look in the mirror, you pat your hair and smile at yourself. But just like being dumped with cold water, your smile drops as you realize your action and your hand flies up to slap your cheek lightly. 

What the hell is wrong with you? This is not a date or even a friendly get together.

You make sure everything in your apartment is in check before grabbing your coat. You bid your pet farewell and hurried down and out of your apartment complex. 

Like it was on cue, the moment you stepped on the pavement, you heard the low but powerful hum of an engine approaching. A sleek black Audi glides into view. The car stops smoothly in front of you and you look around, a few people outside staring at the car with an odd expression on their face. 

You don’t move. Instead, you take a step back. You don’t even know if this is Levi. The windows are tinted and you don’t know his plate number or car model. 

Before you can pull up your phone to ask Levi, the car window rolls down, revealing the man himself. 

“Get in,” he says curtly, his expression composed as ever. 

You open the door and slide into the passenger seat, immediately noticing the immaculate interior. The leather seats are impeccably clean, and the subtle scent of expensive cologne fills the air. You wouldn’t expect less from Levi. He glances at you briefly before shifting the car into gear. 

Although you want to look at him, you avoid doing that and avert your gaze beyond the car itself and to your surroundings. The people in your neighborhood still watched the vehicle even as Levi drove away. They don’t seem to be in awe of the car. Somehow, they looked wary… maybe even afraid? You found this strange but brush it away. Maybe it’s just weird seeing a different social class driving along The Underground. Maybe you were just reading into it too much. 

Levi is silent the whole ride. He navigates the streets with precision, every turn and lane change executed flawlessly. The car’s performance seems like a natural extension of Levi’s own skills and discipline.

As you reach your destination, Levi parks the car with the same precision he’s shown throughout the drive. He looks at you, his eyes sharp yet calm. You stare back. He doesn’t look like he’s gonna say anything so you open your mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” he beats you to it. “If you’re going to say something about what happened in the elevator. Just don’t.”

You were taken aback and you remember his face when you left. Guilt consumes you once again but you don’t let it show on your face. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you mumbled. “I was gonna say that you could leave me here. I know Hange probably forced you to come. I think I can find my way back from here.”

“Tch,” he responds with his usual expression. 

He gets out of the car without a word for you to follow and yet you do so anyway. You gave him a choice to leave but he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere. You wondered if it’s also his day off. What could his job be? Maybe an office job or managing the restaurant? Could Kuchel’s still be up and running? You hope it is. Although you want to visit Levi’s mother, you’re not sure if she would welcome you like before. 

The wedding boutique’s interior is just as sophisticated as its exterior. Soft lighting illuminates racks of exquisite dresses, each piece more stunning than the last. The air is filled with the subtle scent of fresh flowers, adding to the refined atmosphere.

A sales assistant approaches, eyes shifting from you to Levi. “Good morning, ma’am and sir. Looking for a wedding dress?” 

You and Levi take an awkward glance at each other before he clears his throat. “No. We’re here for the ten o’clock appointment. The refitting?” He states simply. 

The sales assistant nods enthusiastically, apologizing for her mistake. “Ah, yes! For Ms. Zoe’s bridesmaid. Please wait here.” 

She ushered you both to a waiting area. You sit side by side on the couch. There are racks of wedding dresses around you and on mannequins. You take your time to admire them while Levi scrolls through his phone. 

You’re happy for Hange that she’s settling down. She looked really happy with Moblit and he seemed utterly in love with her as well. Although her personality hasn’t changed, there seemed to be some maturity around her that you weren’t familiar with. 

At the moment, marriage isn’t something that you can see yourself in. But god, the dresses are so pretty. You don’t really get to wear gowns like that. 

For a moment, you think about it, maybe as a result of you haven’t eaten breakfast. If a ring adorned your finger, what wedding dress would you like best? You think you’d like something with a petticoat, something that would make you feel like a princess. Your eyes caught one that you adored. It’s on a mannequin. You could picture yourself wearing it. In all honesty, this is the first time you’ve thought about weddings in years. And you do see the irony of doing that with your ex-boyfriend sitting beside you. 

Your trail of thoughts were cut off when the sales assistant came out from the room she went into. “Miss, we’re ready for you here. Your boyfriend can accompany you inside.” She points to the room with a gesture of her palms laid outwards. 

“Not her boyfriend,” Levi nonchalantly reacts and the disgust in his tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give the girl an awkward smile. He wasn’t wrong and yet you can’t help but feel offended at the way he reacted so quickly as if he found the thought repulsive. 

“He’ll stay here. Or leave… if he wants to.” You give him a glance to which he scoffed at. The sales assistant awkwardly laughs, seemingly noticing the tension in the room. 

“Ah, I’m sorry again for assuming. Please forgive me. Do you need any refreshments as you wait here, sir?” She asks Levi while you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. 

“No, thank you.” Levi stands up from his seat and you could see the sales assistant’s eyes wilter for a moment at his rejection. God, he’s rude. 

“I’ll be coming inside as well,” he continues, shocking you. 

“What? You don’t have to do that,” you whisper to his side. 

He doesn’t take no for an answer, heading inside first and brushing past you. You look up at the ceiling, praying nothings above to give you enough patience for this time.

You stood in front of the mirror, tugging the waist of the dress. It was a tube top, which you don’t often wear. Sleeves accompany your arms most of the time and right now? They feel naked. Despite that, the dress is nice. The fabric hugged you in all the right places. But your nerves were more due to the fact that Levi was sitting just a few feet away, casually scrolling through his phone. You hate to admit that until now, he still makes you nervous.

Levi hadn’t even looked up when she stepped out of the dressing room. He was sitting straight up in the plush chair, legs crossed, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. His dark hair flopped slightly over his forehead, and his posture was so relaxed it bordered on dismissive. And you were right, he is scrolling and typing on his phone like his mind is entirely somewhere else.

“Oh, it’s perfect. Magnifique!” The tailor clasped his hands, catching Levi’s attention. 

He looks up and drags his eyes up and down your form. It took all of you not to show your nervousness at his reaction. And yet, like a child waiting, you look at the people in the room with a smile.

“How’s it look?” you asked, your voice trying to sound casual, but the weight of the situation made it come out more forced than you intended.

Levi doesn’t take his eyes off you as you asked, just for a moment, then back at his phone. “Looks fine,” he muttered, tapping at the screen.

Your smile faltered. You turned back to the mirror, adjusting the tube in the hope of distracting yourself from the pang of disappointment in her chest. You weren’t sure why you expected him to be more... invested. He was here as a favor to Hange, your mutual friend. Not to you. 

“Is something wrong, madame?” The tailor asked.

Your eyes widened as your eyes shifted to the reflection of the tailor in the mirror and you shook your head. “Oh! Nothing, no. It’s just… I’m not really used to wearing tube top dresses. Don’t my arms look kind of awkward?” 

“Nonsense, madame. You look beautiful!” The joyful tailor said flamboyantly. 

You purse your lips, looking at your reflection again. This was all so sudden and you kinda wished you had more time to prepare. It’s been a while since you dressed up like this. It’s like seeing yourself in a whole different light. After focusing on your career and all, you guess you’ve neglected your appearance. 

The tailor noticed your silence. “But if you’re uncomfortable, we can add straps or alter it to your liking. It’s no big deal.”

“Oh, please don’t. You don’t have to do that,” you tell her. “It’s perfect.” The thought of imposing more will only burden you and make you more uncomfortable. Anyway, you’ll only be wearing it for a day. 

The tailor nods. “So this measurement is good, then.”

“Yes, I think I’m done here,” you said after a beat, your voice quieter now.

As you stepped back into the dressing room to change, you could hear him tapping away on his phone again, already checked out of the moment. You took a deep breath. You sighed quietly, fiddling with your hair as you stared at your reflection. You weren’t sure why you felt disappointed at his reaction. It was like he found it repulsive to even look at you. It made you wonder… does he still find you attractive? You hated that it bothered you this much. 

It took you a while to change, carefully taking the dress off without misplacing the pins and all. When you emerged from the dressing room, Levi was nowhere to be found. It only made you feel worse. But at least your stomach was no longer in knots. It always felt that way when he was in sight. 

You approached the sales assistant who was also in the room, obligated to give her an apology for how Levi reacted. She smiles when you reach her and tells you that the tailor began to work on the dress and had stepped out.

“Hey, I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. He’s rude but he’s not always like that,” you tell her but you know it’s half a lie. Levi doesn’t really do well with strangers, especially if he’s in a bad mood. You guessed he hasn’t really at all changed. There’s still that introvert inside him. Or maybe you just trigger it with your presence. 

The sales assistant gives you a reassuring smile, a genuine one that you differentiated from her usual customer service one. “It’s fine, ma’am. I experienced worse…” 

Her last words trail before she paused for a while, stopping herself as if she wanted to say something else. You tilt your head in curiosity. “What is it?”

“Nothing ma’am. It’s just… I thought you were a couple because of how he was looking at you when you weren’t looking,” she replied shyly, a hand scratching the back of her neck.

Your smile drops as you hear what she had to say, that fluttering feeling in your stomach that had gone dormant in years was alive once again. 

“What?” you mutter, feeling your face heat up. 

“I’m sorry. I think I overstepped once again, ma’am.”

“You’re not, don’t worry about it,” you assure her. You point at the door with your thumb. “Is he still outside?”

“He stepped out. But his car is still outside so I don’t think he left, ma’am.” 

The sales assistant redirects you back to the waiting area. As she does, you take your phone out of your bag and pull out your messaging app to text the same number who called you earlier. 

Where did you go?

Had something urgent. My secretary will drive you.

As if on cue, the front door’s bell dings, indicating it had just been open and boy probably in his early twenties walks in. He has a buzz cut and a shining glimmer in his eyes. He wears a polo shirt and slacks. 

“O-Oh, you’re done, miss?” He says as his eyes land on you. Your mouth parts, unsure why this stranger is addressing you. He says your name as a question and you nod in confusion.

“Ah! Pardon me. My name is Connie. I’m Mr. Levi’s personal secretary. He asked me to fetch and drive you. He was needed there.” 

Secretary? Not only does he have an Audi, he has an assistant running errands for him on a Sunday? And how could he just leave without telling you? 

You smiled at Connie. Although you don’t find the stranger suspicious, it’s still a bit much to get in the car with him. It’s more of you thinking you’d be imposing. He could be doing better things. 

“You don’t need to do that, Connie. I can get home by myself.”

Connie’s eyes widened and he brought his hands up frantically waving. “No, no, no. I have specific orders from Sir Levi. I also have breakfast for you ready in the car.” 

That caught you off guard. Breakfast? He got you breakfast? 

“Levi asked you to get me breakfast?” 

“Yes, ma’am. He was very specific with what to get.”

“What?”

“Oh crap,” he mutters to himself as if it wasn’t information that he should’ve disclosed to you. “Can we go to the car now, ma’am?” 

In a trance of thoughts, you nod aimlessly and follow the boy outside. He guides you to the car and even opens the door for you. He sits you on the backseat. Connie enters the car to the driver’s seat. 

“How long have you been working for Levi, Connie?”

Striking up a conversation seemed like a good idea instead of sitting in silence and so you did just that. As you speak, Connie hands you a paper bag that rested from where you sat earlier in the morning, making you mumble a quick thank you as you accepted it. 

“I’ve been working with Mr. Ackerman for years,” he said proudly, grinning.

“Years? He must really like you then,” you said, amused and chuckling.

“I really hope he does, ma’am. It was tough, if you know what I mean?” He gives you a mischievous look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t tell him this but I used to cry in the comfort room in the first month that I worked for him.” 

A three-second silence in the car and he immediately takes back what he said. “Shit. Overshared. Sorry.”

You huffed and let out an amused chuckle that turned into laughter. Connie laughs back, bringing up a hand to scratch the back of his head. He did that twice already, you gathered by now that it’s a mannerism. 

“I can see why he does, you know, why he likes you,” you shared. “He needs people like you,” you added. 

Levi keeps people around his life when he likes them. Erwin keeps him in check. Hange pulls him out of his shell. And you? What was your purpose in his life? What did you have to offer him back when you had him? 

Your eyes drift to the paper bag beside you. Peeking through it, you see a green drink and pastry. Matcha and Blueberry muffin. Your heart swells and you have to close your lids to stop the overwhelming emotions that threaten to come out. The smell is purely nostalgia. 

The quiet hum of fluorescent lights was the only sound that punctuated the silence of the library as you huddled over her textbooks, your brow furrowed in concentration. The dusty scent of old paper and leather bound you in a cocoon of academia, the world beyond the heavy oak doors fading into insignificance.

In the middle of you losing yourself in a particular chapter of your reading, a soft but familiar deep voice broke through the stillness. “You’ve been here all morning?” 

You looked up to see Levi standing there, arms crossed and giving you a concerned look. 

He slipped into the chair across from you, his presence is warm and comforting, a disruption to your heavy mind and the coldness of the place. 

“Yeah, I’m almost finished with this reading,” you whisper to him. 

“Have you eaten, at least?” He asked, pulling out his laptop.

“Yeah,” you replied back, nonchalant and obviously lying. You know he doesn’t like it when you skip breakfast and always argues when you don’t. You were never really big on breakfast, you never felt the need for it. You don't like the feeling of being full in the morning. However, Levi lived a life with a cook for a mother, so having breakfast was a must in his vocabulary. Most of your life was spent hustling. Being fast. Mornings were made up of getting ready, having half a cup of coffee, and making your way to school early in the morning. 

“You’re lying,” he states the obvious with disappointment in his voice.

“It’s almost 10. It’s just two hours before lunch time anyway,” you shrug. 

“That’s bullshit,” he replied, shaking his head.

Erwin and Hange came by as he said it, following Levi like the trio that they are. 

“Can you lovebirds not argue in the library?” Erwin whispered as the two of them sat down. 

Levi slides out of his chair quietly while turning down his laptop screen. 

“Get up,” he demanded straight at you. You look up at him, confused and a bit annoyed. You were almost done with the reading. 

“I’m almost done,” you refused, burying your face back on the paper. 

Levi sighed audibly, the kind of sigh that meant he wasn’t going to drop it anytime soon. You could feel his eyes on you, unwavering and expectant. The weight of his gaze was enough to break your concentration on the reading. It was like a silent battle, one you knew you wouldn’t win, not when it came to Levi and his insistence on taking care of you in his own stubborn way.

“Get up,” he repeated, voice firmer this time. He wasn’t budging, and you knew he’d stand there as long as it took for you to listen.

You glanced up at him, your expression caught between exasperation and defeat. He wasn’t about to let this go, and as much as you wanted to finish your chapter, you could already feel the familiar pull of his unspoken concern. Levi’s brand of care was persistent, never showy, but impossible to ignore.

Hange leaned over the table, grinning mischievously, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Better do what he says, or we’re all going to hear about it for the rest of the day.”

“Come on, just humor him,” Erwin added with a slight smirk, though he kept his voice low in the quiet library.

Levi didn’t wait for your reply this time. With a swift motion, he closed your book gently but decisively, tucking it under his arm. His other hand reached out, hovering near you, but not touching—an offering, rather than a demand. He wasn’t going to drag you out, but his patience was running thin.

“Let’s go,” he said, more quietly now, his tone softening just a little. “Five minutes. We’ll grab something, and you can finish your reading after.”

You wanted to protest, but the look in his eyes—steady, unrelenting—told you it was a lost cause. It wasn’t really about the food. It was about him needing to make sure you were okay, even when you didn’t think it mattered. 

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, brushing off the nonexistent dust on your jeans. “Fine,” you muttered, though the fight had gone out of your voice.

Levi gave a small nod of approval, turning toward the door without a word. You followed, casting one last glance at the table and the chapter you had been so close to finishing. Hange gave you a teasing wink as you passed, and Erwin, ever the composed one, simply smiled knowingly.

As the two of you stepped out into the crisp morning air, the library’s warmth replaced by the gentle chill, Levi’s pace slowed just enough for you to fall in step beside him. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. The silence between you was comfortable, like slipping into something familiar, something safe. Despite his earlier gruffness, Levi’s presence was calming, grounding. 

After a few minutes of walking, he broke the silence. “There’s a café around the corner. You’ll like it. They’ve got good tea.”

