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waking reverie

levi ackerman x f!reader

summary: sick and tired of overhearing the sounds of you fooling around with a fellow squad leader, Levi decides to confront you afterward at a particularly inopportune moment.

or, Levi catches you getting yourself off and has a thing or two to say (and do) about it.

word count: 4.3k

content: NSFW, 18+, smut, masturbation, fingering, oral sex, squirting, unprotected sex, rough sex, dom!levi, possessive!levi, creampie, choking, spit kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms

Hange is going to kill him if he keeps stealing their pencils. 

It’s the first thought that crosses Levi’s mind when a loud cracking noise is followed by something sharp jabbing into his palm, and he glances down to see the writing utensil crumble into a sad clump of shards over his page of notes. But he doesn’t mull over it long, not when he’s distracted by something he’s heard far too much of over the past few days—the sound of you giggling, followed by the door to Squad Leader Daniel Flore’s office slamming shut.

Tonight’s pencil met its earliest grave yet, the wood starting to splinter an hour ago when the mess hall cleared out, at which point Levi had begun unconsciously squeezing it in irritated anticipation of…this. 

There’s a scuffling of boots and the squeak of a chair scooting across the floor next door. But then things are relatively silent for a few moments after, and Levi looks up at the ceiling pleadingly, wondering if maybe he’ll finally get some peace tonight. But no, his hopes are quickly dashed when he hears the muffled yet unmistakable sound of you fucking moaning. 

Levi wishes he had another pencil to snap in half. 

Maybe the chair legs will have to do.

It’s not that Levi gives a shit about his fellow Survey Corps members getting laid. In fact, if it means they’re less high strung on the field, he’ll gladly set up a goddamn matchmaking booth outside of the building, if only to save himself the headache of trying to maintain order over a group of sexually frustrated idiots. Whatever it takes to make his life a little less miserable.

He’s perhaps a bit more judgemental when it comes to Squad Leaders pairing off, often shamelessly barking at them the next day not to let their “messy shit” get in the way of doing their damn jobs. Yet he generally waves it off all the same, rolling his eyes when the lovesick idiots start to realize what a bad idea it is to grapple with feelings when you’re supposed to be saving the world from man-eating Titans.

Anyway, you and Flore are both Squad Leaders. Fine. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before.

Whatever.

But the real fucking issue here is the fact that Flore keeps his desk up against the wall that he shares with Levi’s office. And he’s been fucking you up against—or on top of, maybe—that stupid, shitty piece of furniture for the past three nights in a row.

Loudly.

So loudly that Levi’s not sure if Flore’s got something to prove or if he’s just downright stupid. Probably the latter, if Levi’s being honest. Either way, he’s well and truly on the verge of losing his mind at this point.

And if a tiny part of it is because he’s downright fucking baffled that you’d go barking up Flore’s tree of all people? 

Levi Ackerman is not jealous.

…he just assumed you’d have better taste.

—

Perhaps fucking Daniel Flore a mere wall away from Captain Levi’s office wasn’t quite your best decision as of late. 

And not just because of the fact that he can more than likely hear the two of you going at it like foolish teenagers, which is just asking to draw more ire from the already irritable man. 

Not just because, despite your tendency to bicker with one another like it’s your job, you actually have quite a solid working relationship with the Captain. Something you’d tentatively call friendship—and he might even be inclined to agree, on his less moody days. 

The most conflicting part of your tipsy decision that has since turned into a multi-day affair is something else entirely. Something that, in reality, shouldn’t even matter. 

…because it’s not like he’s even interested.

At one point or another, you found yourself developing feelings for Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.

—but the idea of Captain Levi fucking Ackerman deigning to get down and dirty with you of all people is laughable, at best. He can hardly step out of his office without turning heads, let alone when he makes his way through town. With the reputation that he’s built for himself over the years, he could have anyone he wanted.

Flore’s nice enough. And he’s a decent kisser, you’ll give him that. But as you glance back at the brown-haired man leaning against the chair and panting, a smug grin on his face as you slip your pants back on to conclude your activities, you internally cringe at the feeling of your underwear brushing against your sad, throbbing clit.

A throbbing clit that you’ll have to sneak off to your own office down the hall to take care of yourself for the second night in a row, because while you ended your first encounter somewhat satisfied, Flore hasn’t been able to get you off since. You’ve put on enough of a show each time to leave him thinking otherwise, half convinced that maybe there’s just something wrong with you, but after tonight, you may have to rethink your arrangement.

There’s a small, well-worn couch situated in the corner of your office, which you make a beeline for after closing the door and shucking your pants off once more. The material drops onto the wooden floor in a careless heap as you slump back onto the cushions, letting your thighs fall open as you lean your head back and slowly swipe a finger over the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. 

Your folds are frustratingly dry, your fleeting thoughts of Flore doing absolutely nothing to help dampen your situation. So, also for the second night in a row…your thoughts betray you as they drift to a place you know will leave you slick and whimpering.

A vision of soft, black hair, steel gray eyes, and a familiar commanding, low voice is all it takes to encourage the sticky arousal now dripping at the apex of your thighs, a shameless little moan falling from your lips as you slide two fingers into your aching cunt.

“Have you ever considered that there are other people in the barra—”

The door to your office flies open as Levi storms in without knocking, though his barked out words are immediately cut off the moment his eyes stray to the sofa. He freezes in place, not even bothering to turn around as he slowly kicks the door shut behind him.

And it would be comical, just how many emotions are fighting their way across Levi’s normally composed face, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s now staring at you while you finger yourself because you were so desperate to get yourself off that you forgot to lock the fucking door. 

He blinks, crossing his arms. “You’re joking.”

Fingers still lodged inside of your wet heat because you can’t decide whether or not that’s less awkward than pulling them out and wiping them on the couch, you realize that you have no idea what to say. “I—”

“Was fucking like animals for forty-five minutes up against the wall beside my office not enough for you?” he deadpans.

Your face heats up in embarrassment, and you pull your eyes away from his heavy gaze, looking off to the side of the room as you subtly shift your fingers to your thigh. “That’s not exactly…I just didn’t…” you mutter, trailing off. 

Levi scoffs as he swiftly ascertains what you’re alluding to, “Don’t tell me Flore doesn’t even know how to get a woman off.”

You bristle with embarrassment over his forwardness, finally snapping your legs closed and hastily tugging a pillow over your lap. “That’s none of your business.”