“Not coffee?” you teased lightly, trying to lift the mood.

“Figured tea would go easier on you,” he replied, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips twitched, almost like he was trying to hide a smile.

You couldn’t help but smile back, a small one, but genuine. Levi always had this way of knowing what you needed, even when you didn’t ask. He was stubborn, but his quiet care ran deeper than words could ever express.

As you walked together, the tension from the morning dissolved, leaving behind a warmth that wasn’t just from the sun filtering through the trees. It was the kind of warmth that only Levi brought with him—steady, comforting, and constant, even when you didn’t realize you needed it.

You took a moment to breathe, the cool air outside replaced by the comforting warmth of the café. The stack of readings and the stress from earlier seemed to slip away, replaced by the calm of the moment. When Levi returned, he set a cup of matcha in front of you and a plate with two blueberry muffins.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were just grabbing something quick.”

He slid into the chair across from you, his own cup of black tea in hand. “You need more than just tea. Eat.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his insistence but reached for a muffin anyway. The soft texture and burst of blueberry sweetness were enough to remind you just how hungry you actually were. You took a bite, and Levi watched you, sipping his tea silently, but his expression was lighter now, less tense.

“Better?” he asked, though it was less of a question and more of a check-in, like he needed to hear you confirm it.

“Better,” you admitted, taking another bite.

He nodded once, satisfied, and turned his attention to his tea. The steam rose from his cup, and he closed his eyes briefly as he took a slow sip, savoring the warmth. You watched him for a moment, appreciating how he could find calm in the simplest things—like the taste of tea or the quiet atmosphere of a small café.

“So, you’ve got me here, eating muffins,” you started, breaking the comfortable silence. “What’s the plan? Gonna keep babysitting me, or can I finish my reading after this?”

Levi smirked, setting his cup down. “You can finish your reading after this. Just didn’t want you passing out in the middle of it.” His tone was teasing, but there was a flicker of concern behind his words, subtle but there.

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t pass out.”

“Right,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you’ve never done that before?”

You bit your lip, knowing exactly what he was referring to. That one time during finals week… but that was different. You’d been exhausted from back-to-back exams. Still, Levi wasn’t wrong. You had a habit of pushing yourself too hard.

“Okay, okay, point taken,” you conceded, taking a sip of your matcha. “Thanks, by the way. For this.”

Levi gave a small shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “No need to thank me. Just don’t make it a habit.”

You smiled at that, though a part of you was still processing the strange dynamic between you two. Levi was always there when it mattered, even when things were complicated between you. He wasn’t the type to make grand gestures, but he showed up in these small, quiet ways—making sure you ate, pulling you out of your own head, grounding you when you didn’t even realize you needed it.

You nodded, taking another bite of your muffin, content to sit in comfortable silence as you both worked. Occasionally, Levi’s eyes would flicker up from his screen to check on you, a small gesture you pretended not to notice.

As the morning stretched into midday, the café buzzed quietly around you, but in this little corner by the window, it felt like the world outside didn’t exist. The warmth of the matcha, the sweetness of the blueberry muffins, and Levi’s steady presence beside you made everything feel lighter, less daunting.

Since then, it became a routine for the two of you. Blueberry muffins and matcha. The perfect way to start your day with your boyfriend, Levi. 

In your apartment, you sat at the table, cradling a warm cup of matcha between your hands, the aroma of the freshly baked blueberry muffins filling the air. It was something familiar, something comforting. You absentmindedly pulled off a piece of the muffin, the tart sweetness of the blueberries mingling with the warmth of the soft pastry, and let it linger on your tongue. It was a flavor that always brought you back to him, to Levi.

For a brief moment, you missed the way it was—if the distance between you two wasn’t so carefully maintained. You wondered what it would feel like to feel his warmth again. But you pushed the thought aside. Whatever this was, for now, it was enough. And for once, you let yourself enjoy it.

The stillness of the apartment, the absence of his voice or the low, comforting rumble of him sipping tea across from you—these were the things that haunted the corners of your mind when you least expected it. 

You sipped the matcha slowly, closing your eyes for a moment, letting its earthy flavor settle in your chest. You could almost hear him scolding you, telling you to eat something more substantial, to stop skipping meals. His voice was still so clear in your head, even though he wouldn’t do that anymore. You smiled faintly at the thought, more out of habit than anything else.

The muffin in front of you sat half-eaten, but you weren’t really hungry. Not in the way Levi always worried about. You picked at it absentmindedly, your mind drifting back to those mornings in the café, where everything felt like it was on pause—like whatever was broken between you two didn’t matter in that quiet space. You’d sit there, stealing glances at each other, filling the air with comfortable silence, pretending for a little while that nothing had changed.

But everything had. 

You took another sip of your drink, eyes drifting toward the window. The city outside was bustling, indifferent to the quiet memories you clung to. Life moved forward, as it always did. It was more of a soft ache, the kind that settled in the background, always there but not overwhelming. You’d made peace with the fact that it had ended, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss the way things had been—how easy it was to just be around him, how he knew you better than most people, even in the smallest ways. 

Earl’s soft purr pulls you out of your thoughts for a moment and you watch as he jumps from the other chair to your lap. You pet his head and chuckle a little.

“Earl Grey, you were named after his eyes, you know?” 

And then after the longest time, you let yourself drop a tear for him. Then came another. And another. 

The day went by pretty quickly. It was late when the knock at your door came, breaking the peaceful stillness of your apartment. You were curled up on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through a book you had already read twice. Earl, your cat, was nestled on your lap, purring softly as he kneaded into your blanket. You weren’t expecting anyone, but a small part of you, maybe even hopeful, already knew who it was. 

You stood up, setting the book aside and carefully placing Earl on the couch, his displeased meow following you as you made your way to the door. When you opened it, there was Levi, standing in the dim light of the hallway, hands in his pockets, looking as stoic and nonchalant as ever.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your handkerchief—the one you had carelessly left in the passenger seat of his car earlier that day. It was checkered pink with your name at the corner, one of the few your grandmother had embroidered herself for you. 

You stared at the handkerchief for a moment, surprised he’d come all the way back just for that. “You didn’t have to come all this way, Levi,” you said, though you couldn’t hide the soft gratitude in your voice.

He shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Figured you’d want it back.” 

His eyes flickered past you, into the warm light of your apartment, where Earl was now perched on the back of the couch, eyeing Levi with a curious but lazy gaze.

Levi noticed the cat immediately, his expression softening just a fraction. “Didn’t know you had a cat,” he remarked, his voice low as he took a step inside, uninvited but not unwelcome. He quietly removes his shoes and puts them beside your outdoor shoes. Confused but accepting, you close your door and approach the two.

“Yeah, Earl,” you replied, following his gaze to the fluffy black cat now making his way down from the couch, padding silently toward Levi like he was sizing him up. 

Earl stopped a few feet from Levi, sitting down elegantly and staring up at him, his green eyes narrowing as if judging whether or not this stranger was worth his attention. Levi, to your surprise, crouched down slightly, meeting the cat’s gaze without blinking. It was such a Levi thing to do—silent, direct, and somehow commanding without even trying.

“Earl, huh?” Levi muttered. “He’s got a lot of attitude for a cat.”

You chuckled softly, watching as Earl sniffed at Levi’s shoes before giving a satisfied flick of his tail and brushing against Levi’s legs. You didn’t expect Earl to warm up so quickly, but there he was, already purring as Levi reached out to scratch behind his ears.

“Guess he likes you,” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe. “He doesn’t do that with most people.”

Levi glanced up at you, one eyebrow raised slightly. “Smart cat,” he said, standing back up. “Knows who to trust.”

The comment hung in the air for a moment, lingering with a weight neither of you wanted to address. You weren’t sure how to respond, so instead, you bent down and scooped Earl up, holding him close to your chest as his purring grew louder.

Levi handed you the handkerchief, his fingers brushing yours briefly as you took it from him. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice softer now.

“Yeah, no problem.” He shifted on his feet, glancing around the apartment briefly, like he was trying to decide whether or not to stay longer.

“I apologize for leaving abruptly earlier,” he pauses for a while before continuing. “I had something urgent.”

“As you and your secretary told me,” you answer. You weren’t really holding a grudge about that. You don’t know why he came all this way to tell you that. “Thank you for the breakfast, by the way.” 

He gave a small nod, his face unreadable as always, but there was something in his eyes—something soft and unspoken. 

“Have you eaten dinner?” 

For a brief second, the two of you stood there in the living room, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you both. Earl wiggled in your arms, clearly done with the moment, and you set him back down, watching as he padded off toward his bed near the window.

“I… haven’t.” 

“Do you want me to cook something?” It was a simple offer, but it felt heavy between you. Levi blinked, like the question caught him off guard, though he masked it quickly.

“To pay for the breakfast,” you add quickly with an awkward smile. 

“Yeah,” he said after a pause, his voice steady. “I could stay.”

You felt a strange wave of relief, mixed with nervousness. It wasn’t like you hadn’t shared meals with him before, but this felt different now. 

“Well, I wasn’t planning anything fancy,” you said, moving toward the kitchen, feeling a bit unsure of yourself. “But I could make us something quick. Pasta okay?”

Levi leaned against the counter, watching you as you opened the fridge. “Pasta’s fine,” he replied.

He didn’t respond, but you caught the subtle twitch of his lips. It felt almost normal—like slipping back into an old routine without realizing it.

As you started boiling water and prepping ingredients, Levi moved around the small kitchen, grabbing plates and silverware, his movements as efficient and familiar as ever. Neither of you spoke much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It was filled with the soft clattering of utensils and the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables.

His attention is briefly on Earl, who had taken to watching Levi’s every move with mild curiosity. “Your cat’s a stalker.”

You chuckled, tossing some garlic into the pan. “He’s just making sure you’re not a threat.”

“You said he liked me,” Levi muttered again, though you could tell he didn’t mind Earl’s presence at all. In fact, it seemed like Levi was actually enjoying the quiet company of the little observer.

As you cooked, the kitchen filled with the comforting scent of garlic and olive oil, the sizzle of the pan a soothing backdrop. Levi set the table quietly, his movements almost instinctive, like he’d done this a hundred times before. The two of you worked in sync, no need for instructions or small talk, just moving around each other as if nothing had changed.

When the pasta was done, you brought the pot over to the table, serving two generous portions. Levi settled into the chair across from you, picking up his fork and twirling the pasta around it. The first bite was met with a small nod of approval from him.

“Still the same,” he said, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if he was talking about the cooking or the way you fit so naturally into this space together.

You smiled, taking a bite yourself. “I had a good teacher,” you say, thinking about the raven-haired woman who Levi holds so dearly in his heart. You miss her in these kinds of moments, you wondered how she felt about you now. 

“How’s Kuchel?” 

“The same,” he answers shortly. “Everything in this city has changed except for her.”

You wondered what he meant by that. But in the sake of keeping up the small talk, you say the first words that pop up in your mind. 

“You don’t look like you changed at all, either.”

You really didn’t mean it in a bad way. But it seemed to have triggered something in your meal companion. His jaw clenches before chewing faster. Your heart races when you notice it upset him.

“And you haven’t either,” he responds, a bitter malice in his tone.

“I don’t mean it like that,” you try to save the peace that enveloped you two a minute ago. 

He doesn’t say anything else and you don’t either, afraid you’d say anything bad to upset him enough to leave with his meal unfinished. You don’t want that. In fact, you didn’t want him to leave. But you don’t want to admit that to yourself either. 

The meal continued in a comfortable silence after, broken occasionally by the sound of Earl jumping down from the windowsill to investigate Levi’s shoes or the clinking of silverware against plates. There was something surreal about the moment—sharing a simple meal in your apartment, after everything that had happened, after the years of space between you. 

Levi finished his plate first, as always, but instead of standing up to leave, he leaned back in his chair, watching as you took another bite, his gaze soft but unreadable.

“Thanks for dinner,” he said, his voice low but genuine. You nod in response. 

For a moment, the air felt thick with all the things you hadn’t said to each other—the unspoken words, the history that lingered between you, and the quiet understanding that neither of you had been able to let go of entirely.

“Yeah,” you replied, setting your fork down and meeting his eyes.

For a moment, the air felt thick with all the things you hadn’t said to each other—the unspoken words, the history that lingered between you, and the quiet understanding that neither of you had been able to let go of entirely.

Levi broke the silence first, his voice quieter than before. “I should go.”

He shifted on his feet, ready to leave. 

“Yeah, it’s getting late,” you agree, looking at the wall clock. It’s almost past nine. 

You followed as he walked through your apartment. You watched how he put on his shoes and brushed his clothes straight. You open the door for him, heart racing as you stare at him quietly. For a brief second, the two of you stood there in the doorway, the quiet of the apartment wrapping around you both.

Levi took a step back, his eyes still lingering on you for a moment longer. “Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice low but carrying a quiet sincerity that you hadn’t expected.

“I will,” you replied, managing a small smile. “And Levi?”

He paused, looking at you expectantly.

“Thanks again. For today. And for coming by.”

He gave a small nod, his face unreadable as always, but there was something in his eyes—something soft and unspoken. “See you around,” he said, before turning and walking back down the hallway.

You watched him go, the door slowly closing behind him. Earl returned to your side, nudging your leg before jumping back onto the couch. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the warmth of the apartment suddenly feeling a little emptier without Levi in it.

You settled back on the couch, Earl curling up beside you again, his purring filling the silence. You reached for the handkerchief in your pajama short’s pocket. The handkerchief in your hand, a small, simple thing, but somehow it felt heavier now—like it carried more than just the memory of your grandmother. 

In the quiet, you wondered if this was how it would always be between you and Levi—brief moments, small gestures, and unspoken words that never quite filled the space between you.

© levisolace. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only on my ao3 account. thank you.

me when men grovel: 😍😘💔💕💞💓💘💝

The Consequences of Fucking Up

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff

Wordcount: 15.9k

Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(

Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.

a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

Three months prior

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.

“Yes. I am.”

“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”

“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”

He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.

“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”

His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him. 

“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.” 

Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you. 

“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles. 

This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed. 

But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him. 

“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”

You slip out of his touch.

“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape. 

You love him.

You always have and perhaps always will. 

You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you. 

One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good. 

He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.

The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way. 

You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.

You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found. 

“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.

The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands. 

“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!

“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!” 

They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.

You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.

“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?” 

It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.

You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent.  You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.

It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.

You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.

A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat. 

The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.

The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.

You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.

“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”

Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.

The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.

Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to  conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.

Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.

“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.

“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”

“I see.”

“You?” 

“Buying smokes.”

He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.

“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.

“I thought you quit.”

“Some things happened which made me start again.”

“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.

He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.

You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.

Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.

“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”

You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke. 

“I’m offering”, he hisses.

“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily. 

You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore. 

You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.

“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence. 

He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.

“They’re inside”, he says.

“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”

“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”

“Are you serious?” 

He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.

“Very serious”, he rasps.

“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.

“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.

You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.

“My farce?”

This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”

You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.

“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”

“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.

Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.

“Sir?” 

He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him. 

“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.

“Who did you talk to right now?”

“Just someone important to me.”

“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”

“She’ll get home safely.”

“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”

“You’re sober?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”

The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”

Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.

He pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside. 

The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.

But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.

Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.

You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.

“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”

“Check on me?”

“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you. 

Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten. 

Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.

Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.

“Thanks”, you mumble.

“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”

You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.

You shake your head. He straightens up in worry. 

“Should I call help for you, Miss?”

You know what he indicates.

“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.” 

“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.

You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.

“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”

He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”

“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”

He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.” 

“He said that?” you whisper.

He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”

“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.” 

“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.” 

“Thank you. This is so kind.”

“You are never alone, Miss.”

“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.

He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”

“Good night.”

You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off. 

You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work. 

You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.

The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.

You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.

Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.

“Flames are hot”, he says.

“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.

“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.

“The same goes for you, Jay.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”

“The corner in twenty?”

“Yeah.”

You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.

“What do you got?” you ask him.

“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.

“What do fifty bucks buy?”

“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That’s a steal.”

“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”

“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.

“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”

Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.

“We, uhm…”

Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”

You nod your head.

“When?”

“More than two months ago.”

“Damn, that’s long.”

“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”

He cocks his brow up.

“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.

“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”

“Already?”

He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.

“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”

“Seriously?”

He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.

“See you around.”

“See…you?”

He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.

That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.

The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.

That young officer. He is in full uniform.

You open the door hesitantly.

“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.

“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.

“How are you feeling, Miss?”

“Good.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”

“What’s that?”

“I caught the package thief, Miss.”

“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?

“Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.

“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”

He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.

“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”

He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.

“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.

“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”

“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”

“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”

A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.

“Good job, Jeon. Over.”

The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.

“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.

“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”

“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?

It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.

You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.

“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”

You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.

“Leave me alone”, you tell them.

“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”

You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.

“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.

They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.

“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.

You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.

You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.

Thump.

You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.

“Let me go! Help! Help me!”

“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.

You dare to shift your eyes to them.

Yoongi.

“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly. 

Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.

He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt. 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.

You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing. 

Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.

“Should we get dinner?”

His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?

“Take me home”, you order him.

“I am.”

“No. Home. Not your place.”

“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.

“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you see what they were doing to me?”

“No.”

You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.

“Stop the car.”

Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.

“What?” he makes sure.

“Stop. The. Car. Now.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.

“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.

“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.

“Get out”, you threaten.

“I am. Fuck.”

He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.

“I’m talking now”, you roar.

Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.

“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Yoongi gulps. 

“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”

He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum. 

“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”

“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”

“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”

You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip. 

“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.

You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp. 

“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.

“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”

“No, you-”

“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”

You turn your back to him and leave. 

He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.

“Don’t go”, he says.

You don’t listen.

“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!” 

He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.

You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.

You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.

The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.

You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.

You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.

A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.

“It has always been mine as well.”

Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.

With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.

You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.

“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.

The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.

“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.

It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.

It has always been his problem as well.

Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.

V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.

You open it without checking the camera first.

“Took you long en- you?”

Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.

“I’m starting to doubt that.”

He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”

“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.

“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”

You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.

“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.

“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”

You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.

You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”

“Of course, Miss.”

The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?

You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.

“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.

“Breakfast, Miss.”

“Did your captain tell you to do that?”

“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”

You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.

“Mhm, I see.”

“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.

His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.

So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.

“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.

His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.

“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.

“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.

Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.

You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”

Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.

“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.

“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.  

“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.

“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.

One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.

“Apologies again.”

“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”

He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.

“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.

“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.

He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.

“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”

“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.

“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.

“We already have everything.”

“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sir?” “What? Why?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.

“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.

“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”

“Sit. Down.”

The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.

“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.

“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”

“I will go home.”

“Where is that home?”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”

“Shut up, Kim.”

Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.

Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.

“Where is that home, Miss?”

You lower your eyes in anger.

“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”

“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.

“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”

Bang!

You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.

“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.

“Sir? What are you doing?!”

“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.

“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”

“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.

“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.

“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.

Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.

“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.

“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”

Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.

“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.

“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.

He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.

“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.

“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.

Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments. 

He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”

“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”

He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.

“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.

“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”

“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m-”

‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”

You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave. 

You nod your head.

Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.

“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.

“What?” 

“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”

“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams

“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”

“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”

“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”

“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”

Yoongi steps closer.

“I can-”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” 

Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking. 

“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”

Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.

“Please after you, Miss.”

Yoongi says your name. 

You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.

Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come. 

“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.

You can hear them talk as you leave.

“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”

“Watch your tone.”

“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”

“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”

Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer. 

“Are you crying, Miss??”

“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain? 

“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Of course, Miss.”

And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.

But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”

“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”

“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.

“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”

“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”

“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”

“O…kay? I uhm…”

“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”

“Miss, are you okay?”

“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”

“I promise?”

“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Miss, I-”

You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.

V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”

“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”

“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.

He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.

“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”

“What?!”

“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”

“V, what the fuck?”

“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.

“Wait. Where will you go?”

“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, just…be careful.”

“You too.”

He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V. 

You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.

You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.

You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.

The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.

The first enters your vision.

“Hm?”

Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone. 

Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”

“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”

“Can we talk?”

“One.”

“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”

“Two.”

“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”

“Three.” “I’m sorry!”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.

You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.

“You’re drunk.” 

He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.

“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.

“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”

“You’ve always been important.”

“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”

“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”

“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”

“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.

“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”

“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”

“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”

You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”

You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same. 

“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”

“Please.”

“Leave my place.”

He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.

“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”

You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.

“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”

You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. 

He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser. 

“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly. 

He cradles your face, wiping your tears. 

“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”

“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt. 

“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”

He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.

“Push me away”, he tells you.

“I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt. 

He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss. 

You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle. 

You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat. 

It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.

“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk. 

“I do.”

His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.

You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.

“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it. 

You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.

“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved. 

You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.

He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.

You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.

“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.” 

He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.

“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.

He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop. 

“I hate you.”

“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.

You close your fingers slightly.

“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”

“You first.”

“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.

“Yoon-”

“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”

His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him. 

You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.

Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you. 

“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see. 

You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed. 

“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection. 

You nod your head. 

“Say it.”

“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob. 

“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better. 

You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back. 

Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.

He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.

“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.

You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.

“Ye-yes.”

“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”

The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily. 

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!” 

You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.

There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms. 

Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?

“I love you”,  he sobs, hugging you close. 

“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it. 

You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy. 

You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.

You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t. 

“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

“No, but I’m leaking.”

“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”

“You were pathetic doing that.”

He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek. 

“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”

Your heart flutters.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Booze. Way too much booze.”

You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face. 

“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.

“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”

“And you think I’d let you?”

He nods his head.

“Fuck, you’re the worst.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful. 

You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in. 

You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.

Yoongi. 

He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling. 

“You?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

He furrows his brows, “why not?”

“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”

He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.

“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”

Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin. 

Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly. 

At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug. 

He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms. 

“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”

He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you. 

“Can you promise me?”

“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you. 

The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.

“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests. 

“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”

He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other. 

“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.

“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”

“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”

“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.

You close your eyes, melting into his chest. 

“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah”, you snicker.

He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do. 

“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him. 

“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection. 

He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.

---

after hours, part one — myg [m]

⤷ summary. staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

pairing. fuckboy!basketball captain!min yoongi x fem!reader

genre. smut (18+), angst, fluff, fuckboy au, college au, unrequited love au.

» please don’t flag this post. if u don’t like it, just scroll. don’t be petty and flag creator’s posts, if u do that, ur not fücking cool 👎

warnings. fuckboy!yoongi, friends (more like aquaintences?) with benefits, major angst (it’s worse on the second part but there’s still a lot of it), fluff (weird, right?), unrequited love, yoongi is hot in this but he’s a bit of an asshole, basketball captain!yoongi, fuckboy!yoongi needs its own warning, explicit language (cursing, sexual talk, etc), reader suffers so much that i feel kinda bad, quite toxic friendships, yoongi is a teeeeease, bed !! sharing !!, yuri is a pain in the ass, everyone wants yoongi like damn, yoongi smokes cigarettes, smut, (oh boyyyyy), two s*x scenes, a LOT dirty talk, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, some dom/sub themes, dumbification, disgusting pet names (doll, baby girl, baby, y’all know the drill), äss play (f. receiving), n*pple play, humiliation, degrädation kïnk, cūnnilingus, rough sēx, yoongi lowkey has a begging k*nk, fīnger^ng, protected sęx (be smart like them), mentions of unprotected s*x and creampies, m^ssīonãry + c*wgirl pøsition, cúm swãllowing + eating, sn*wballing, semi-public sēx (they do it in the men’s locker room hehe), p*ssy eating, blowjob, face-fúcking, big d*ćk yoongi, wet n messy sêx.

word count. 25.3k 💌 (my finger slipped)

note. goddamn. i can’t believe this fic is finally out !! (part one only but still). I have literally put my blood, sweat and tears (lol) into this :’) after a lot of research on how basketball works bc i had never actually seen a basketball game and a fucking lot of drafting and re-writing, it’s here ahhhh !! this yoongi is the fucking hottest i swear and i am actually in love, even if he is a bit of an asshole :p hope u guys love this fic as much as i do and enjoy the ride <3 and a hugeeeee thank u to my love @jjkeverlast for beta’ing this fic !! love u so so much, ur the best ever 💌 part 2 will come out in about 2 weeks.

please leave feedback if u can <3 it truly motivates me to continue and i’d love to hear all ur thoughts on this fic so let’s talk about it 🫧♡

links. main masterlist ; taglist

You probably should have gone to the party that your best friend told you about.

But you were too emotionally drained from all the studying, and the last thing you needed was a social gathering you knew would only suck you out of your energy even more.

You’ve been so exhausted lately— your lectures have turned difficult, and your time has lately been consumed by either studying or your classes.

And so, you’re alone on a Friday night inside your shared apartment, watching some trashy TV romance while eating microwave popcorn and wearing your Spongebob Squarepants knee-socks.

Imagine your surprise once you hear the doorbell ring when you’re not expecting anyone tonight—your best friend is at that damn frat party, you didn’t order takeout just yet, and it’s not like you have a lot of intimate friends other than Yuri.

You reluctantly open the door, silently hoping no serial killer would be on the other side, but no, it’s even worse.

“Yoongi?” You ask, almost gasping, but you’re too tired for your body to show any signs of strong emotions when meeting the man you secretly longed to see.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you’re almost sure you pick up something of concern in his smooth voice, but you know it’s only your hallucination. You know for a fact that Yoongi doesn’t care for his hookups, or in other words, you.

You first met him during a party, and you were enamoured by his captivating brown eyes the minute they met yours.

You had heard about him before. The notorious fuckboy slash basketball captain that caught many hearts in his hands and squeezed them to death.

You promised yourself you would never acquaint yourself with him. The stories you heard, makes him out to be the worst monster of them all inside your head, with ugly green eyes that were ready to eat anyone who had a pussy.

And who ate women’s hearts until there was nothing red left.

But who knew such a monster could be so incredibly beautiful in ways you had never dreamed of?

But maybe that’s why he was such a nightmare; why he had such ease in luring prey into his deadly trap.

You got tipsy from the beers that were passed around to your hands by your best friend, and you went from making many eye contacts with a certain basketball player to him fucking you hard on the back of his car, while your best friend, Yuri explored the whole house in search for the black-haired boy you were under.

At the time, you didn’t understand how his eyes fell on you instead of on your best friend, who was much prettier than you and looked at him through the rose-coloured glasses you would only months later after that night.

However, you now get why his eyes fell on you.

You had a ‘good girl’ image and anyone that laid their eyes on you could sense a sort of naiveness that Yoongi craved.

He lived for it.

And you were just another one of his prey. A piece of meat he would then soon discard after he sucked every last bit of the blood inside your system.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t be like them. That you wouldn’t fall for his deadly charm like other girls did. You thought you were different from them, until a few months later, when you were grabbing some take-out after a heavy secret make-out session in his car.

When he flashed you his beautiful gummy smile. Your world stopped and everything came crashing down when you realised you were in love with the devil, that is Min Yoongi, and he caught your heart with his deadly hands just like other girls.

Knowing you are in love with another human is supposed to be euphoric, the poets say.

The sonnets describe how swelled up in sheer giddiness you must be from experiencing such a powerful, deep emotion for your significant other.

And you knew you were doomed because when you realised your heart only beats for Yoongi, it only made you hurt in ways that left you crying for days. So much so, that time became nonexistent and days bled into another as you grieved for the loss of your own heart that you stupidly let him take away from you.

You weren’t different from the others—you weren’t the one special enough to change Min Yoongi’s heart. To make him love you.

And you only push the dagger an inch more into your bleeding heart every time you continue to sleep with him, knowing you will never get his heart to heal you in ways you so desire.

No one knows of your affair, and you were the one who wanted to keep it that way. If anybody knew, you would be cast away in other people’s as nothing more than another one of Yoongi’s many hookups, and even worse, if your best friend found out she would have your head.

Yuri was always a jealous woman—the men she hooked up with, which was a very good amount, she got angry with the woman they would kiss a week later, and would always make their lives a living hell in the most subtle of ways.

And the ones whom Min Yoongi hooked up with were the ones that had it the worst.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” You put your mouth before your lips, yawning while talking, eyes blood-red from the exhaustion you feel.

Your sleepy eyes follow his frame up and down, and you can see he isn’t in his usual ‘asshole’ attire, as you would joke with Yuri—instead, he wears grey sweats and a simple, plain white tee shirt. You could even mistake him for a good guy if you didn’t already know the malicious intentions behind the fiery brown eyes you’ve regretfully grown to find beautiful.

But what catches your attention is the jewellery that stayed intact—two thin silver chains around his neck (he usually wears more extravagant ones), bracelets on his pulse, and his signature rings on his fingers.

If you hadn’t looked down to rapidly inspect his veiny, ring-filled fingers, you wouldn't be able to find one specific piece of jewellery that makes your lungs almost break and your breath to be taken away.

It’s the ring you gave him for his birthday a few months ago.

“What’s this?” Yoongi furrows his eyebrows as he slowly takes the small box out of the small plastic bag, and you feel your palms sweating from the anticipation and nervousness that swallows you whole.

“Um. Just something for your, uh, birthday.” You clear your throat, and Yoongi lifts his head to arch one of his eyebrows.

“My birthday was a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that, dickhead. Did you know I had to find out from Yuri, who heard from Mina, who had to hear after fucking Jungkook—“

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Yoongi chuckles, and you let out a heavy sigh as you watch him inspect the little plastic black box on his fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cross your arms, and Yoongi chuckles. He can almost hear your pout while he slowly opens the box and places the lid on his lap.

“Didn’t think you’d care.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, and you scoff silently—could he be even more dense?

“Of course, I would care, idiot. I have to give a present to the man who’s made me come so many times. It’s the least I could do.” You scoff, and Yoongi laughs loudly.

It’s a laugh you don’t usually hear from Yoongi’s pretty lips. He usually only chuckles with you, never showing the smile you so adore, and now your heart flutters and your stomach turns at the sensation that overwhelms your chest when you watch such a rare scene in front of you.

He isn’t chuckling or smirking. But laughing. At something you said.

You couldn’t think your heart could fall even deeper into the depths of your doom, yet one smile from his cherry lips already has you even deeper than before.

You’re entering a rabbit’s hole by letting yourself stupidly fall for Min Yoongi, and at this point in time, you don’t know how or even if you can get out.

You clear your throat, your heart beating fast as you watch Yoongi observe the present.

It’s a ring, one you found in a cheap jewellery store that is beside the little coffee shop you work for, and you immediately thought of Yoongi when you saw it. You know he likes his jewellery and this one was much cheaper than the ones he usually buys.

You’re nervous, your erratic heartbeat pulsating in your ear as you wait for his reaction. Will he hate it? Will he discard it as soon as he—

“Shit. I love it.” Yoongi chuckles, putting the ring on one of his only free fingers, the middle finger. “Thanks, doll. I appreciate it.”

You can’t help the warmth inside your heart at his words, relief washing down all the previous anxiety on your nerves.

“Want a birthday blowjob, too?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to answer you, but you cut him off, rubbing your sleepy eyes while trying to keep your mouth from yawning once again, “If you came here for sex, I really can’t do it tonight; I’m busy—”

“Studying?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows, and you sigh, nodding your head while groaning, “Well, you always say that, and next thing you’re begging me to make you cum.”

You cringe at his lewd words, “What the fuck, can you not say things like that? Pervert.” You roll your eyes, and Yoongi laughs, throwing the smile that never fails to make your stomach turn and your heart flutter in ways you only experience with him.

“And no, I’m not studying this time. I’m just watching some TV before going to sleep.” You grumble, and Yoongi fake gasps, dramatically opening his mouth to drag out the gasp more than it needs to, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh, is Miss goody-two-shoes actually having time for herself, hm?” Yoongi teases, a small smile tugging on his lips, and you try to fight the butterflies that flap in your stomach with a small scoff.

You shouldn’t be feeling this.

You know Yoongi only sees you as another one of his hook-ups, one he doesn’t care for, only only when you have what he needs, when he needs it.

Your brain knows that, but your heart chooses to ignore it when it hopelessly flutters for him every time he kisses you as if you were his, and sinks to your stomach every time he leaves you that same night.