“If two Squad Leaders are fucking on my watch, it’s my business to make sure your messy little relationship doesn’t end up getting us all killed in the field,” he sneers. 

“There’s no relationship. We’re not dating. It was a one time thing”

Levi doesn’t respond.

“Okay, a few-times thing,” you amend with a huff, shifting uncomfortably. 

He continues to stare at you, waiting.

“I was lonely and tired of taking care of things myself. Happy? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

His boots hardly make a sound as he takes a step closer to you and observes, “It looks like you’re still taking care of things yourself, anyway.”

You sigh heavily, “It’s slim pickings around here, Captain.”

Another step.

“So Flore was your top choice?”

Despite the fact that you’re nearly naked in front of the man who’s currently raising an eyebrow as he nudges your discarded underwear with the toe of his boot, you manage to school your features into a mask of cool indifference as you shrug, “My preferred taste is a bit more…unattainable.”

“Let me guess, Commander Erwin?” he drawls.

You can’t help the choked out laugh that escapes you at that—just how very off base his assumptions are. If nothing else, perhaps it means you’ve done a somewhat decent job at not making your crush on the Captain wholly apparent. 

“I mean, he sure does look like he’s fantastic in bed—”

“Spare me,” Levi groans.

“...but he’s just not quite short-tempered and difficult enough for my tastes,” you finish, letting your mouth quirk upward in the ghost of a smile. 

Levi’s knees bump into yours as he reaches the couch, looking down at you with his hands resting casually in his pockets. “And someone is?”

“Someone unattainable,” you concede.

Your breath hitches in your throat when Levi leans down, making a noncommittal noise as he swipes a layer of dust off of the couch’s wooden frame. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he asks, “So…you’d rather do this,” he gently thumps a fist over the pillow in your lap, “than try and approach this someone?”

Refusing to back down from his stare, you flippantly reply, “Sometimes the fantasy ends up being better than the real thing, anyway.”

Levi’s jaw ticks, and he asks you carefully in a low tone, “And just how often do you entertain this little fantasy?”

“Every night,” you breathe out, not missing a beat.

This time, when Levi leans in, his breath is hot against the shell of your ear as he murmurs, “I can assure you the fantasy pales in comparison.” 

With that, he stands up straight and heads for the door without so much as a goodbye.

Gaping, you call out, “Captain Levi?”

His hand pauses on the doorknob, and without turning to look at you, he says cooly, “My office. Now.”

“I—”

“It’s cleaner.”

—

It’s ridiculous, the way your fingers tremble as you slip your pants back on—forgoing the underwear completely this time. On the field, you wield the dual blades at your sides with a steady, focused grip and instinctual precision that once upon a time granted you a top spot in your Training Corps class. 

And yet here you are now, caught in a battle between the stubborn button of your pants and your shaking hands, your entire goddamn axis thrown off kilter by the devastatingly handsome Captain currently waiting for you a few doors down. With a sigh, you give up, tugging your shirt down and hoping for the sake of the last charred bits of your ego that you didn’t misunderstand his invitation. 

Are you really about to go and fuck Captain Levi Ackerman?

You don’t have to ponder the question long, because you’re hardly two steps inside of Levi’s office, having slipped inside the door that he left open just a crack, when you find yourself firmly pressed up against it. 

Levi’s body is warm as he cages you in, eyes boring into your own while he reaches behind you and flicks the lock shut with an abrupt click that seems to echo throughout the room. You’re both silent for a moment, and he takes half a step back.

“Are you certain you want to do this?” 

The question catches you off guard, but you nod.

Levi inhales sharply through his nose and adds, “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you exhale quickly, already feeling more than a little breathless.

He leans in, letting his fingers ghost over your chin, his breath mingling in the vicinity of yours as he warns you softly,  “I’m not a gentle lover.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” you assure him, taking no small delight in the way his eyes briefly close at your affirmation.

“...and I don’t share,” he whispers, thumb skating over your lower lip.

“Neither do I,” you challenge, though you’re well aware you’re getting far too ahead of yourself with your implied request.

“I would hope not,” Levi chuckles lowly. “From now on, you come to me and only me.”

Searing heat drips through your veins, your lips parting slightly as the full weight of his words hits you. 

Levi’s lips hover over yours, so close you can nearly taste the promise on them as he murmurs, “...and you come for me. Only. Me.”

Oh.

Toes curling, it takes every ounce of restraint inside of your body to hold back the pathetically desperate whimper vibrating through you in response. The quiet, shaky “yes” that leaves you is hardly audible over the rapid beating of your heart.

But it’s all Levi needs to hear, that last exhale, before he cups your face in both hands and slots his lips against yours. 

There’s a focused, measured precision in the way Levi kisses, a push and pull in the way his mouth both guides and chases your own. With a tease of teeth along your bottom lip and a sensual dance of his tongue along the seam of your mouth, you’re caught up in a hungry, electrifying undercurrent that leaves you dizzy on the spot. 

You’ve spent more time than you’d like to admit thinking about Levi’s mouth. The delicate curve of his cupid’s bow. That restless tongue that’s always clicking against his teeth, as if it’s just waiting to be put to use elsewhere. The prominent taste of tea you could guarantee would be lingering on his lips. 

But there’s one thing you hadn’t accounted for, one thing that knocks the air from your lungs.

—it’s the way Levi murmurs your name into the kiss, the curve of each letter so sensual, his voice so rough that you know the memory of it is already irrevocably seared into your mind. 

You let yourself tangle your fingers in the silken, black strands of his hair, earning a pleased, rumbling groan in his throat in response. Pushing your luck, you tug on the locks, and the hot trail of kisses Levi’s blazing along your exposed neck is interrupted by the soft growl that leaves his throat as he bites down on your sensitive skin and begins to suck. 

The firm, solid pressure of his body against yours as you arch into him leaves you keening, and his hands drift down to grasp your hips while he presses hungry, open-mouthed kisses to your chest, as low as your partially-unbuttoned shirt will allow. You rock your hips into him, already drunk on his scalding, attentive touch, and a small moan escapes your lips when you feel the rock hard evidence of his own arousal drag against the apex of your thighs.

“Levi,” you pant out, rolling your hips once more.

He groans languidly, bringing his lips back up to yours for a chaste kiss. Fingertips skating beneath your chin, gray eyes bore into your own as he asks, “Safe word?”

Mind blanking for a moment, every single word you’ve ever known ceases to exist in the heady, addictive presence of the man before you. Your eyes land on something sitting on his desk; it’s broken to pieces but still unmistakable. 

“Pencil.”

Levi huffs out a low laugh, staring at you a little incredulously before he intones, “Tch. Fine.”

At that, he lets his hand trail down between your legs, another amused sound leaving him when he realizes you didn’t bother buttoning your pants back up before slinking into his office. 

“Eager?” he questions, only to let out a near feral noise when he notices your underwear also didn’t come along for the trip. 

All you can do is whine as he slides his hand into your pants, no small amount of satisfaction gracing his features when he feels the damp pool of arousal that’s since soaked through the material. 

“I hope this was all for me,” he observes, sliding two fingers through your slick, sensitive folds. 

You shiver, pushing into his touch, afraid that you might collapse if he doesn’t start sliding those thin, dexterous digits into your aching cunt soon. 

“You know it is,” you pant.

Your legs quake when he brushes his thumb over your swollen clit, fingertips teasing at your fluttering entrance. 

“I wonder if that’s why you couldn’t come for him,” he muses, bringing his hand up to eye level and watching the way your sticky arousal hangs between the digits. You’d whine at the loss of contact, if it weren’t for the way he sticks his fingers in his mouth and licks them clean.

His hand trails back down to your wet heat as you try to remember how to breathe, his gaze heavy as plunges two fingers into your cunt and rasps, “Because you wished it was my cock inside of you, fucking you stupid.”

Levi doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to pump his fingers in and out of your needy hole, each thrust punctuated by the wet squelch of your gratuitous arousal. Heat spreads under your skin under his thorough exploration of your narrow, saturated channel, digits curling to meticulously stroke a spot that has you gasping his name. Your fingertips dig into his collarbone, and Levi surges forward, lips crashing into yours as he swallows your pleading moans. And for what may very well be the first time in your life, your climax takes you entirely by surprise, liquid fire whipping through your insides with the force of a raging gale.

He nips at your bottom lip while you come down from your shuddering wave of pleasure, but your fingers have barely begun to reach for his stiff length when Levi suddenly drops down to his knees in front of you. Nails dragging along your hip bones, he swiftly tugs down your pants and tosses them aside before pushing your legs further apart and burying his face between them.

Prickles of overstimulation crawl up your spine, and you let out a small sound of protest, but your core immediately turns molten again at Levi’s ragged tone as he breathes out, “One more. One more before I fuck you.”

There’s nothing calculated about the messy, hungry way he goes down on you, parting your folds to sink his tongue into your cunt, nose pressed firmly against your clit, a moan reverberating through him as he laps up every last drop of the cum that’s leaking out of you. His fingertips dig into your thighs, saliva running down his chin, and he moves to slide two fingers back inside of you while he begins to mouth at your sensitive bundle of nerves

At this point, even if Levi hadn’t made it explicitly clear that whatever this is between the two of you is very much exclusive—

…you’re not sure if anyone else could even come close. 

Reality trumps the fantasy, indeed, Captain. 

And with a firm crook of his fingers, the steaming pressure building up inside of you bursts, clear liquid spraying from your pussy and soaking Levi’s face and hand as you ride out your second orgasm.

If you thought Levi looked feral before, it’s nothing compared to the look that crosses his face as you squirt for him. “Oh fuck.”

He all but drags you over to his desk, unceremoniously swiping everything off of the surface and letting it all clatter to the floor before lifting you up—with strength that honestly shouldn’t surprise you—and placing you on its surface. Fingers aching to touch him, you grapple with his shirt, pulling it over his head while he trails his way down the remaining buttons on yours. You hardly have time to enjoy the planes of his bare chest before you, because he makes quick work of your bra, cursing under his breath at the sight and wasting no time in leaning in to taste your supple breasts. 

A small part of you almost wants to make a comment about dirtying Levi’s clean desk with the arousal you know is dripping out of you once more—you’re so fucking wet for him it’s boredline ridiculous—but all thoughts go fizzling from your mind when he latches onto your nipple and begins to suck.

“Fucking perfect,” he grunts, teeth grazing the sensitive bud. 

Unable to wait any longer to finally see what’s straining for release between his legs, you unbutton his pants, humming in satisfaction at the feeling of his deceivingly thick cock throbbing in your palm. Saliva coats your tits as he sucks more fervently in response to the way you’ve begun to stroke his length, your other hand tangling in his hair.

“Stop.”

You freeze at the command in his tone, waiting as he pushes down his pants and underwear, kicking them out of the way before stepping closer between your legs. 

“Next time,” he amends gently, leaning in to graze his teeth along the shell of your ear, lips and tongue pressing into the tender skin behind your earlobe. “Because I might very well lose my mind if I don’t fuck you right now.”

You exhale, muscles aching with anticipation. “Please, Levi.”

He pushes your thighs apart, swiping his fingers through your arousal and using it to coat his shaft before notching its reddened, leaking head at your entrance. And remembering your earlier words about just how you like it, there’s no warning when Levi plunges his throbbing cock into your slick, wet cunt, plastering his mouth onto yours to swallow down each delicious moan that echoes out of you as he splits you open.

There’s nothing gentle about the way Levi fucks you, sweaty hair plastered against his forehead as he revels in the warmth of your tight cunt with each snap of his hips, every thrust deeper than the last. The push and drag of his fat cock has you whining and moaning so loud your throat begins to burn, satisfaction curling in your gut at the mirroring sound that leaves him when you roughly pull on his hair.

Belatedly—too distracted by your lust-fuelled frenzy—you realize that smacking flesh and needy, desperate noises aren’t the only sounds echoing throughout the room. With each punishing snap of his hips, as Levi stuffs you full of his cock over and over, his desk violently smacks into the wall.

The wall that Flore is very likely currently sitting on the other side of at his own desk.

You tell Levi as much, and he makes no effort to slow down as he growls, “I don’t fucking care.”

And well, maybe it’s a little fucked up.

But given that the object of years worth of your wet dreams is currently balls deep inside of you and groaning your name repeatedly, you can’t bring yourself to give a shit, either.

So instead, you whimper, “Harder, Levi. Please.”

Hands trail along your throat, and Levi meets your gaze. You nod, and he tightens his grip, your dwindling airflow setting your nerves alight with pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waist, the balls of your feet pressing into the small of his back, and as he continues to choke you, your tight cunt chokes the width of his cock in equal measure.