You’ve made many mistakes in your life, but falling for Min Yoongi must be the worst of them all.

Your everything sings for him, for the three words out of his lips, but his heart would never hear your melodies as you wish so much. And every day that passes a piece of you is taken away, a reminder of your fatal mistake that is loving a man that only sees you as meat and is blind for your soul that calls for his.

You should have never let your heart become such an open book, filled with unspoken words of affection for him, a man who never had the desire to open you, to read you in ways you so ached for.

And you still lie here, sinking in a sea of hurt, choking on your blood every time you accept Yoongi into your heart for the sake of having him beside you, for having the pleasure of touching him. Even if the fog of lust blinds his eyes and you can only wish for him to see you as clearly as you see him.

“I’m just too tired to study.” You yawn, and Yoongi leans in, barging inside your territory and into the uncharted waters of your hopeless heart—even if he doesn’t know it.

“Y’know what would make you relax?” One of his brows goes up, and he bites his pink lips, lust fogging his eyes in the way you already know.

He’s the diesel that ignites an unwanted fire in your heart, and he’s the only hazard that can make you hot with desire in mere seconds.

You put your index finger on his chest and push him away from you, and he only chuckles, amused by your response. “Nope. Not today, Min.”

“Alright.” Yoongi pouts slightly, putting his hands in his pockets—how can this man be so hot yet cute? He’s messing with your head, and you don’t like it one bit. “Can I at least come in to watch some Netflix? Or whatever you were watching.”

“Why the hell should I let you in?” You raise one eyebrow, challenging him, and Yoongi hums.

“Good question. Well, I’m fucking bored. I have nothing to do tonight.”

“That’s bullshit.” You scoff, and Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, “There’s a party at one of your friend’s frat parties. You could easily just go there.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“The fuck? What happened to you?” You snort, and Yoongi sighs.

Yoongi was always at a party on or off campus. It was where he sought his next prey, one that looked innocent enough to fall for his charms. And, unfortunately, you were one of them.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood, doll.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I just wanna watch something to cure my boredom, and I saw you were online. But if you want me to go, I will.”

“And the first thought was to come here and annoy me?” You click your tongue, and when Yoongi playfully pouts again, your heart gives out like the weak woman you are. “Fine, okay. But no funny business, k?”

“Pinky promise.” Yoongi raises his pinky, and you scrunch your eyebrows, looking at his hand with uncertainty before you wrap your pinky around his.

“Alright, get in.”

It’s a mistake, you know it, the universe knows it—but your body can’t help but jump at any opportunity that opens where you have him for yourself. Where you’re alone with him, without the rest of the world yelling at you just how hurt you will be, just how wrong it is to have feelings Yoongi.

“Holy fuck. Are those Spongebob knee-socks?” Yoongi laughs, and heat covers your chest in embarrassment.

Oh fuck.

You forgot about those.

“They are very comfortable, okay? Shut up. You can go away if you’re just gonna annoy me like that.”

“Sorry, doll. They’re cute. Very you style.”

You pause at that, “Me style? What the hell does that mean?”

Yoongi shrugs, “They’re just very you. Dunno how to explain it.”

You give him a suspicious look before whispering a small ‘okay’, ignoring the butterflies that fly around the flowers that bloom inside your heart, and you can only hope they won’t be poison to your soul.

He follows you to the sofa after you lock your door, and once he sees what is on your TV, he can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“You’re watching the notebook?”

“Don’t you dare shame me. This movie is a fucking masterpiece.” You huff as you sit on the corner of the couch, and Yoongi chuckles, sitting on the other side, and you’re grateful for the distance between your bodies.

You wouldn’t even want to know how your night would end if he had sitten next to you.

“You got lucky. I literally just started watching it.”

The movie plays, and two hours go by like nothing as you engross yourself with the movie. You couldn’t help yourself to catch glimpses of Yoongi as you both watched the film, your eyes scanning every inch of his beautiful face, your heart screaming for his body to get closer to yours, for you to feel his warmth as if he were yours.

You were completely, utterly mesmerized by the beautiful features that adorn his face. His eyes, twin embers that completely take hold of your being, stop the breath of your lungs, and you can’t function.

You begin to wonder, entering the deadly waters that are to imagine—what would it be like if he were yours?

You yearn to speak, to unveil your heart and get rid of this burden that is carrying this love in silence.

Yet your words falter, and you can’t seem to find your voice in his presence.

How could you tell your heart beats for him when all he will do is slip through your hands when the words come out of your mouth?

You need more time with him until you have the courage to let him go.

The film finishes and you can sense your eyes and throat stinging from the last scene. Fuck, why did you choose such an emotional film?

“Doll, are you crying?” Yoongi teases with a chuckle, and you grab a pillow, throwing it on his face with all the force you have in your arms.

“Shut the f-fuck up.” You sniffle, and Yoongi continues laughing.

“Asshole.” You scoff, and Yoongi continues to giggle for a little while before you feel a sudden presence beside you. Arms wrap around your crying frame, and your head falls to a chest. His chest.

“I had no idea you were so emotional,” Yoongi chuckles, and you cry even more when you feel slow taps on your head.

The film is long forgotten inside your head, and silent tears fall to your cheeks as your heart pleads for this to be real, for this to last forever, for time to stop and for you to stay here, with him, just like this.

As if he were yours.

As if you were together.

“God,” You sniffle while rubbing your runny nose, “This is embarrassing. Ugh.”

“Nah, it’s not. It would be worse if you were an ugly crier.” Yoongi laughs lightly, and you smack his chest while letting out a small chuckle.

“I can’t believe you’re not crying.” Yoongi continues to pat your head, and you can’t help but feel this is oddly domestic. It feels natural, so right that your heart can’t help but ease into the fog of hope that everything will be okay.

It’s dangerous, to forget about the pain in your heart, and maybe you will pay the price later.

“I don’t cry, doll.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, you’re the cold fuckboy without feelings and all that.”

Yoongi snorts, “Yeah.”

“Y’know, crying doesn’t make you weak. Just saying. It can actually make you much more relieved. It’s therapeutic.”

Yoongi hums, “I just haven’t felt like crying in a long time.”

You should let go already.

Staying like this, under his arms when you’re so vulnerable is dangerous. But no sense of danger would ever compare to the feeling of letting yourself go, of falling without the fear of reaching the ground.

“What’s your favourite fruit?”

You furrow your eyebrows and almost laugh at the question, “What?”

“I asked what your favourite fruit is.”

“Uh, I heard it. Why? That’s so random, dude.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, “I’m not good at dealing with people crying. I’m trying my best here, damn.”

You chuckle, “Aw, that’s cute of you.”

“Shut up and answer the damn question.”

“Jeez okay,” you snort at his defensiveness—maybe you should call him cute more often. “Hm, I’d say apples.”

“Ew.” Yoongi scrunches his face, “Tangerines are so much better.”

“I’m guessing that’s your favourite fruit?” Your lips tug into a small smile while you feel your small tears dry up.

“Fuck yeah, they’re the best thing in this world.”

“They taste disgusting.” You make a small gag sound, and Yoongi scoffs at your words. “Makes sense why you like them.”

“Are you calling me disgusting?” Yoongi stops patting your head, and you can’t help the smirk on your lips.

Teasing and getting on Yoongi’s nerves is your favourite pastime—he falls right into your trap, and you absolutely love it. Who would have thought a man with a reputation such as his could be so easy to lure onto your trap?

“Mmm, maybe.”

You finally have the courage to take your head off his chest, and when your eyes catch him, you feel the world stop. Time is nothing and the universe is only inside his eyes.

“Mm, I’m not so disgusting when you let me fuck you, now am I, doll?” Yoongi chuckles, and you bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his.

“You have a good dick, what can I say?” You shrug, trying hard to contain your smile when his tongue presses on his cheek.

“Fuck, doll. Can I kiss you?” Yoongi whispers, placing his hand on your cheeks.

Your heartbeat picks up its pace.

“You pinky promised no funny business, Yoongi.” You whisper back, eyes falling to his luscious mouth.

“But this isn’t anything funny,” Yoongi smirks lazily and you scoff.

“Fuck you.” Your hand grabs his black t-shirt, and his addicting lips are on yours in mere seconds.

Fuck you for making me feel this way. Fuck you for distracting me. Fuck you for letting me fall in love with you.

The kiss is hard, lust-filled and so passionate, you could even mistake it for two lovers who haven’t seen each other in so many years.

You’re so caught up in your lust-drunken haze, you don’t know how you’re straddling his lap, with lips devouring the skin of your neck, claiming what Yoongi doesn’t know is already, completely, secretly his.

“Fuck, you have no idea—“ Yoongi groans, and feel his veiny hands travelling down past your shorts, and all you can think of is the heavenly feeling of his fingers tracing your skin as he kisses you with all the fire in the world. “How much I missed all of this.”

Shivers run through your spine, and you throw your head back when you feel his index finger slowly rubbing your sensitive nub.

“What’s your safe word, hm?” Yoongi asks between wet kisses on your collarbone, and you mutter a small ‘purple’, a small smirk on his lips as he kisses all the way back to your neglected mouth.

“Good girl,” He whispers to your ear, and you let out a little yelp when he lightly slaps your clit, “Let’s go to your bedroom, hm?”

“I’m way too lazy for that.” You whisper through wet kisses, and Yoongi chuckles, one of his ring-filled hands finding your butt and squeezing it.

You gasp slightly, and Yoongi bites his tongue, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips, “Love this fuckin’ ass. Did you miss me, baby?”

“Nah, not really. Had my showerhead to keep me company.” You tease, and Yoongi bites his lip before kissing you so fiercely, your breath suddenly goes away.

“You’re such a bad liar, doll,” Yoongi whispers on your lips, and your heart surrenders once more.

You told yourself you wouldn’t fall for his charm again, that you would fight the desire that took hold of your body whenever you saw him.

And now, all you need is to be taken care of by the hands you so long for. Have yourself forget the pain that sinks your heart to the depths of the seas of unrequited love, even if just for one night.

One last night, you tell yourself.

Those words are almost a ritual in your mind now whenever you and Yoongi sleep together, always promising that it will be the last night you end up fucking, that you will move on and grab the heart from his hands that is rightfully yours.

Yoongi suddenly gets up and you immediately wrap your legs around his small waist.

You’re thrown on your mattress once you’re inside your small bedroom, and before you could even groan from the contact with your back, Yoongi’s red lips catch yours in a rough, demanding kiss.

You’re about to take off your knee socks, but Yoongi gently grabs your arm, restricting any more movement.

“Keep ‘em.”

“You sure?”

“I told you. They’re cute.” Yoongi smirks at your flushed reaction, and you clear your throat before whispering a small ‘okay’ and shifting to your previous position.

His hand is under your shorts once more, and you gasp once you feel two fingers taking a stripe of your slit, “Pussy is so fucking wet already, and you still had the audacity to say you didn’t miss me.”

“I did—didn’t.”

“Fucking liar.” Yoongi brings his hand to his red lips, sucking on them at a slow pace while never taking his brown eyes off yours. You can’t take the throb on your clit, so you rub your thighs together, but Yoongi pulls them apart once again.

“Lemme see this pussy.” He spreads your legs, and you gasp at how far apart they are, at how your pussy is on display just for him.

Yoongi licks his lip, as if a predator staring at his meal after starving for so long, “Wanna eat you out. Can I?”

“Fuck yes.” You moan, biting your lip, and Yoongi places a small slap on your clit.

You gasp, and Yoongi smiles smugly.

“Where’s the magic word, doll?”

You almost roll your eyes, but you are too fucking horny to take any more punishment and teasing from him.

“Please. Please eat me out, Yoongi.”

Yoongi lowers his head to your sex slowly, “Now that’s my good girl.”

Fuck. You could have folded right there.

“Can I take your shirt off first? Wanna see those tits,” Yoongi’s hand gropes at one of your breasts, and once you nod your head, he wastes no time in taking your top off and throwing it to the other side of your room.

Yoongi is quick to take one of your tits into his eager mouth, sucking harshly and letting his tongue flicker on your nipple. His other hand grabs your other breast, beginning to harshly knead it and squeeze it under his palm.

All you can do is whimper under his desperate touches, your body squirming in the sheer pleasure of having his touch on your sensitive nipples.

Yoongi takes his mouth out of your breast with a lewd pop, his hungry eyes looking deeply into yours as he whispers, “Always so sensitive for me.”

You bite your lips as he trails kisses down your skin, his tongue feeling up your skin, until he finally stops when he richest the end of your stomach. You inhale sharply, and Yoongi smirks before parting your legs as far as you can and taking a big stripe of your wet pussy.

You immediately shudder, a small moan slipping your slips, “Yoongi.”

Yoongi whispers a small “My good girl,” and you feel your stomach turning from the overwhelming butterflies that rapidly flutter their wings inside it.

Yoongi suddenly spits on your cunt, his saliva dripping on your pussy lips and onto your thighs. His tongue kitten licks all of your wetness, leaving you aching for more.

You know he’s only doing this to tease you, to break you, and if you weren’t so desperate for him, maybe you would have resisted longer.

“Stop f-fucking teasing.” You growl and grab a large piece of his black hair with your palm. Yoongi groans at the sharp pain, and you yelp once you feel a slap to your thighs.

“Patience, doll. You take what I give you, yeah?”

You clench your teeth and squint your eyes, only for you to break your character and moan once you feel his mouth suddenly sucking your throbbing clit.

“Oh—oh fuck.” You let out heavy breaths, your hand caressing Yoongi’s hair as your mind gets lost in the pleasure of Yoongi’s skilful tongue.

One thing you’ve learned about Yoongi is that he loves going down on you, no matter time or place. If you say you want him to eat you out, he’s doing it that fucking second and he won’t stop until you’re squirming helplessly under him.

Your whole pussy has never been exposed, and Yoongi thrusts his tongue into your hole while his fingers start to slowly run your swollen clit.

You can feel your orgasm coming, the stars are close and you’re ready to let go, but Yoongi suddenly pulls his tongue out, leaving you whimpering for his touch again.

“What—“

“Ass up, doll.” Yoongi is taken aback when you follow his instructions with no snarky remark, and you’re on all fours with your ass up like he asked.

His hands trace the curve of your ass, his pianist fingers kneading your skin as he watches you with fascination in his brown, eager eyes that are blinded by the almost suffocating lust for you.

“P-please—“

“Spread that pretty ass for me.” He orders with a sharp spank to your ass, which causes you to shut your eyes and bite your lip in pleasure.

You do what he asks and spread your legs, permitting him to see both your asshole and cunt clearly, and Yoongi bites his lips when he sees the wetness that stains your inner thighs. Yoongi takes off his sneakers and slowly gets in the bed, and you whine at the loss of his touch for such a long time.

You need him to fuel you with more of his addicting diesel.

“What’s got you so quiet, baby girl? Already too dumb to talk back, hm?” Yoongi chuckles, trailing your spine with his ring-filled fingers while calling you out for the lack of your usual brattiness and snarky remarks.

You groan in return as shivers course through your body. “F-Fuck you.”

“Ah, there she is,” Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle, and you sigh on your pillow at his touch.

“C-Can you not be so rough today? I’m—I’m tired and I wanna get up tomorrow morning.”

If only he knew what kind of tired you really are.

Tired of having your heart stomped on every time you watch his indifferent eyes when he looks at you, tired of having a storm of emotions to a man who feels nothing but carnal desires for you.

Tired of painfully waiting for him to reach an endless deep sea of love instead of the shallow waters of lust whenever he looks at you.

Yoongi hums, trailing his wandering hand back to your butt and he places a small slap on one of your ass cheeks.

“You just wanna be my good girl tonight, then?” Yoongi almost coos at how cute you look when you slowly nod. “You mind if I play with your other hole a little, doll?”

You gasp at his question. No one you’ve ever slept with—which was not many people, anyway—had ever touched that part of your body, nor even came close to it. You never had the desire for it.

But being with Yoongi has made you discover and try many territories you never thought were possible, and how could you say no to him when he asks like that?

“Fuck. Okay. But go slow, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Yoongi places a small, almost tender kiss on your spine before whispering, “Will do, baby.”

You could get used to these kinds of kisses.

His thumb goes up from your core ever so slowly, tracing the pathway to your asshole with care, and you mewl, digging your head into your pillow when his thumb starts playing with your rim, shivers coursing through every bit of your most sensitive nerves.

“You’re such a slut, aren’t you, doll? Letting me play with your pretty asshole. My little whore.” You mewl at his degrading words.

Never did you think you would enjoy hearing such words from anyone, but he makes it sound so hot when it comes out of his sweet lips.

“Where’s the lube, doll?” Yoongi whispers in your ear, and you let out a trembled sigh.

“It’s in the bathroom.”

Yoongi snorts, “Why’s the lube on the bathroom?”

You chuckle, “My roommate got fucked in the ass there. I had to hear all the details about it.” You roll your eyes at the memory. You couldn’t sleep that day because of your roommate’s screams inside the bathroom beside you.

Yoongi chuckles before slightly slapping your ass, “Be right back.”

Within seconds he’s back to his place from before rubbing the lube on two of his fingers.

“Fuck, you don’t know how obseesed I am with this ass, doll.” You almost scream when he slowly pushes two of his lubed up fingers inside your asshole with no warning, and Yoongi bites his lip to not let out a small moan as he sees you helplessly squirm underneath him. “Everything okay?”

You answer with a nod, and Yoongi hums, continuing the slow assault of his fingers inside your hole. You gasp at the calculated circles around your rim, and you moan into your pillow, “Yoongi.”

Yoongi smirks at his name as a form of a moan in your mouth, “Yes?”

“N-need….” You whimper your words out, your pussy burning with the almost unbearable need of his veiny fingers inside your cunt. For the release he neglected you moments before, “Need your fingers.”

Yoongi chuckles, placing a wet slap on your ass which causes you to gasp and lean your body forward at the sudden contact. You can feel your pussy dripping for him, the wetness staining your thighs.

All pent-up need for him.

“Hm, where do you want ‘em, doll? Gotta be specific.” Yoongi bites his lip, his fingers slowly thrusting on your asshole, and your hand is quick to travel to your lower region.

You spread your pussy lips apart, and Yoongi watches your motions like a hawk, his cock throbbing at the beautiful image of your fingers on your cunt.

His imagination runs wild once he starts thinking how pretty you would look while touching yourself and thinking of nothing else but him. Coming while whispering his name.

Yoongi bites his lip.

“Want ‘em here.”

Yoongi chuckles, his fingers leaving your asshole, “Do it for me, baby. Show me how you touch yourself.”

“What—”

“Come on, aren’t you a big girl? Let me see you touch yourself.” Yoongi slowly creeps his hand up to one of your ass cheeks, and you shiver under his touch.

Min Yoongi is a hazard to your existence, so much so that you’re already crumbling apart by his mere touch to your skin, and you know you won’t last long tonight, not like any other one of your encounters.

Tonight is different, and you’re terrified that your masked out vulnerability might fade away once and for all.

“Yoongi—”

The name of his lips is cut short when you feel his free hand grab your hair harshly, a gasp leaving your mouth at the pain mixed with pleasure that makes your clit pulsate.

“Do it.” Yoongi’s teeth grit, using the deep, raspy voice he knows leaves you weak on the knees, and shivers run from your scalp down every nerve in your body.

You will always be weak in Min Yoongi’s presence, won’t you?

Your hand slowly traces the skin of your stomach, trying to tease the man behind you as much as you can, and you can feel the deadly smirk on his pretty red lips, his cock twitching under his grey sweats.

Your fingers go to your clit, massaging the nub carefully enough to make you gasp on the fabric of your pillow.

You think of the man behind you, of his veiny, ring-filled fingers inside you, of his cock deliciously thrusting inside your pussy, reaching your cervix in the way he knows makes you fall apart.

Just for him.

You mewl, unsatisfied with your own fingers tracing your slit, but no imagination could ever compare to the real thing you want.

You need Yoongi.

His fingers inside you, him touching you in any way possible.

The fight inside you is gone as you fully submit to him, as you ache for him and his touch.

Yoongi can see your dissatisfaction as you continue to rub your clit fast, whines of desperation fleeing your mouth as you try to please yourself but can’t.

“Yoongi,” You whimper, and Yoongi almost closes his eyes from the sheer pleasure that travels down his body. “Your f-fingers. Need your, ah, fingers.”

“Too dumb to do it yourself, hm?” You nod while whining, your mind trapped in too much of a haze to talk back, to prove you aren’t another one of his dumb, fucked-out hookups who’d do anything he asks for.

You are too drunk in the pleasure of having him for yourself.

Too vulnerable to slip out of your daze as easily as you usually do, and you know Yoongi is claiming his victory with a wide smirk as he watches you fall apart before him.

Watches how broken you finally are for him.

“Yoongi.” His name is the only thing that can leave your mouth instead of moans and helpless whimpers.

You are dumb for him, aren’t you?

“You’re a dumb little cockslut, can’t even touch yourself properly,” Yoongi’s laugh is mocking, and you gasp loudly once two of his fingers start rubbing your nub in his expert way, the one which makes your whole body shiver in pure ecstasy. “You wanted this, doll? You wanted my fingers fucking that slutty cunt open?”

“Fuck, yes! Yes, Y-Yoongi.” You helplessly moan as his fingers scissor your pussy lips open for him to enter them inside you.

“Shit, babe, you’re soaking for me. I can fucking hear it.” Yoongi groans, precum staining his sweatpants as his cock twitches at the gushy, lewd sounds of your wet pussy.

His hand sparing no mercy for your cunt as he fingers you hard and fast. Your body shudders in pleasure, your mouth lets out pornographic moans when his thumb rubs your clit, and you clench around his slender, veiny fingers—your orgasm is coming.

And Yoongi knows.

“Does baby girl want to cum?” Yoongi bites his lip and continues his assault on your cunt, thrusting fast in and out of you, the cold metal of his rings hitting your warm walls, and all you can do is nod as you arch your back for him, drunk on his touch, his fingers, and everything that is him.

You’re too fucked out to answer, your toes already curling and your mouth fully open as you ache for the words of confirmation from his lips, which he happily grants.

“Cum for me, doll. You can do it.” Yoongi grunts out, and your mouth creeps up in a fucked out smile your abdomen clenches as your orgasm finally hits you, and you soak Yoongi’s already wet fingers with your cum.

Your mind escapes into a haze as your body unconsciously trembles from the oversensitivity as Yoongi slips his fingers to pinch your clit, testing to see how far you can take it.

“S-Sensitive.” You moan on the pillow, and once Yoongi takes his hand from your pussy, relief washes through your body.

Yet, you still long for them again.

“On your back for me.”

For some miracle, you hear his words under the fog in your mind, and your weak, already fucked out body slowly turns around, but Yoongi is an impatient man and doesn’t waste time by grabbing your waist and flipping you around himself.

Your tired eyes watch as he sucks the wetness on his fingers, moaning while tasting your release and you clench your thighs at the beautifully erotic scene before you.

Yoongi’s lips are suddenly on your jaw, kissing you gently, and you don’t even notice it until his deep voice speaks up during his kisses, “What’s up with you today, ___? You don’t usually end up this fucked out from just my fingers.”

“Told you,” You whine, gasping for any air your restricted lungs can catch, “I’m tired.”

Yoongi silently wonders what got you this tired.

You were always driving yourself crazy for your studies, and he could never understand why you would do it, but you would never get this exhausted. To the point where you completely fell apart for him after only his fingers. It usually took you some time until he could finally break you into his little cockslut.

“Still want to continue?” His tongue tenderly licks your skin as his hand rubs your tummy, a habit he picked up a few weeks ago, doing it after every time you were getting over your high.

And every single time he did it, your chest would find it hard to breathe from the fluttering feeling that crept up on your stomach that eventually found its way into your heart.

“I could just jerk off and call it a night. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” You let out a deep exhale of your breath, and Yoongi nods, placing the faintest butterfly kisses on your neck.

“Whatever you want.”

Your lips curve up in a lop-sided smile, “Fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Oh fuck.”

Yoongi is quick to pull his body off of yours, quickly taking off his sweats, his rock-hard cock springing out of the fabric, hitting his stomach and shirt in the process, and shit, you could have orgasmed again at that mere scene.

The chains on his neck stay, sticking to his slightly sweaty skin, and you feel your pussy throb and almost burn with aches at the sight.

Yoongi throws the grey sweatpants to the floor beside you, and you both flinch at the loud sound that erupts once it hits the floor.

“Oh shit, I forgot my phone was in there.”

“How can you forget that?” You can’t help but let out a snort, and Yoongi lightly laughs with you, your heart missing palpitations, stuttering at the sight of his gummy smile and relaxed shoulders.

Yoongi shrugs, “Too horny to care.”

You both laugh slightly and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if things could stay like this.

No outside world, only two people enjoying their time together, and the absence of the pain that shreds your soul of loving a man who will never love you back.

The laughter dies out, and instead, you find yourself at the loss of words as you mindlessly stare at Yoongi’s pretty cock. It stands proud before you, the tip stained with pre-cum, and pulsating from the pain of his erection, desperate for any stimulation that might lead to his release.

Yoongi’s big and he knows it.

He’s big, longer than the average dick, and he was cocky about it. When you first hooked up, you had to make him stop so you could adjust to the amazing yet slightly painful stretch his long, girthy cock gave you.

“You love my fat cock, don’t you, doll?” Yoongi says through a smirk, pride swelling on his chest as he watches you drool for him, your eyes wide, filled with fascination.

“Mhm,” You nod rapidly, your curious eyes watching his hands wrap around the slit, fingers brushing the vein that pops out of the skin, teasing himself for your hungry eyes.

“Where are the condoms?” Yoongi grunts, more pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock and falling onto your sheets.

“Second drawer.” You point to your only bedside table, and Yoongi is quick to manoeuvre his body to open the drawer and get a condom from the small package.

Yoongi examines the condom and smirks, “You got a large one. Were you expecting this, doll?”

You immediately gulp, turning your head to the side to avoid his piercing gaze, “No.” You click your tongue, “Bought them, like, last week ‘cause my roommate used up everything.”

“Ah, I see.” Yoongi bites his lips. He can see through your lies. He can clearly see the small twitch on your lips twitch whenever you try to lie to him.

Yoongi opens the packet with his teeth, his eyes never leaving yours, and your clit throbs at his action.

He twists the tip and slowly puts the condom on while biting his lips, and you can swear that you’ve never seen something so fucking hot. Every movement has you entranced, and your heart flickers at the picturesque image of him above you.

The moon gracefully shines on his beautiful figure, his face shimmering under the soft light, like an angel that graces you, a mere mortal, with his ethereal presence.

Yoongi finally leans in and presses a slow, sensual kiss on your neck, “You ready?”

You almost moan out loud at his words, “Fuck yes. Please.”

Without any more words, Yoongi pushes inside you, and you moan at the delicious stretch his big cock gives you.

Yoongi grunts, squeezing the pillow beside you, “Shit, always so fuckin’ tight. I-I don’t wanna be rough, doll, but fuck—“

You grab his hair and place a quick wet kiss on his pouty lips, “Be rough. ‘S okay.”

“You sure? You told me not to be rough. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart glitters, and you have to clear your throat to not let out a whimper at the warm, fuzzy feeling inside your stomach, “That was before you made me horny as fuck. Now fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Whatever you say,” Yoongi whispers on your lips before thrusting harshly inside you. You gasp loudly, your hand unconsciously grabbing his black hair, causing Yoongi to groan and his dick to twitch inside you from the pain.

Yoongi pulls back before thrusting his cock inside you again.

You arch your back and moan loudly; he spares no mercy to your pussy and starts thrusting with a fast, almost animalistic pace that leaves you moaning like the desperate whore you are.

“So stupid for my cock.” Yoongi laughs with a lazy smirk, and you mewl at his words, nodding as his chains dangle in front of your opened mouth. “You act all high and mighty, but you’re just another slut for me, huh? Just another dumb whore for me.”

You shake your head, trying your best to form any words to contradict his claims, but your throat only forms moans as he pounds his cock into you while holding your legs close to your stomach.

“Mmm,” You squeal when his finger runs your clit as he deliciously thrusts into you, and you swear you’ve never felt so fucking good. So full.

So his.

You're drunk in the sounds of his groans in your ear, mixed with the wet, lewd sounds of your skins slapping on each other.

You suddenly feel a hand harshly grabbing your chin, and you finally open your eyes, your lungs freeze at the sight of his hungry, dilated eyes as he traces your lips, admiring the slight drool that slips your mouth.

Yoongi wastes no time and brings you to a messy kiss, your tongues lazily touching each other, neither of you caring for the saliva on your chins.

“Want you to ride me doll.” Yoongi whispers in your mouth, and you gasp slightly, “Can you do that for me?”

“Okay,” You rapidly nod your head, and you whine when he suddenly slips out of you and rolls your bodies on the mattress so you’re on top.

“Shit, love this view.” Yoongi licks his lips, his eyes never leaving your breasts while all you can do is stare intensely at his lust-filled eyes.

You couldn’t help but gaze into his ethereal form, bathed under the moonlight’s shine.

He looks oh so beautiful, and all you could imagine is how it would feel to have his sparkling eyes looking directly at you.

Shining for you.

Only for you.

But before you can dwell more on his beauty, you feel hands delicately tracing lines of your waist, “You good, doll?”

You giggle silently, your heart beating faster with each passing moment, “Yeah ‘m fine. Can I ride you now?”

“Was just waiting for you, baby.” Yoongi chuckles at your eagerness and gasps when you suddenly grab his length, rubbing the tip against your folds, all while holding a lazy smirk on your face.

You slowly sink into his cock, moaning at the amazing stretch it gives you, and Yoongi hisses at how tight you feel at this angle.

“So big.” You bite your lips, slowly grinding your hips forward, your body shivering at how full you feel. You’re so sensitive, you almost moan loudly when Yoongi’s ring-filled hand touches your ass, squeezing it harshly under his palm.

“Go on, ride that dick, baby.” Yoongi rasps, slapping your ass before you start jumping up and down on his cock, the littlest ‘ah’s’ leaving your mouth as you chase your high.

Yoongi groans loudly, his eyes hypnotized by the way you ride his length, looking so fucking slutty with only your knee socks being the only thing that covers a part of your smooth skin.

The gushy sounds of your wet thighs slapping onto his skin send his brain into overdrive as he watches you bounce, your slick shining on the condom under the moonlight anytime you go up, only to go down again faster than before.

Lust consumes him as he watches your beautiful breasts bounce as you ride him with all your strength, and Yoongi’s dick twitches at the melodic sounds of your high-pitched moans.

“You’re my whore, aren’t you?” Yoongi thrusts his hips up, causing you to gasp and grip his stomach so your limp body stays in balance.

Yoongi harshly grabs your hair, his knuckles going white and forcing your face to tilt up to meet your eyes with his devilish ones.

“Fuckin’ say it.”

With the way he looks at you, he’s ready to incinerate your whole being, and you’re afraid you are already destroyed when the words slip out of your mouth, “‘M yo-your whore, Yoon–Yoongi! Only yours.”

Yoongi smirks as you scream, continuing the animalistic thrust of his hips, faster than ever before.

You swear you can’t breathe with all the pleasure that overwhelms every nerve, every sense of your body.

“You can only think about my cock, hm?” Yoongi sloppily licks his lips, his abdomen contracting every time your thrusts meet, “No one wants such a slut, huh? That’s why you only come to me, yeah?”

“N-No, I—” You moan, your eyes rolling to your skull as his cock finds your g-spot, and Yoongi grins. He knows he found it, you only go non-verbal once he reaches that special spot of yours.

“That’s my fucking slut.” Yoongi chuckles, his hips sloppily thrusting upwards while your hand goes down to rapidly rub your clit, “I’m gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna only think of my fat cock and you wo-won’t even dare to fuck other men. Gonna ruin you, baby girl.”

“Yoon—ah,” You scream out, your mouth open as you feel your body close to falling into pure bliss, “C-cum—please, I need to—“

“Come all over this cock baby.” Yoongi moans out, and you stop your movements, your body shivering at the euphoria that is released through your body.

Your body turns limp, and you weakly fall forward, your scrunched face now close to Yoongi’s. You immediately whimper as you feel Yoongi continuing his thrusts into you, sparing no mercy to your abused and sensitive pussy as he chases his own high.