It feels so fucking good that tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and your chest aches from the heaving, panting breaths you repeatedly continue to demand of it. The pressure on your throat lessens, and you feel Levi’s hand come up to cup your chin, his thumb pulling down on your bottom lip.

Though it’s only one word, you know he feels just as wrecked as you by his low, rough tone as rasps, “Open.”

You part your lips, and Levi leans in, spitting in your mouth. He feels the way your cunt clenches down on him in response, so after you swallow, unconsciously letting your lips fall back open, he spits again. 

In turn, you grab him by the hair and pull him in for a filthy kiss. Levi’s mouth devours yours as he grabs you by the throat again, moaning against your lips, “Good girl.”

The ache between your thighs blooms red hot, the coil of pleasure twisting in your gut unfurling so rapidly your vision goes white as you come hard, gushing around the stretch of Levi’s cock. He chases your lips as you throw your head back in pleasure, kissing you hard while he drives his length deep into you one last time to the hilt, hips jerking as he empties himself inside of you.

You let your body fall against his as you both come down from your climaxes, breathing heavily. Levi begins to rub soothing circles against your back, callused fingertips skating across your smooth skin, the gesture an amusingly stark contrast to how brazenly he just fucked you. When he pulls out of you, thick cum leaks from between your thighs, making a mess of his desk. 

And for once, it’s a mess that Levi Ackerman doesn’t mind.

Instead, he cups your cheek in one hand, a glint in his eyes as he murmurs, “I think I can get four out of you next time.”

Your eyes widen, laughter bubbling up in your chest as you lean in, lips ghosting over his as you retort, “Cocky bastard.”

Tongue clicking against his teeth, he rolls his eyes and mutters, “Brat,” kissing you again.

— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!

blipped: before the snap

title: blipped: before the snap pairing: brother’s best friend!yoongi x female reader genre: major angst !!, fluff, brother’s best friend au, unrequited love, set in the marvel cinematic universe (mcu), slow burn?, implied age gap, heavy themes, the blip is kinda fucked up if u think abt it, brother!namjoon, bestfriend!taehyung warnings: manipulative and abusive mom, family issues, y/n has a careless one night stand, mentions of death and funeral, no smut for this part yet, this part is a bit boring i'm really sorry. disclaimer: you can read this without knowing anything marvel at all. word count: 19k a/n: thank you so much for 100 notes on the preview and for 200+ followers T.T i'm crying. let me know if i should continue this because the reason this took so long was bc i'm anxious that it is not at all entertaining lol. i'm not finished with part 2 yet it's only at roughly 10k words rn. let me know what you want to see in part 2 if you're interested.

index > part 2

For as long as you know, it’s always just been you and Namjoon. 

Your parents were divorced, your mother a drunk, and your father a classic no-show. It didn’t really bother you that much, you always say. Although you didn’t mean it, you pretend you do. Not only for yourself but also for your brother. Your brother, the one having to work two jobs since a teenager. Your brother, who learned how to braid your hair when you were little because your mom never bothered to teach you. Your brother, who cried when he learned you were picked on in preschool. Your brother, who helped you with your math when your teacher gave you a D. Your brother, who drove you to sleepovers. Your brother, who scolded you when you had your first alcohol with your friends in high school, who, the next week, brought you liquor to teach you how to drink properly, saying that if you wanted to learn to drink, better that it’d be with his guidance so he knows that you will always be safe. 

Your brother, who was your best friend, your mother, and your father. 

That’s why with you, always comes Namjoon, and with Namjoon always comes Min Yoongi. 

Namjoon met Yoongi when they were in college. Being broke college students, they agreed to become roommates. Eventually, they became best friends. Platonic soulmates, the people in their university always say. They were good people with good hearts. Many were envious of their bond. Including you. You were never really good with people. While you do have your own friends, you never really had someone you can call your best friend except for your brother. You never told him this; you didn’t have to. He never made you feel alone. He even introduced you to Yoongi and the boy treated you absolutely well. At first, you doubted your friendship with Yoongi. You always thought you were just a liability—something that came as a plus-one with Namjoon that he can’t really shake off. 

But even if that thought always creeps at the back of your head, you have always had a crush on the charismatic man with the gummy smile. It was just a harmless admiration at first. And to be honest, you never really knew how you liked him in that way. With Yoongi being away from his family, he would always say that Namjoon is his brother, and you, his own little sister. And it would hurt you every time. 

It was your senior year in high school. You were in a tight little black dress, you thought it looked better on you than it collecting dust in your mother’s closet. Your friends had invited you to a house party of some football player. Namjoon didn’t like you going to parties without him knowing even if he was more than an hour away in college. And you, in your angsty teenage years, that bothered you. You wanted to not be treated like a child anymore. So you went to the party and pulled out an outfit you normally wouldn’t wear even at a party like this. 

Somehow, you think that this would convince you that you are no longer a child. But being a child, mistakes are to be made. And you made a lot of mistakes that night.

“Y/N, you look amazing!” Your friend, Sana, screeched as soon as you entered with Mina, another friend of yours who gave you a ride. “How come you never dress like this? you look stunning!” 

“Yeah, that’s what I told her too.” Mina agrees, hugging her after you.

You roll your eyes and wave a hand. “Yeah, yeah, you guys look amazing too. Where are the drinks?” 

Sana points to the kitchen. “They’re in the kitc– Oh!” She is suddenly interrupted when her boyfriend, Seojoon, hugs her from behind. “Hey, baby. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” And just like that, she bids the two of you goodbye. 

“Ugh, I hate lovers.” Mina groans and fakes a vomit. 

You laugh and point out the irony of her words. “Says the same person who’s looking to get laid tonight.” You tease as the both of you head to the kitchen to get some drinks in your system. 

“And as you should too, you bitch! If you would stop pining at your brother’s hot best friend, you would see how many guys actually have a crush on you here.” 

“Hold on, I’m not yet drunk enough for this conversation.” You hold up a hand.

The unpleasant taste of alcohol flows down your tongue as you tilt your head back and gulp down the rest of your drink.

“Okay, go.” You allow her to continue while refilling your cup.

“I’m just saying, maybe if you eliminate Yoongi from your options, you would actually get to move on from him, you know?” 

While actually considering her suggestion, you sigh. “It’s not that easy, Mina.” 

As you tell her that, you notice her eyes drifting away from you. With this, you already know that she found her target for the night. 

“Well, Y/N, it could be just for tonight. We’re seniors, yeah? Would you please enjoy yourself?” She says genuinely while holding both of your cheeks. 

“Fine, fine, go.” You tell her because you know she wants to approach the guy she saw.

“No. No. I’m not leaving you alone if you’re just going to sulk here.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest.

“I’m fine! Just go! He’s looking at you already.” You push her. Mina groans and she kisses your cheek, grabbing her cup and heading away.

“Text me if you wanna go home and I’ll come and get you, okay?” 

“I will. I will.” You assure her, waving your hand for her to go.

As you were left alone, watching people you have classes with play beer pong, your friend’s words lingered. 

You came here tonight to be different. You weren’t Y/N who was worried about getting a scholarship to university. You weren’t Y/N who didn’t have loving parents. You weren’t Y/N who had a brother that would be angry when he knows you are at a party he doesn’t know. 

You weren’t Y/N who was hopelessly in love with her brother’s best friend, Min Yoongi. 

“It’s just for tonight.” You tell yourself as you down your cup again. 

And that probably is why, at 3 o’clock in the middle of the dark morning, you find yourself on Choi Wooshik’s bed. 

The said man was asleep beside you. A pang of pain hits your head when you open your eyes which indicates you drank more than usual. Despite having been in the influence, you still remember hooking up with the guy in the same year—and now bed—as you. 

“Y/N, you stupid shit.” You whisper to yourself.

It was the first time you had a one-night stand. You weren’t a virgin–no, that happened when you were 16 and you brought home your boyfriend that Namjoon didn’t know about. The relationship lasted for five months, which came to a halt after your sex. You didn’t really mind. You never liked him anyway. But it did hurt to be used. But this was completely different. Your mind went into a spiral. 

Did we use a condom? Oh my god, what if I get pregnant? I’m not ready to be a mother. I have a scholarship. What would happen to college? 

Gosh, what would Namjoon say if I get pregnant? He’s gonna kill me. He’s gonna have to take care of me and the baby and I would be more of a burden. What would Yoongi think of you then? You will be a bad mother.

With tears practically prodding out of your eyes, you dress up and look for used contraception in the trash can—which you did not see, making you panic more. You wanted to call Namjoon to come to pick you up. 

But you got scared. You know he has an exam coming up in Taxation, which you know is a difficult course because he has been studying for it for weeks. And plus, you were scared of his reaction to your recklessness.

You thought of Mina. You could call her and ask for help. Maybe she hasn’t gone home. You scramble to look for your phone and when you did, you mentally curse. 

Oh fuck, your phone is dead. 

Wooshik’s phone, however, sits at the bedside table ready for you to use. You go through his contacts and find Mina’s name. You cuss after realizing it wasn’t there.

The problem is that you only have Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s contact memorized. There could probably be another option but you weren’t really thinking straight.

Before you knew it, you were dialing Yoongi outside of the house of Wooshik. He answers in five seconds.

“Yoongi?” You call in a whisper.

“Y/N? God, it’s like three in the morning. What’s up?”

He sounds like he just woke up, voice groggy and worried, maybe a bit annoyed too. You know he doesn’t like his sleep interrupted.

You don’t know if he heard your sobs but he probably did when his voice turns to pure worry. “Bub? What’s wrong?” He asks again when you don’t answer, using that damned nickname for you. 

“Y-yoongi– I–... please don’t tell Joonie.” You sob. 

“Where are you, Y/N?” He asks, sternly this time, sounding fully awake unlike a few seconds ago. 

You tell him what happened and he listens carefully. He didn’t say much, only asked you where you were, and said he would come to pick you up. You told him to come and pick you up at the 24-hour diner where you and Joon are regulars which eventually, Joon brought Yoongi whenever they would visit. 

Mrs. Park, a woman who worked there, gave you chocolate chip pancakes as soon as she saw you. It was your favorite breakfast. Namjoon, on the other hand, likes blueberry pancakes.

“Bad night?” She asks when she places down the pancakes. 

You nod sadly and give her a small smile. “Please don’t tell Joon about this.” You sigh. 

She shakes her head. “I won’t if you eventually do.” She tells you in a scolding tone. You chuckle and nod, not really sure if you were telling the truth.

Forty-five minutes later, Yoongi arrives. He’s wearing a hoodie and zip-up jacket over it. He looks around the diner and finds you. Your eyes meet, and you could see a little bit of frustration when he spots you. 

“What are you wearing?” He asks when he sits down in front of you in the booth. You sigh and look away. 

“What? You don’t like it?” You ask, voice down and tired to make the joke. You play with your pancakes. 

“It’s just… not your style.” He actually answers. 

He sighs. “Finish that and then drink this.” He puts down a small brown bag beside your plate. 

You were still chewing your food when you asked. “What’s this?” You open the bag and see a pack of a pill inside. 

“It’s a Plan B pill. You asked for it.” He tells you and takes off his zip up jacket. “And wear this.” He hands you the thick clothing, which you wear immediately, wanting to bask in warmness instead of the cold your revealing dress gave. 

“Hey, Yoongi. Came to take care of this brat?” Mrs. Park joked as she came to greet Yoongi, a hand on her hip. Yoongi nods. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Park.” He smiles. 

“Anything I can get for you? Pancakes? Waffle?” She asks. 

“Maybe a hashbrown and an Americano? I’m not really hungry yet. Thank you, Mrs. Park.” He answers and she replies she got it and walks away.

It was quiet after that. The both of you ate your food in silence. After you finished your pancake, you drank the pill. 

“Are you mad at me, Yoongi?” You ask him, fiddling with your fingers.

He shakes his head. “What’s with you? You don’t act recklessly like this Y/N. And doesn’t Joon know whenever you’re at a party?” 

Tears well up in your eyes again. “I-I don’t know.” You answer, head down as you stare and play with your pancakes. “I just wanted to breathe.” You mutter to yourself. You don’t know if Yoongi heard it. Even if he did, he didn’t answer.

Yoongi drove you to your mom’s house after. “Go inside.” He said. It was almost 5 in the morning, it didn’t really matter because your mom never stayed up to wait for you anyway. Hell, she probably doesn’t even know that you were out. 

You nod and remove your seatbelt. “Do you wanna come in?” You ask him. 

He shakes his head. “I need to get home before Namjoon wakes up.” 