“Yoongi, s-sensitive—“

“Take it.” Yoongi harshly slaps your ass, and you mewl loudly at the sharp pain. Yoongi grabs your chin, forcing your pupils to catch his starving eyes, and you could swear you see a glimpse of the devil himself inside his captivating irises.

Your lungs stop as you realise.

You’re finally his, body and soul.

And a small tear escapes your left eye.

“Wa-wanna f-fuck you raw someday, d-doll,” Yoongi’s face scrunches as he groans the words out, “Wanna fill this pussy with my cum. Gonna make you walk around campus dripping with my-my cum so everyone knows how much o-of a slut the good girl is.”

You gasp loudly.

Did he mean it?

No—he couldn’t. That was just the lust talking, and Yoongi did tend to like dirty talking during sex.

That’s all it is. Right?

Your mind chooses to forget, and you’re cut off from your daze once you hear pretty moans slipping his lips as he rapidly fucks himself into you. “Ah, fuck, fuck—I’m g-gonna come so h-hard for you. W-where—”

“My mouth. Do it in my mouth.” You take his dick out of your pussy, and quickly take off the condom, throwing it somewhere across the room, before connecting your mouth to his leaking length.

“Fuck, d-doll, ‘m comi–ah!” A few bobs of your head, and he comes inside your mouth with a loud, pornographic groan.

You feel your pussy throb as you watch with hooded eyes, his head thrown back and his cherry-red lips parted as he entered a state of bliss. And fuck, what a sight for sore eyes he is.

“Show me your tongue,” Yoongi demands through his deep pants, and you do as requested, opening your mouth and showing your tongue full of his sticky cum.

You’re caught off-guard when Yoongi grabs your hair, pressing his lips onto yours in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. You moan as your tongues exchange his come with each other, bits of his white release mix with your saliva and run down your chin.

Yoongi slowly removes his lips from yours, a trail of spit connecting both your lips and then breaking, dropping onto your naked chest.

“Swallow,” Yoongi instructs with a rasp in his voice, and shivers run through your spine as you do as he says.

You swallow all the cum that still rests in your mouth with no hesitation, and Yoongi groans at the sight, trying his hardest not to bust another nut right then and there. You scrunch your face at the salty taste on your throat and sit in the space beside him, the mattress jumping at your action.

“Shit, that was good.”

You suddenly feel his lips placing the softest peck on your lips, and tingles run through your body once you feel his hands gently rubbing your tummy.

“Water.” You slowly let out, your throat burning.

Yoongi is quick to get out of bed and comes back in an instant with cold water in his hands.

“Here you go, doll.” Yoongi helps you to sit up to place the glass on your lips, and you slowly gulp the cold water, almost sighing out loud at the relief you feel.

“Shit, I was too rough, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi sighs, his veiny hand rubbing his stomach as he stares at your white ceiling while all you can do is stare at him.

You are caught up in a beautiful image, your eyes mesmerised by how picturesque he is as if crafted by the delicate hands of the goddess of beauty herself.

You quickly shake your head, your heart skipping beats at his concern “‘S okay, I asked for it.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Yoongi asks, his eyes catch yours, and you shift your face to the sheets beneath you, your chest heating up from having been caught lovingly looking at Yoongi as if he were your…..boyfriend.

“Yeah. That was, uh, intense. To say the least.” You chuckle, and Yoongi snorts, returning his hand to your stomach to continue the soft rubs.

“Never did that snowballing shit with anyone. Did you think I went too far with that?”

Your eyebrows shift upwards, and your heart quickens its already rapid pace at his words—did Min Yoongi do a first with you? You were Min Yoongi’s first for something?

Your heart couldn’t help but jump.

Min Yoongi already had many of his firsts when it came to sex. The man was an expert, to say the least.

Having fucked so many girls, you thought he tried anything and everything with so many different people.

But no, he had a first with you.

“No, no. I liked it. It was very hot.” You smile lazily, and Yoongi sighs in relief, his eyes closing for a mere second.

“Okay, that’s good.” You place your water on your bedside table, and Yoongi lies beside you.

You stare at him again. He looks peaceful with his eyes closed.

It’s a tender scene. One you don’t get to have much whenever you are with him.

His breathing and body stay relaxed as he lets himself go for a mere second, and you could only wish the stars that spread through the night skies that you could live this moment again and again.

Until you have nothing left to dream about.

You’re scared of this feeling, of wanting to spend all your happy days with someone, of falling for the sweet nothings he never promised.

You can’t control him, you can’t force him to love you back, and that’s maybe what you fear most.

Because Min Yoongi is unpredictable. He’s wild. He’s a hazard to himself and your sanity.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Yoongi snorts, and you furrow your eyebrows as you’re cut off from your daze once his deep voice speaks up.

“Like what?” You laugh.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. You’re fucking weird.” Yoongi lets out a chuckle, and you sigh in relief. The last thing you wanted was for him to find out about the gleam on your pupils, the way your eyes form hearts whenever you look at his beautiful face.

“Well, you fuck this weirdo.” You click your tongue and chuckle lightly.

And Yoongi smiles, “Yeah, I do.”

Maybe these moments were the ones where all your walls crumbled down into ashes, fading into the sky and leaving your heart vulnerable to the stabs of love.

The moments where you both stand like this—raw, naked, not caring for anything else in the world, how it makes you feel light. As if you could conquer the world.

Your hopes and dreams are no concern. Your failures and regret are thrown away by the calm sounds of his breathing that sweep away anything and everything that lets you down.

It’s these rare moments, the ones that are only glimpses in your painful field of vision of the world, are what the sonnets mean when you let yourself fall for another.

And in an ideal world, written in the book of your mind, these moments would last every minute, every day, every year, for the rest of your ideal life.

But in the real world, outside the proses of love, of the idealizations of the feeling everyone, so wishes for, what the dreamers never dare to think—is that these moments never last for more than a second before you’re back to bleeding in pain from loving the only one who destroys you in every way, and every day.

But maybe that’s just you. Maybe that’s what you get for choosing to love a disturbance, an instability on your otherwise still life.

Maybe that’s what love is.

Maybe that’s just what loving Yoongi is.

“I should go pee.” You whisper, secretly hoping this won’t end, that his touch will linger on your skin forevermore.

“Yeah, go do that.” Yoongi hums, tapping your thigh lightly, “Can I have a smoke by your window?”

“Sure. Just try not to make the room stink or you’ll take care of it.”

Yoongi chuckles while slowly getting up from the bed, “Will do, doll.”

You slowly walk to your bathroom, trying your hardest not to trip because of your wobbly, sore legs. You shouldn’t have let him be so rough with you, but you know that your horny mind couldn’t resist him or his fucking dick.

You’ll have to spend your Saturday trying your hardest to make the bruises fade away because you know that if Yuri sees you, questions will come, and you don’t think you’ll be able to lie so easily.

Who are you kidding? You won’t be able to lie at all, and you still don’t know how you and Yoongi haven’t been found out by her yet.

You look deep into your own eyes, and bile burns your throat. Is this really who you are? Fucking the man who has your friend’s heart?

Loving a man who will never be yours to claim?

You can’t look at yourself anymore, and so, you quickly turn off the sink and return to your room.

You grab your PJs from the floor, and while you put your clothes back on, you can’t help but stare at Yoongi, who stands by your window with a lit cigarette in between his fingers.

You slowly walk towards him, your heart beating miles per hour as you watch his face taking in the shine of the moon, revealing each detail of his striking features, and your soul glimmers at the mesmerising sight.

It feels serene.

Your heart is calm as you watch him, and your soul is at ease; there is no bleeding, no begging for him to see you.

“Stop staring and come here doll.” Yoongi takes a puff of his cigarette and slowly lets the smoke out into the air.

You slowly walk towards him, and you look down, realising he must have put his sweats back on while you were in the bathroom.

“Hm, this reminds me of cigarettes after sex.” You whisper, your eyes finding the full moon in the night sky while your lungs find it hard to breathe once you feel his lingering gaze on your body.

“You like their music?”

You sigh, “Yeah. Kinda. I don’t listen to them all the time, though.”

“Mmm, I like their song ‘Sweet’.”

You shift your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows, while Yoongi takes another puff from the cigarette, “You listen to them?”

Exhaling the smoke, Yoongi says, “Yeah, I listen to some of their songs. Shit’s good. Kinda catchy.”

Your lips part, “Wow.”

“Is it that shocking?”

You giggle, turning your head to watch the moon again, “Kinda, yeah. Sweet is a good song, though. You have good taste.”

“No shit.” Yoongi laughs and you smile slightly.

Being here, with Yoongi by your side during the whispers of the night, you’re okay.

You’re not plagued by the thoughts that he isn’t yours, you can’t feel the venom running in your veins, instead, gold shimmers inside your heart from the love, the sheer calm in your soul you feel when you are alone with him.

“Hold on, I gotta get my phone.” You quickly whisper before running to your bedside table, grabbing your phone and running back to the same spot you were standing on.

You turn on your camera and zoom in to get the best view of the shimmering moon while Yoongi watches your every action with amused and intrigued eyes.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi laughs, bringing the cigarette to his red lips as he watches you take hundreds of pictures of the moon.

“Taking pictures of the moon, duh.” You roll your eyes and Yoongi snorts, exhaling the smoke inside his mouth.

“You can’t even see it clearly with your shitty camera.”

“But it’s still pretty, isn’t it? Sometimes, pretty things can’t be seen so clearly, Yoongi. But that doesn’t mean it still isn’t beautiful.” You click your tongue, “I also like to take pictures of the moon so I can record the moment and relive it. Sometimes memories aren’t enough, y’know?”

Yoongi smirks, “So you wanna remember me, doll?”

You give him a side eye before continuing to take your pictures, “Nah, not really. It’s just that the moon is really pretty today.” You can only hope he doesn’t see how flushed you are, and that he can’t hear the heart that rapidly beats inside your chest.

Truth is, you don’t want to let this moment go.

You want to use the moon as evidence that tonight existed, that it wasn’t just another one of your daydreams where he isn’t even real.

“Want some?” Yoongi offers the lit cigarette between his fingers, and you shake your head, putting on a disgusting face.

“No thanks, they taste awful.”

You turn your head, your stomach almost dropping as you watch the beautifully hot scene of Yoongi taking another puff from his cigarette, the smoke blinding the moon for a mere second.

Why can’t he be yours?

You scratch your eyes as you suddenly yawn. “I’m tired. Are you….”

You want to ask him, the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you know he won’t stay even if you beg him to. You know the unspoken rule—Min Yoongi doesn’t stay the night with his hook-ups.

You remember, two weeks after you started sleeping with Yoongi, how a friend of Yuri’s from her cheerleading team, Hayun, while you were gossiping in the cafeteria, told you she slept with Yoongi, and when she asked him to stay for the night, he harshly declined and said he never slept with one-night stands.

Two days after, you can still vividly picture you asking him to stay, to test if what Hayun said was true, and maybe to prove something to your ego that you weren’t like the others, that maybe Yoongi felt something else for you.

Yet, he declined.

Looking at you with bored eyes, you can remember how he harshly said no to your offer. It was the first time you realised you were never going to be unique in his eyes.

And as you fell for him, thorns wrapped around your bleeding heart the more you wished for the impossible—to be seen as more, as something you know you aren’t meant to be.

“I was thinking of sleeping here. I’m too fuckin’ tired to go to my dorm, and Hobi is probably still fucking that girlfriend of his.”

Your heart glitters and skips a beat as the words leave his mouth, and you clear your throat, trying to stop the stutter in your voice, “Is that why you came here?”

Yoongi hums before crushing the cigarette in his hand and throwing it out the window, “Yeah, I guess.”

Your insides burn as you feel the newly-bloomed, thornless roses die a second after encountering their life.

“Can I? Sleep here, I mean. I’ll take the couch if you want.”

“No, that couch is too uncomfortable. You’ll wake up with horrible back pain, trust me.” You gulp, eyes falling to the ground, “Let’s just…..”

“Share the bed?”

“Yeah….If that’s too uncomfortable for you I can sleep on the couch instead—“

Yoongi slightly clenches his teeth, “Fuck no. Who do you think I am?”

“Mmm, an asshole?”

Yoongi laughs, “Fair enough. But I’m not that kind of asshole.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You chuckle, “I’ll get to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” You scratch your reddish eyes, while taking slow steps toward your bed, “Can’t even walk properly anymore. You’ll fucking pay for this, Yoongi.”

Yoongi follows you to the other side of the bed, and he chuckles while getting under the covers, “As if you don’t love it.”

You’re finally in your bed, under your covers, and you mumble with closed eyes, “Whatever, asshole.”

Yoongi chuckles lightly before turning to you, and closing his eyes, letting his consciousness fade into the dream world.

And during the night, like magnets, your bodies slowly gravitate toward each other as your skins glisten under the moonlight that shines through your window.

And when his arms hold you through the night, the moon smiles.

You wake up with your mind in a daze, and the light that shines through your window blinds your tired eyes.

‘Fuck’, you curse, ‘I can’t believe I forgot to put down the curtain.’

You shift to your side, squeezing your eyes from the uncomfortable pain on your sensitive eyes, and you gasp lightly when you feel an arm pushing you back into a chest after your body squirms.

You immediately turn your head to find Min Yoongi beside you, his eyes closed as he calmly breathes on your neck.

“Mmm, morning,” Yoongi says with a low, husky morning voice, his eyes still closed.

And even in your tiredness, your heart flies a million miles per hour, your mind questioning whether or not you are stuck inside a beautiful dream.

“Hey.” You whisper, your throat singing slightly, while you try your best to not show how deeply affected you are by waking up next to the man who holds a part of your everything.

When Yoongi slowly opens his eyes, his entire body squirms as he hisses, “Shit, why is it so light.”

You gulp, “Forgot to put down the curtain. Sorry.”

“‘S okay.” Yoongi rubs his eyes, and you find yourself admiring how cute his morning self can be.

You begin to wonder what would be like waking up next to him every day of your life, but before you can drown yourself more in the painful possibilities of what could be, Yoongi cuts your thoughts by getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi groans, stretching his arms as he slowly walks toward your door, “Gotta pee. I’ll be back.”

As Yoongi goes to the bathroom, you grab your phone beside you and immediately curse once you see Yuri’s messages lingering on your screen.

Yuri : fuxk. ykongi isn’y here.

Yuri : i puy on this red dreess just for him :(/

Yuri : y won’t he fuckk me again?

Yuri : i didn’y rven fuck jimin tonight bc i wanted ykongi. I DIBT FUVK JIMIN!!!!!!!!!!

Yuri : y does ONE dick have me like this? i hate gthis.

Yuri : but i want him again 😭😭😭😭😭 and he didn’t even show up wtF

Yuri : bet ir’s that whore Yena’s fault. saw thenm together last week. ew.

Yuri : he fuxked that bitch but not me again? WTF.

Yuri : men r trash.

Yuri : i need ur advice. where r u? :(((((((((((

  You can’t think as you read your best friend’s drunk messages.

A storm consumes the peace of mind that harboured your body moments ago, the ugliest of emotions now washing all the serenity away.

  You : hey. are u ok?

Yuri : holy shit. hi. i was so drunk last night omfg.

You : i figured loll

Yuri : wanna hang out? i need to talk to u :(

You : are u gonna talk about yoongi? 😒

Yuri is typing…

Yuri : duh. i need ur advice 😭 this man is messing with my head.

You sigh—of course, she would want to meet up to talk to him and ask you about dating advice or how to get Yoongi to notice her. It’s all she has ever talked about these past few months, and you are fucking over it.

Hearing your best friend talk about the man you secretly love, and ask you for advice on how to get him for yourself is never pleasant. Especially when you know she’s much more likely to win his heart that you so seek.

With a groan and a heavy heart, you answer.

You : sure. wanna watch a movie?

Yuri : come to my dorm then? i’m gonna have a lazy day today lol.

You : ok. be there soon.

Yuri : all right xo

“Hey, doll, is your roommate here?” Yoongi suddenly asks, leaning on your doorframe, and you almost let your phone fall to your face at the surprise.