You nod. “Alright.” You were about to open the car door when you hesitated and looked at Yoongi again. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You told him. “I mean it. I’m sorry that I’m such a burden to you because you’re friends with Joon.”

His brows furrowed. “What?” He looks straight into your eye.

“I mean, I know I’m just this immature and  annoying kid that comes with Namjoon as a package deal so–”

“No, no– stop. Who said you were a burden to me?” Yoongi asks seriously. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. “You were never a burden to me, Y/N. You’re a friend.” Friend, well that’s a different one–you think. 

“Even if Namjoon doesn’t exist, I would gladly be your friend. Or your older bro.” And there it is. Your heart ached once again. You are nothing but a little sister. 

You chuckle a little, trying to distract him from the tears trying to form in your eyes again. “Y-yeah. Drive safe, Yoongi.” You say as you jump off his car, leaving Yoongi wondering what he said wrong.

High school graduation. Like Namjoon, you graduated with high honors. The both of them stood there, clapping as you received your diploma. Joon was crying like the idiot you expected him to be while Yoongi held a digital camera, filming you with a gummy smile on his face.

“Okay, look here.” Yoongi holds his camera while you hold the bouquet they brought you. Namjoon is by your side, smiling proudly. “Say cheese!” Yoongi says as he clicks the picture. 

“Right, me next! Me next!” Yoongi says as he hands the camera to Namjoon. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you closer. You blush as you feel the warmth of his body in his closeness.

“Okay. One, two, three.” Joon takes the picture. You feel yourself finally able to breathe again when Yoongi lets go of you. Then, you asked one of your friends to take a picture of the three of you. 

“They look like your gay dads.” One of your friends that saw the whole ordeal says, which the three of you laugh at.

“Well, we are a family.” Namjoon agrees to which Yoongi nodded and flashed his gummy smile at you. “Yeah, my sibling roomies soon.” 

And you smile. Yoongi is family.

“Come on, we have a reservation.”

The dress you’ve put on would definitely be one of your favorites. It isn’t really in your character to like formal dresses but the memories of this one would definitely be the reason. Albeit, you do look more beautiful in it. 

You laugh when Namjoon’s piece of steak flies off his plate, he’s always been the clumsy guy you know. He had declared the night to be your family dinner coming straight from the graduation. He wanted to throw a party but you refused, opting to go for a sweet formal dinner with him and Yoongi instead.

The dinner went wonderfully. The 5-course meal was something the three of you weren’t used to but it was something nice to treat yourselves once in a while. After the meal was over, the three of you went back to your house. Namjoon and Yoongi agreed to stay the night so they can help you move your things to the three of you’s freshly bought apartment tomorrow.

That night, you find yourself sitting on the porch of your house. Your mom didn’t even greet you, she just gave you a scoff when you entered in a beautiful dress she haven’t seen before with Namjoon and Yoongi who were wearing their suits and ties. Even if you said you didn’t mind, you actually do. 

As usual, when your brother is here, your mom doesn’t even go out of her room. She stays inside and avoids your brother the rest of the time. When she doesn’t do this, it always ends up with them shouting at each other. And since they know it’s a special occasion, you know they’re just being civil with each other for you. 

The moon looked bright today, you observed. The chilling wind of the night somehow seeps through the material thin jacket, but it helps lessen it. You rub your arms with your hands and sigh. You’re finally leaving home. It should’ve been the moment you turned eighteen like Namjoon did or the moment Namjoon told you he was stable enough to take you in. Yet you told him that it’d be better to just move after high school since it’s just a few months anyway. 

It was an excuse. 

As much as you hate it, you love your mother. She isn’t a good mother. Hell. She wasn’t even a good person either. You don’t like her, not most of the time. Not when she sold your earrings that Namjoon got you on his first paycheck to pay for her vices. Not when she ruined the project that you worked on for three days straight and when she accidentally stepped on it. She said sorry but laughed. She laughed and walked away. But even with memories like that, you know that you love her. You only get one mother and unfortunately for you, that’s her. 

You’re not sad that you’re leaving her. No. But you sure as hell isn’t happy either. You don’t understand it because all your life, all you’ve wanted to do is to leave this hell and be with Namjoon. It’s as if you’ve actually found comfort in something that you hate. You don’t understand why you’re feeling this anxiety, which is why you’re now sitting outside the house that you grew up in, looking up at the sky in the middle of the cold night. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You turn when you hear Yoongi’s voice from behind. You notice that he was holding your favorite mug and had borrowed some of Joon’s old lounge clothes. The old Attack on Titan shirt was a bit too big for him as Joon is taller. He also wears Joon’s old sweatpants from high school. 

“Hi, Yoongs.” You give him a weak smile. 

“It’s cold out here, Y/N.” He says but you shrug, scooting over and tapping the space beside you. He sighs but still sits anyway. He hands you the mug he holds which you accept with a quick thanks. 

Now, you stare at the grass in front of you, holding the warm mug of hot chocolate with two hands. The front yard is a mess, weeds were growing all over and you stopped caring about it looking nice a long time ago. It was the tip of the iceberg for people outside the house. 

You sit there for a few moments in comfortable silence. “Yoongi, can I ask you something?” You don’t look at him but you see from your peripheral vision that he shifts his eyes from in front of you to you. He nods. 

You bit your lip before finally asking. “Does life get better after high school?” 

He chuckles lightly. “Post-graduation depression?” 

You pout at his teasing tone. “Shut up.” But you sigh. “I guess that’s one of them.”

He nods and stares back at the nothingness in front of you. “Honestly, it probably doesn’t get better. Life has been and always will be a big piece of shit.” 

You laugh at his honesty. “I think that all those talks about peaking in high school are bullshit.” He continues. “It doesn’t matter if you were a nerd or were Regina George in high school. Those people saying that are either stuck in high school or are bitter about their high school experience.” 

“It’s all about how you adapt to change. Life is constantly changing. You get thrown from one place to another before you even know it. Most of the time, it sucks. But what are we supposed to do? We can’t stay in comfort in one place forever. If you get stuck, you lose.” He shrugs, leaning on his palms and staring up at the sky.

“But what if I can’t adapt at all?” You look at him, watching his beautiful face gleam in the moonlight. His eyes were sparkling, plush pink lips forming a small warm smile when he heard your words.

“That’s impossible.” He claimed. He sounded so sure of his answer that it almost irritated you. How can he be so sure that he believes so much in you? 