“Shit, uh, I dunno. She kind of always comes and goes. Why?” You ask while Yoongi crosses his arms, and you fight the urge to not drool at the sight of him with only his sweatpants on and jewellery still attached to his half-naked body.

“Heard a lot of moaning from the other room. Maybe she’s watching porn or something.”

You laugh out loud, throwing your head back at his comment, “She’s not watching porn, Yoongi, she’s having sex.”

“At nine in the morning?!”

You giggle and you can’t help but coo at his opened lips and widened eyes. “People have morning sex, Yoongi. And my roommate is a bit of a sex addict.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

“Haneul—“

“___!” You hear a high-pitched voice coming from the other side of your dorm, and you immediately freeze on your spot once you see your roommate.

“Where are the goddamn condoms?! I’m trying to fuck here—Min Yoongi?!” Your roommate’s eyes widen, and Yoongi smirks before lazily waving at your roommate.

“Do I know you?”

Your roommate scoffs, “No, But I know you.” Haneul scoffs, scrunching her face in disgust as she eyes Yoongi up and down, “What are you doing in ___’s room—wait, what the fuck?!”

Your roommate’s eyes widen as she turns her head to you, and you only gulp thickly, your hands starting to tremble once you realise the situation you have been caught in.

You know Haneul doesn’t like Yoongi, she has vebalized her distaste for him countless times within the past month, and whenever his name slipped Yuri’s lips, she was fast to roll her eyes and fake gag.

She told you how Yoongi once fucked one of her best friends, and left her hanging the very next day, not even bothering to answer any of the texts she sent weeks later, something he commonly did with his one-night stands, and how devastated it left her friend.

Since then, Haneul can’t even hear his name and she’s already rolling her eyes or scrunching her face in disgust.

It’s a bit hypocritical of her, really, since she’s done the same thing to the men and women she sleeps with, but who are you to call on her shit?

“Um, it’s—it’s not what it looks like!” You immediately blurt out, your hands starting to shake and your lungs constricting when you catch her widened eyes, a drop of cold sweat threatening to run through your forehead.

You look to Yoongi, desperation inside your pupils when you stare into his calm eyes, praying that he understands you want him to lie for you, tell Haneul anything that denies her obvious suspicion that you two have slept together.

“Yeah. We had a project together and I accidentally slept in. As if I would ever do her.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

Oh.

Your heart dies a little at his words.

You can’t stop the thoughts that take over your mind. Is it really what he thinks?

Deep down, you know it’s true—you and him aren’t a match, it was never even supposed to happen in the first place.

But the universe is harsh, promising a cursed future for your heart, destined to seek its destruction within a love not reciprocated. Cursed to deteriorate within the empty kisses of lust your soul thought to be the love you started to feel.

He’s everything, he’s the centre of everyone’s attention, he’s the moon every poet praises, and you’re nothing but the rain.

The one that everyone dreads.

“She’s too good of a person to ever sleep with you.” Haneul snarls, a look of disgust plastered on her face, and Yoongi’s lips twitch—you know he wants to smirk. To tease you and tell her he’s the one you meet after hours when you text her you’re doing a late shift at the coffee shop you work at, or that you’re staying late in the library to study.

“Whatever. I’m leaving, anyway.” Yoongi huffs, turning to grab his shirt from the ground, and then he turns to you, “Text me the final results, K?”

Yoongi gets out of your room, bumping his shoulder with Haneul, and she only scoffs, throwing daggers at his back as he walks to your dorm’s exit.

“What a fucking prick.” Haneul rolls her eyes, “It must be hell working with that bastard. Anyway, where are the condoms again?”

You point to your bedside table, “Second drawer.”

Haneul immediately opens the drawer, and gets a packet, examining it, “Hm, the dick isn’t this large but it’ll do. Thanks, babe!” You laugh, throwing your head back, and your roommate runs toward her room where her dick appointment—as she calls them—awaits on her bed.

You feel your phone vibrate on your hand, and your heart squeezes once you see the name plastered on your screen. You forgot about your encounter with Yuri.

  Yuri : bitch where tf are you????

You : sorryyy, i got caught up on some studies from my last lecture.

Yuri : jesus you don’t have a life.

You : 😒

Yuri : whatever. if you don’t hurry up i’ll choose the movie alone…..

You : oh hell no!!!!

You : be there in ten

Yuri : that’s what i thought

You roll your eyes and put on a baggy grey sweater and the Radiohead shirt you stole from your older brother before grabbing your flip-flops and heading out of your room.

You know you don’t look flattering in the slightest, and if you went out in the wild, people would look at you with the most disgusted and judging faces, but Yuri’s apartment is not even two minutes from yours.

You pass through your roommate’s room, and immediately scrunch your face at the loud moans and loud squeak of the bed.

You’re grateful that your bed doesn’t squeak like Haneul’s, or else you’d be screwed.

You’re finally out of your apartment, and once you reach Yuri’s, you knock only once and she’s already opening the door for you.

“Bitch, I need your help.” You stare at Yuri—she’s just like you, with her hair a mess and baggy clothes, yet, there’s a difference.

She still looks amazing, and well, you look like a fucking witch.

Oh, how unfair is life, huh?

Yuri grabs your arm and leads you to her mini sofa, and your stomach twists as it awaits for his name to come out of her lips, the name you were chanting like a mantra at the devilish hours of last night.

“I need your help with Yoongi,” Yuri whines as she bounces on the couch, and you sit beside her, a sigh leaving your lips as you groan loudly.

“I know, I know. But, fuck, this crush on him might be getting deeper.” Your eyes shift to the ground as she continues, “Jimin asked to fuck me again, and I said no because I was waiting for Yoongi to appear. I said no to Jimin, ___!”

Jimin and Yuri had been in a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement for many months now. You knew Jimin wanted something more, but Yuri’s eyes only shifted toward Yoongi, and he accepted it because if having sex was the only way to have Yuri, then he would gladly do it, even if his heart shattered in the process.

You remember when he told you this, you thought he was a fool, an idiot—who in their right mind would let themselves be hurt just to be close to the one who harms them?

“There are plenty of other fish in the sea”, you told him then.

“But she’s the only one I want.” He replied while sighing.

Oh, how you wish you didn’t understand Jimin today—how you wish you didn’t find stars in Yoongi’s eyes, ones that cursed you to find solace in them, when they didn’t even shine for you.

“I’m absolutely fucked. Why does one dick have me like this?” Yuri groans, grabbing her hair in frustration.

You ignore the burn in your throat, and try to give her the advice you usually would—you were always good with giving other people advice, even when you yourself didn’t really follow them.

“You gotta stop thinking about him too much. He’s a fucking asshole, dude. He’s probably out there fucking another girl right now, and you’re here whining because of him. You’re better than him, Yuri.”

You absolutely want to throw up as the words spill out of your mouth, you are no better than the the devil. How did you reach this point of fucking your best friend’s crush?

“Ugh,” She groans, passing her hands through her smooth black hair, “I kind of…..texted him yesterday, asking him to meet me at the locker room, and he didn’t answer yet. I bet it’s that bitch Yena’s fault. I should have kicked her off the team when I had the chance. She can’t even do a backflip properly.” Yuri scoffs, and your blood runs cold at her words.

So much information for your little, fragile heart, that aches at her words as you imagine Yoongi placing the hands that were on your skin mere hours ago, on another, better woman’s body.

“Can we just, like, watch the film and not talk about Yoongi? I-I don’t even know the dude and I already hate him.” You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, and Yuri sighs, resting her head on your shoulder as she starts browsing Netflix’s catalogue.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m talking way too much about him,” Yuri sighs once more, “But what about you? Don’t you think Namjoon would be a good guy for you?”

Yuri lifts her eyebrows twice suggestively, and you roll your eyes, “You only want me and him to work out so you can get closer to Yoongi.”

“That may be partially true, but you and him make such a good couple! You both are nerds and love to study and y’know, you guys just match!” Yuri lightly hits your shoulder and you can’t help but scoff at her words.

Namjoon is an attractive guy, and maybe if you weren’t so caught up with the forbidden fruit that is Yoongi, you would see him in a different light—but you can’t, not when only one pair of brown, majestically beautiful eyes are the only thing in your mind.

“I don’t like him that way, Yuri, so just drop it, alright?”

Yuri groans, “All right, whatever. What movie do you wanna watch, anyway?”

“Scream?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Ugh, why are the options always fucking junk food?” Yuri groans as you both put your trays on top of the wooden table, and you can’t help but giggle at your best friend’s frustration.

“You could’ve gotten just the salad on the other side of the cafeteria.”

Yuri rolls her eyes as Yuri takes a harsh bite out of her mozzarella pizza, “Please stop making sense right now and let me put my anger on this uni’s horrible food options.”

You giggle, taking the softest bite out of your hotdog, “Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?

“Please, never say that again.” Yuri scrunches her face and you snicker, taking another bite of your hotdog as you wait for your best friend to stop her dramatic sigh before she talks again. “I saw that bitch Yena all over Yoongi today.”

Yuri scoffs, and you almost choke on your hotdog when the sentence slips out of your best friend’s mouth, “She’s such a fucking slut. She was basically flashing her tits to him, thank fuck he wasn’t even paying attention.”

The smallest sense of relief washes over your body when she tells you Yoongi wasn’t paying attention, and the smallest part of your heart hopes he wasn’t paying attention because his eyes were only set on you, but you knew that to be false.

You would never be the first he would ever really see, even if you so wish for it when the clock strikes midnight and tears threaten to fall down from your eyes as you remember his careless whispers.

“Aren’t you being a lil’ too harsh? It’s not like you don’t do the same thing….” You mumble through your food, and Yuri looks at you with widened betrayed eyes.

“You’re supposed to be agreeing with me, not being the voice of reason. God, you can be so fucking annoying at times.” Yuri rolls her eyes, and you sink into your seat.

Yuri was a good friend, she truly was.

You’ve been friends ever since you both met in your freshman year of high school, but you can always forget just how mean she can be when she doesn’t get her way or hears exactly what she doesn’t want to.

And you still can’t understand how you don’t fight back.

You know you’ve got the sassy comeback on your lips, you know how to shut her up in a second, and if it were anybody else, you’d spit it out with no hesitation.

And yet, you stand here, with your stomach burning in shame as you sink into your seat while silently eating your hot dog.

“Holy shit, Namjoon’s here!”

Your eyes widen as Yuri smirks, “Wait, Yuri, no—”

“Namjoon!” Yuri calls out, waving her arm with a smile on her face, and Namjoon visibly flinches, almost dropping his tray on the floor. He looks at your table with wide eyes, and you hide your face in your palms, groaning loudly at your best friend’s actions.

“Oh, hey ___, hey Yuri.” Namjoon flashes his smile, cute dimples appearing on each of his cheeks, and if your heart wasn’t so caught up in the forbidden fruit that is his friend Min Yoongi, you know your heart would have faintly flickered at his cuteness.

Yuri licks her lip, flashing her best fake smile to the man before you, the one that was enough to make so many men weak on their knees. “Doesn’t ___ look so pretty today?”

Your face heats up at her words, and you hesitantly look up to see Namjoon smiling at you, you could only wish it was his gummy smile in front of you.

“Yeah. You look cute, ____. Is that a new shirt?”

You slowly nod your head, a small smile tugging on your lips, “Yeah, actually. I bought it from—”

“So, Namjoon, do you know where Yoongi is?” Yuri flutters her eyes, ever so slowly tracing her nails on the man’s hand, and you internally roll her eyes. Yuri’s oldest trick in the book, and somehow, it works on every single guy.

Namjoon's cheeks turn into a faint pink, “U-um, I don’t know, I-I texted him today and—”

“Namjoon!” A deep voice calls Namjoon from the other side of the cafeteria, and your heart stops as you realise it’s just the man whom your heart bleeds for every day of your life.

Min Yoongi.

You watch with the heaviest heart as Yuri’s eyes glisten when the basketball captain comes into her field of vision, and bile threatens to burn your throat as you realise you aren’t the only one to feel so moved for the man.

“Oh hey, Yuri.” Yoongi greets your best friend and bites his lip once he turns to you—you know it’s tortuous for him to hold back his teasing whenever he sees you, but you glare at him, silently threatening him.

“Hey—”

“Oh, Yoongi! I don’t think you know her yet, but this is my best friend, ____.” Yuri giggles, and Yoongi smirks, putting his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, I know who she is.” Yoongi licks his lips, “Hey, ____.”

You visibly gulp the lump that suddenly formed in your throat as he stares at you with those tempting cat-like eyes, and you feel the world stopping, your lungs failing to let any more oxygen in as you stare at each other for the fewest milliseconds before your best friend is talking again with her high-pitched voice.

“Oh, you do?” Yuri turns her head innocently, and you want to laugh at just how fake she can be. You always thought she should’ve been an actress with her amazing skills. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Do you guys wanna eat with us?”

“Um, I don’t think Yoon—“

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi says, immediately cutting Namjoon off, who looks at Yoongi with widened eyes.

Namjoon slowly pulled a chair next to you as Yoongi got the chair next to Yuri, who silently squealed at his action.

Namjoon furrows his eyebrows as he stares at Yoongi in front of him.

He knows his best friend like the palm of his hand, and he knows Yoongi would rather be caught dead than be with anyone at this time of the day. The basketball player has no patience for anyone before his meal, and even worse before he has his first coffee of the day.

For fuck’s sake, the player had just shoved Yena off mere moments ago, and she’s notorious for being one of the campus’ hottest girls, with huge tits Namjoon would give up the world to be able to suck.

Yet, now he’s here, willingly sitting beside Yuri, his hottest yet most annoying hookup, before eating his lunch.

Namjoon waits for the scowl from his best friend’s lips, but all he does is bite it as he sits beside Yuri.

As Namjoon stares at his best friend and Yuri who stands before him with the sparkliest eyes Namjoon’s ever seen, something clicks inside the man.

A lightbulb. An epiphany.

Namjoon’s jaw drops to the floor.

Yoongi fucking likes Yuri.

Yoongi leans on his chair, crossing his arms on his chest as he stares at the woman in front of him, you and your heart beat so fast, that you could swear your vision almost starts to fall as you stare at the man before you.

“So, Yoongi, how’s practice going for you? Do you think you’ll win on Friday?”

Yoongi scoffs lightly, a familiar cocky smirk resting on his lips as he turns his head to Yuri, and a venomous feeling courses through your veins.

You can’t help but wonder what passes through his mind when he stares at her. Does he think she’s beautiful?

More beautiful than you?

You know that’s what everyone thinks, and not even you can deny it—Yuri is ethereal, the most angelic features adorning her face, and you know you could never compare to that.

“Of course, we’ll win. My team is the fuckin’ best.”

Yuri giggles, slowly placing her slim, almost angelic hands on top of Yoongi’s arm, “Of course you will! I’m training my girls to put on the best dance for your victory on Friday.”

You expect Yoongi to stutter, to fall like putty to Yuri’s touch, and yet, he easily withdraws his arm from her angelic hand.

Yuri visibly frowns at that, and you see the faintest glimpse of rage from her eyes before it’s back to the sparkles of admiration as she stares at the basketball player beside her.

You silently sigh as you take another bite of your hotdog.

You will always be invisible next to Yuri, won’t you?

Are you so cursed, that the man you so love, that your heart cries for every night, prefers your mesmerizing best friend over you?

You love Yuri, you truly do, but you could only wish that for once in your life, she wasn’t the one to be picked. That you’d for once be visible in the eyes you so want, but you know she’s the only one he will seek.

It’s always been like that. A cruel fate that is written by destiny itself.

It has happened so many times before.

Your crush from high school asked her out for prom and you stood there, watching the scene as your heart broke for the first time.

It happened too with your first lab partner whom you developed the smallest crush on during freshman year of college, who asked Yuri out on a date while at the same party where you decided to confess your slight feelings for him.

And the last time it happened was with your gym crush.

You thought this time, he wouldn’t fall into Yuri's clutches, since she didn’t go to the same gym as you—but what are the chances that she suddenly decides to join you for one of your workouts?

And the minute Yuri’s stepped into the gym, you saw your gym crush’s eyes fall on her, and it didn’t take long until he asked for her number, and the following week, she told you every detail about how thoroughly he fucked her, and she explained how she dumped him because he wasn’t Yoongi.

The worst part is, she knew you liked them all.