“How is that impossible? I always fuck up, Yoongs. I’m a fuck up.” You spat. 

“Hey.” He sits up straight and deadpans. “You are not a fuck up.” 

You let out a huff and look away from him. “Yeah, right.” 

The silence after that was loud. Yoongi had decided not to press on the topic any longer, you noticed. Not because he agrees with you, but because he knows it’s not gonna help you even if he does argue about it.

“You’re not your mother.” 

At the mention of your mother, you can’t hide your surprise as you whip your head to look at him.

“And it’s okay to move on from here, Y/N.” He assures you. Before you know it, tears are pooling in your eyes. They fall one by one as you stare at your brother’s best friend. “Your home could be not this. It doesn’t have to be her. And it definitely does not make you who you are.” 

Before contemplating your actions, you find yourself lunging at Yoongi for an embrace. He lets out a quiet yelp when you catch him by surprise.

“I’m scared.” You confess and wet his shirt with your silent tears. He laughs a little and places the mug in your one hand on the ground. After he does this, he uses both his arms to embrace you, body no longer stiff and melting with yours. 

“I know, Y/N. I know.” 

And you think to yourself, why does he make it hard for you to not like him?

That same picture you took during graduation is framed at your shared three-bedroom apartment with the two older boys. With Yoongi and Namjoon being six years older than you, they were already done with their studies when you were a freshman in college. They both had their own stable jobs. Namjoon was recently hired as a junior accountant. While Yoongi had a job in Advertising. And you... you had a part-time job at a convenience store near your apartment. It was the only job Namjoon allowed you to do. You wanted to help with the rent, but Yoongi and Namjoon would always tell you to just focus on your studies, arguing that they both earn enough for the three of you. It would make you laugh and tell them how they really both act like your gay parents.

With Yoongi closer than ever, you didn’t know how you could ever move on. Not when he’s an arm's length away. Not when he looks so good in the morning when he just woke up and cooked breakfast for you. Not when he places a blanket over you on the couch when you three have your movie nights. Not when the three of you have your general cleaning day, and the music blasts as he raps his lungs out with Namjoon. Not when you see every side of him—and every side of him is beautiful to you. 

He looks exceptionally beautiful when he cooks. Namjoon would be out till late at night. You were doing your school work in the living room on your laptop when Yoongi set down a plate of some kind of ham sandwich on the coffee table.

You mockingly gasp in surprise. “Did you make me a snack?” 

He rolls your eyes. “You’re welcome. Eat it.” He says and plops down on the couch next to you. 

It took some getting used to. It was new to find the place you’re living in to always be clean or not reek of alcohol. You always have good freshly made food. Yoongi always likes to clean the place, even shouting at Namjoon from time to time because as much as a responsible man your brother is, he is clumsy and messy. Just a few days ago, Yoongi threw his boxers at his face while he was sleeping because he found them on the bathroom floor. Namjoon argued he probably dropped it on the way out of the shower. You found out that Yoongi really likes doing domestic things. He likes cleaning, cooking, and architecture-related things. He knows a lot about fixing. You know because he was the one who built and fixed the furniture you got from IKEA. And he’s also the one you call when something needs fixing. You wonder if he just learned it by fixing all of the shit Namjoon destroys over the years with him or is it a trait that has always been with him from his family home.

Out of all the things he does for you and your brother, cooking has to be your favorite. Yoongi loves cooking meat and especially steak. It’s a rare occurrence because steak is not the cheapest meal to have but it’s always a delight when the three of you have it for dinner.

Yoongi puts his whole heart into cooking. You asked him why he chose not to do it for a living instead and he said that cooking is a thing he does for people he cares about and he’d rather not do it for money.

You quickly realize that one of Yoongi’s love languages is acts of service. He cooks and cleans for the three of you. He always has time for the people he cares about. He watches the 2005 film version of Pride and Prejudice with you even if you have seen it at least twenty times with him. He drives and picks you up from school when he can. But most importantly, you find comfort that Yoongi doesn’t only take care of you, but also your brother. 

You realize that even though Yoongi may never return your affection, he cares for you nonetheless. 

And you quickly find yourself at home in both of their presence. 

“What got you smiling like that? I find it hard to believe statistics is making you happy.” 

Suddenly, a throw pillow on the couch is flying to his face. From you, of course.

“Hey, I cook for you and this is how you repay me?” He complains, fists on each side of his waist. You giggle at his childish action. 

“You and your brother are ungrateful imbeciles.” He huffs. 

“Y/N? We brought you dinner.” You snap out of your studying in the living room when Namjoon opens the door. They’ve been out for a few hours to play bowling with a few of their friends from college. Yoongi follows from behind him, which did not surprise you. Wherever Namjoon goes, Yoongi follows. But what—who, rather— follows Yoongi is the one that surprised you. 

A pretty, petite brunette girl comes in, smiling at you. “Hey.” You greet them, blocking a million thoughts running inside your head. “Still studying?” Joon asked, but your eyes were still on the girl by the doorway. “Oh, this is Jieun. Yoongi will drive her to her house in a while.” 

Yoongi will drive her home? Why? Who is she to him? Is she her girlfriend? Why didn’t he tell me? Maybe he’s just courting her. Does he like her?

“Oh.” You smile at her. “Hi. I’m Y/N. Joon’s sister.” They come in entirely. “I heard so much about you, Y/N.” She said as she sat on the couch across from where you sat on the floor. You close your books and stretch. “Good things, I hope.” You say, eyeing the two men who were setting the table.

She winks. “Oh, those boys wouldn’t tell a story without you.” You laugh and stand up, walking to sit beside her. “So, how’d you meet those doofuses?” She shrugs. “Oh, I'm Yoongi's friend from college but I work with Namjoon.” 

So she knows Yoongi first. They’re close. And if there’s one Yoongi you don’t know, it was college student Yoongi. You wonder what he looked like carrying his books and studying. Did he party and hooked up with girls a lot? You didn’t know. You haven’t lived with them then.

“Alright. Let’s eat.” Yoongi calls the two of you from the dining table. 

That night, you feel like you watch the three of them from the sideline. They told stories when they were in university. Every now and then, they give you advice about college. As you stare at them and listen, you realize that no matter how much you know Yoongi and Namjoon, you will never be at their level. Not like Jieun, who glows with maturity and class. This is what Yoongi likes, you think. Not a freshman in college who can’t get her shit together.