And you know Yoongi will fall for her charm. He will slip out of your hands so easily, all that will remain are the memories of him that will be as distant as mercury is to neptune.

Forced to watch destiny engrave their names together on the moon while you burn like the sun that is your love for the man that will never be yours.

You’re so caught up in your own little world, you almost jump once you feel your phone vibrating on your pocket, and your heart jumps from your chest once you read the name lingering on your screen.

Your cheeks heat up, and your eyes shift to Yoongi in front of you, who gives you the tiniest glance while his luscious lips form the devilish smirk you will never admit arouses you.

You quickly turn your head to Yuri, your fast heart pulsating on your ears as adrenaline rushes through your system, and the slightest relief washes through you when you realise she’s talking about herself to Yoongi, who doesn’t even pay attention to her hand on his arm, but instead, the phone on his hand under the wooden table.

Your eyes widen while your breath hitches at his lewd words—how could he have the courage to send such a thing when your best friend is beside him, trying her best siren-like tricks to seduce him.

“Hey, Yoongi. Are you listening?”

Yoongi turns his head up to your best friend, and his face is so cold and indifferent, it sends shivers through your spine.

“Sure.”

“Who are you texting?” Yuri asks with her best innocent voice, and Yoongi immediately shuts his phone off when your friend tries to get a peek of his screen. “Is it……Is it Yena?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Yuri’s face immediately falls, and your eyes widen at his sharpness.

It’s been some time since you’ve seen this part of him, you almost forgot just how much his words could cut anyone’s heart like a knife while his eyes held no remorse for it.

You’re an awful liar, aren’t you?

Of course you need him, but not in the ways he thinks—your heart needs him so your river can flow, so your moon can shine on your body, so your nerves can find the only calmness it needs, and that only happens when you’re next to him.

You sigh, and send another message, asking him to stop it, and he only texts back with a cold ‘K’.

You put your phone back in your back pocket, and when you shift your head, your eyes unexpectedly catch Yoongi’s brown ones, that hold a glint of mischief behind tem, and you know he wants to tease you, to whisper in your ear the many positions he will take you in, to make you flushed with his words for everyone to see.

But he knows he can’t, and when he shifts his eyes to your best friend beside him, your soul screams for him again, for his attention on you, because you know briefness is the only thing you, the invisible one, will ever get from him.

“I gotta go to my next lecture. See you, Joon.”

Namjoon awkwardly waves to Yoongi as he takes a big bite of his pizza, his mind wondering why his best friend had acted so strange, so unlike him.

Namjoon knows Yoongi never liked Yuri—he always complained how that girl couldn’t hop off his dick for the life of her, and how she’s the least favourite of his many hookups. And yet, now he willingly sits next to her?

Yoongi is known to not care for his hookups—he doesn’t even like talking to them unless he’s at a party or just horny.

Namjoon doesn’t blame his friend—Yuri, although incredibly annoying, is a beautiful, fucking hot woman.

“Uh, I’ll be going too. It was great seeing you two.” Namjoon gives you two his friendliest smile, and you wave goodbye as he steps up from his chair and leaves your table, leaving you and a fuming Yuri alone.

‘Oh fuck.’ You gulp when seeing your best friend’s eye twitch.

“He was totally texting that slut Yena.” Yuri clenches her teeth, and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe while your heart picks up its pace once again.

You feel like a traitor in the court of friendship, a clandestine lover of the very person who had captured your heart, knowing he will squeeze its life out every minute that passes by while you love him so.

You knew how much your best friend liked him, how much she pined for him, and yet, you still chose to forbiddenly develop a storm of emotions for the same man that never chose to look you in the eye before that night.

And you became the secret villain in the story you never intended to write, the monster that fell for the same man your best friend held sparkly eyes for.

Your stomach burns with the guilt that swallows you whole as you stare into oblivion while Yuri shamelessly tears Yena apart, and you can’t help but wonder what she would do to you if she ever found out what you and Yoongi did after hours.

With a sigh, you swallow the tear of shame that threatens to slip out of your guilt-filled eyes.

“I don’t even understand what he sees in her. Besides her boobs, she’s just an ugly whore desperate for attention. I am so much better than her and he doesn’t even pay attention to me.” Yuri scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest as she lets all her anger out while you stand there absentminded.

“Are you even listening?!” Yuri growls, scoffing once more when she sees you flinch.

“Shit, sorry, I kinda dissociated there.” You chuckle nervously, and Yuri hums.

“Were you thinking of Namjoon?” Yuri smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, I was thinking of all the assignments I have due. You gotta stop trying to make me and Namjoon work dude, we’re both not interested.”

Yuri rolls her eyes and fake gags, “Lord, you’re so fucking boring. You need a dick to take that stick out of your ass.”

“I’m not interested, thanks.”

Yuri rolls her eyes, and before she can say any thing else, a voice cuts her off by calling her name.

“Yuri!”

Yuri slaps her face while groaning, and you turn your head to find a blue-haired man walking toward your table.

Park Jimin.

You snicker at Yuri’s state, and her groans get louder as Jimin gets closer to your table.

“Hey, Yuri.” Jimin smiles while taking the seat Yoongi was in before, and Yuri rolls her eyes.

“Jimin, if you wanna fuck, I can’t right now. Go ask Mina, or something.” Yuri grumbles while looking at her red nails, and your eyes fill with pity was you watch Jimin’s mouth turn into the slightest frown.

“I don’t wanna fuck, Yuri. Can’t I just come here and talk to you?” Jimin sighs, and looks at your before waving, “Oh, hey, ____. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

You chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest, “Hey, Jimin. No worries.”

Jimin turns his head to Yuri, the oh so familiar shimmer inside his eyes as he stares at your best friend, “You look fucking beautiful—”

“Whatever. I have some boring math lecture now, so I gotta go. You wanna watch my training later?”

You shake your head with a sigh, and Jimin’s eyes shift to the ground, “Can’t, I have a shift at the cafe tonight.”

“Ugh, fine.” Yuri rolls her eyes and grabs her tray before stepping out of her seat, “Say hi to Taehyung for me.”

You chuckle lightly, “Sure. See you.”

“Bye, bitch.”

As you watch Yuri walk away, you sigh heavily, your heart heavier than a rock, guilt tightening its grip on your chest as you stare at your food.

“I’m so fucking pathetic.” Jimin groans into his palms, and you watch him with a clenching heart.

“You gotta give up, man. She’s not gonna change fo you.” You purse your lips, your stomach turning at the advice that comes out of your mouth, and Jimin sighs.

“I can’t, dammit.” Jimin slams his hand on the table, and you flinch, guilt eating you alive as your mind screams how much of a hypocrite you are.

“Why do you even love her so much?”

Jimin chuckles before letting out a deep breath, “I don’t fucking know.”

“Well, if you truly don’t know, then….”

Jimin gulps while looking at the ground.

You know the look in his eyes from a mile away—shame.

“Gotta go. It was nice seeing you, ____. See you later.”

You smile tightly while waving slightly, “See you, Jimin.”

As Jimin walks away, your fingers go to your throbbing temple.

Until when are you going to sustain the weight of guilt before you crumble?

“What’s up with you today?” Taehyung asks in a rushed whisper, and you hum while pressing the button on the machine.

“What do you mean?” You ask, never taking your eyes off the cup as it fills with coffee, and Taehyung sighs. You were always a tough one to crack.

“I literally saw you put whipped cream on an Iced Americano. You are clearly not okay. What the hell happened?”

“It’s none of your business, Taehyung.” You roll your eyes, and Taehyung scoffs, but he’s not taken aback by your rudeness, no, it only fuels the curiosity inside him.

You and Taehyung worked together in the cafe right beside your campus and he was a great colleague. Attentive, fun to be around, a little too bubbly for your liking at times, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

But Taehyung was always a curious guy, and although it could be funny at times to know some gossip during your working hours, it was never fun whenever he mingled in your business.

“Tsk,” Taehyung clicks his tongue, “Something’s going on, and I will find out, ____.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, grabbing no lactose milk beside you, and praying Taehyung would leave you alone.

“Wanna hear some gossip to cheer you up?” Taehyung smirks, and you sigh while nodding your head—if this was going to let him get away from you, then, of course, you would hear a silly little gossip you would later forget.

“Y’know Min Yoongi?”

Your heart suddenly stops at the name that slips from Taehyung’s lips.

“Yeah. Who doesn’t?” You snort, and Taehyung chuckles.

“True. Anyway, there’s a rumour he’s fucking someone from the cheer squad. Just thought I’d let you know, cause, well…..your friend, Yuri…..”

Everyone on campus knows about Yuri’s obsessive crush on Yoongi.

She made sure to remind each girl she saw him hooking up with that he was hers. Rumours about the crazy head cheerleader spread like wildfire at the beginning of your sophomore year after Yuri ‘accidentally’ tripped a girl over in the hallway and hissed a loud ‘slut’ while doing so.

The girl later overheard you scolding Yuri for doing that to the innocent girl because she saw her and Yoongi having sex in his car after cheerleading practice, and she spread to everyone just how crazy Yuri is.

You never saw the girl again, rumours say she transferred to another university.

You gulp thickly, a burn suddenly forming on your throat, but before you can even answer, another one of your co-workers, Eunchae, rapidly speaks up, “Who’s fucking who? I smelled gossip from a mile away.”

You roll your eyes, both your co-workers are suckers for gossip, and you sometimes question your own sanity whenever you are near them.

Taehyung chuckles, “Oh, just a rumour that Yoongi’s fucking someone from the cheerleading squad.”

Eunchae chuckles, “Ah, Min Yoongi. Best dick I’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widen, and Taehyung’s mouth drops before he talks again, “What the fuck, he got you too?”

“It was, like, many, many months ago. That man fucked me so good I accidentally said ‘I love you’ while orgasming.”

Taehyung makes a dramatic gag expression, “Ew. TMI, Eunchae. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”

Ah yes, Taehyung is a basketball player on the college’s team, one that Min Yoongi is the captain of, and is part of the same friend group as Yoongi.

When you first started working in this little cafe months ago and you saw Taehyung for the first time, you internally groaned, thinking he would be a cocky shit like some of his teammates, but he surprised you by being an annoying cinnamon roll you learned to like.

You still can’t understand how he and Yoongi are even in the same friend group. You know they aren’t super close, not like Taehyung is with Jungkook, or Yoongi is with Hoseok and Namjoon, but they are still friends.

How could Taehyung, the sweet yet irritating man, even be in the same space as the cocky asshole that is Min Yoongi?

“You said I love you to him?” You laugh a little too loud, and Eunchae sighs heavily.

“Yeah. Haven’t talked to him since. I sometimes miss his dick, though.” Eunchae sighs once more, entering a daydream state, and Taehyung scoffs while crossing his arms against his chest.

“I don’t get it. He fucks literally everyone and has every girl after him. Like, what the fuck am I doing wrong?” Taehyung cutely pouts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes—Kim Taehyung is a fun man to be around sometimes, but holy fuck, can he get on your nerves.

“Ugh. Taehyung, Stop acting like you get no bitches when I literally saw you fucking that girl at that party last week.” You hiss—you’re sick and tired of Kim Taehyung acting like he doesn’t get any women when the man looks like a fallen angel. You’ve heard so many people talking about how they had a crush on him, and yet here he is, acting like he doesn’t fuck a new girl every other week.

However, unlike Min Yoongi, Taehyung is known to be sweet to his hookups, and you still can’t understand how no one hasn’t fallen in love with him yet.

“Yeah, and she asked me if Yoongi was single after we had sex. She had all of this,” Taehyung points at his body, more specifically his dick, and both you and Eunchae scrunch your faces in repulsion, “And still had the nerve to ask about Yoongi.”

“Oh shit. What did you do?” Eunchae asks with a lifted eyebrow and Taehyung gulps.

His eyes shift to the floor, and he mutters, “I gave her his number.”

“You did what?!” Eunchae shouts while you sigh disappointingly, passing your palms through your face, and Taehyung pouts.

“I just—What should I have done? Tell her to go fuck herself after we literally just fucked?!”

Eunchae scoffs, “Duh, that’s what I’d do.”

“And she’d probably spread to everyone what an ‘asshole’ I am. I gotta keep my clean reputation, y’know?”

Eunchae snorts, and you can’t help the small giggle you let out, “What reputation?”

“You’re being mean, ____.”

“And you were dumb as fuck, Tae.” You shrug, and Taehyung whines.

“Whatever,” He huffs, “I still don’t get how every single woman is down bad for him. Your friend Yuri, the whole cheerleading squad, and every single woman I kiss talks about him. At this point ___ is the only one he hasn’t fucked.”

You almost let the coffee in your hands spill on your uniform, and you clear your throat.

Oh, if only Taehyung knew.

“And how do you know that?”

Taehyung scoffs, looking at you as if what you asked was the most absurd thing in the world, “You’re not his type.”

Eunchae squints her eyes, “And what is his type?”

Taehyung sighs, “Confident, annoying, kinda bratty, big ass, hot as fuck, maybe even a little slutty. Basically the opposite of our precious ____ here. And you’re just too good to fuck an asshole like yoongi.”

‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ Your eyebrows scrunch, and your heart falls to your stomach at his words.

“I’d say your friend Yuri is the perfect example of his type. She’s fuckin’ hot—“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You grumble, angrily putting your coffee on the counter, and Taehyung furrows his eyebrows in confusion while Eunchae mentally slaps her forehead.

You turn your head to your friends, your eyes starting to sting more with every second that passes, “Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

You quickly head to the bathroom, and you completely fall apart once the door closes. Your hand covers your mouth, hoping to muffle your small whimpers.

Your tears were a silent confession to the pain that had become your constant companion. You shouldn’t be like this, crying over a man that isn’t even close to being yours.

You know you aren’t his type, that people like you aren’t supposed to be with him—it’s against the law of nature, of the way life is written by destiny.

Taehyung is right—you aren’t his type. You are not Yuri; you were not even second to her beauty, you were the third, fourth, fifth, the one to hide behind the scenes as people like Yoongi and Yuri shined on stage.

That truth was a dagger, piercing through your soul with every heartbeat.

Yoongi doesn’t love you, his world doesn’t pulsate for you, his heart doesn’t flicker for your quirks.

You feel your phone buzz inside your pocket, and you grab it, only for your heart to sink even more when you see the name displayed on your screen.

‘Speaking of the devil himself,’ you think to yourself.

Yoongi 👎 : hey doll

Yoongi 👎 : what r u doing rn?

You sniffle, typing fast while drops of your silent tears stain your phone’s screen.

You : i’m at work

You : but i think i’ll be leaving early.

Yoongi 👎 is typing…..

Yoongi : everything ok?

You smile, your erratic nerves calming down as you wipe the drops of salty water on your cheeks.

You : i’m just not feeling too well

Yoongi 👎 : :(

You : why’d u ask?

Yoongi 👎 is typing…..

Yoongi 👎 : i’m bored as fuck. hobi and i were practising for friday but he left me here alone bc of some emergency with his gf.

Yoongi 👎 : i swear that woman is taking him away from me.

Yoongi 👎 : u wanna come here?

rest is continued on the reblogs of this post !! you can access it here 💗 tumblr is annoying with this 1k blocks thing, so i had to cut it off :")

Latibule VIII

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

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

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

A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻

Masterlist, Latibule VII

Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.

“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.

“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,

Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”

“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”

Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”

“It was a compliment, hyung!”

Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”

—-

Dominant.

That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.

He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.

“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?

His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.

You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.

“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.

“We need to get up. We have work-“

“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”

You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.

And so, you two called in sick.

“Then what should we do today?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.

But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.

Suga made you happy.

He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.

And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.

You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.

“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.

“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.

“You know…”

“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.

You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”

“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“

“I take it back. I take it all back-“

Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”

Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.

You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.

A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.

All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.

“Suga-“

“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”

You didn’t.

That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.

You feared your condition was near its extremity.

One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.

And you were used to this.

Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.

It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.

Until one night, the unthinkable happened.

Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.

You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.

You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.

But you did.

It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.

“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.

You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.

He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”

A beat of silence. “I have none.”

“Do you have…anyone?”

It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.

He smelled like home, you thought.

Maybe you did have someone.

Maybe you had him.

“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”

Tip Jar

Latibule IX

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