With heavy words running through your mind, you fall asleep with an aching heart.

You should have seen it coming. 

There must be something wrong with you, you think. Why do you only realize the truth when it hurts you? You used to brush off your feelings for Yoongi. Well, you know it’s there but you don’t really make a big deal out of it. So why is it that when you heard the words from Yoongi’s mouth, your heart sank so deep it almost felt like you were going to choke? 

“Ji-eun and I are going on a date tonight.”

He was all dressed up. Leather jacket, white tee and leather pants. He looked like the rock star of your dreams. He was putting on his shoes by the door while you and your brother ate your meal.

“Text me if you’re going home tonight.” Namjoon teases, which makes you look down on your food.

You were feeling so weird inside that you wanted to throw up. You want to scream and throw things around. You were angry at yourself. Why were you feeling this way? You always knew this day would come. You’ve been expecting–readying yourself for this. Nonetheless, it still hurts. More than you ever thought it would. 

Jieun and him were a cute couple. He probably gave her his gummy smile when he asked her on a date, or his nervous smile—it didn’t matter. He really doesn’t like you. And you have been telling yourself that since high school. So why did it hurt so much?

It was at the same time that you met Taehyung. He’s your upperclassman in college, only a year older than you. You gave in to his pleas of becoming your friend when he started to constantly annoy you the moment you caught his eye. 

The loud noise of the university cafeteria is blocked out by your earphones as you sit down on a chair. You fished out the lunch box from your bag and gently placed it on the table. When you remove the lid, a smile immediately flashes from your face.

Yoongi’s cooking has always been amazing. Ever since you complained to him and Namjoon that you had a stomach ache when you ate lunch at the school cafeteria, Yoongi had forced you to take lunch boxes from him. When you argued that you may have just over-ate that day or that you’ll just eat lunch outside of the campus, he forcefully took your backpack and shoved the lunchbox in your bag before sprinting out of the apartment to get to work.

You admire the food first. Sometimes, Yoongi would make faces with them, something he learned from Tiktok, which you always laugh at. Today was an octopus sausage, your favorite. You smile and put one in your mouth. 

“Wow. That looks so good.” You look up when a metal tray of food slams in front of you. Kim Taehyung stands there, adorably smiling at you. 

You look at him suspiciously. You had never spoken a word to the man in front of you. He was a year older pursuing the same major as you. He’s hot, popular, and you heard of his… promiscuous adventures. “Do you need anything?”

He sits in front of you. “I just wanted to say your presentation to Mr. Byun’s class was amazing.”

It seemed like a genuine compliment so you nod and smile at your upperclassman. “Thank you.” And resumed eating your food.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He asks before chomping on his broccoli. You nod. 

“I’m Kim Taehyung.” He says with his mouth full.

And that was the first time you actually spoke. Ever since then, Kim Taehyung would eat with you when spots you at the cafeteria, wave dramatically when he’s walking and sees you, and he would even give you a ride on his motorcycle to your home. And on an annoyingly bad day, you blew it. He was okay, but you didn’t know what his intentions were which made you uneasy with him.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong, Y/N.” He pouts and you can hear his feet stomping beneath the table.

“I said nothing’s wrong.” You say coldly while eating your meal.

“There is! I can totally feel the vibe from the other side of the campus. Just tell me and I’ll see how I can help.” He flashes his pleading eyes with you, placing his chin on his hands.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you already friends with like, the whole campus? Why do you keep annoying me? What’s your motive here?” You ask him, gently pushing his face away from your food in the cafeteria.

His smile drops, eyes deadpanned set on you. “I’m not here to become your friend, Y/N.” 

You stare at him, awed at the sudden change of atmosphere.

“I’m here to become your best friend.” He grins, eyes determined.

You scoff at his perseverance. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“And so are you! You scared off one of your classmates today because of your gloominess. You literally look like sadness AND anger from Inside Out right now.” 

Your mouth drops. “I look like who now?”

He giggles awkwardly, his seat slowly backing away from you. “I-I mean in a very cute way, you know? And sadness IS cute.”

You glare at him for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the utensil from your hand. “Okay, so…” You take a deep breath.

“There’s something bothering me lately.” You say.

“I knew it! Tell me. I won’t tell a motherfucking soul.” He scoots closer again then pressed his index and thumb finger together, acting like zipping his lips.

“I have a friend.” You sigh and begin. “She knows this older guy who has been like her friend since she was in high school.” You tell the story as Taehyung nods and listens attentively. “And she has had a crush on him since, like,  forever. Which she thought was just a silly little crush. And she was okay with that since she knows it’s impossible since he only sees her as a little sister anyway. But he recently got a girlfriend and suddenly she’s heartbroken. Like, crying every night heartbroken.” 

Taehyung was grinning by the end of it. “Yoongi’s dating?”

“W-what? It’s not Yoongi.” You stutter, looking away from him. “Y/N, I’ve known since like, the day he fetched you. You literally had heart eyes whenever you look at him.” 

You hit him lightly on the arm then sigh. “Fine. Yes, it’s him.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t really know what to say. All I know is that Y/N, you’re an amazing woman. I know this because I have heard like ten people say they have a crush on you on this campus. Men AND women.” Your eyes widen at the information he just drops on you so you try and ask more but his next words stop you.

”Yoongi is someone who won’t just disappear in your life.” He says softly.

Then his eyes harden, grinning wide and he slams a hand on the table. “So I say fuck it and seduce him.” 

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

You first brought him home a month after Yoongi announced his relationship with Jieun. Taehyung was helping you with a class that you were having a hard time with. It was only because you were distracted, Yoongi being one of the main reasons. But you won’t admit that to anyone, not even yourself.

“Ugh!” You groan and slam your head on the opened book. “I don’t understand. I understand it all but when the quiz comes it’s like a totally different topic!“ You complained to Taehyung who was sitting by the headboard of your bed. The relaxed guy was totally amused at your suffering, drinking the apple juice box he stole from the fridge. 

“Help me.” You pouted as you held his hand, practically pleading. You were lying beside him in the bed on your stomach, kicking at every difficult question that goes into a dead-end in your tired brain.

“I’m telling you just need to practice these questions and you will get it eventually.” He rolled his eyes. Ever the sassy bitch, Taehyung snatched his hand away from you. 

“You literally offered to teach me that’s why you’re here in my apartment.” You glare at him. “I’m literally just here to steal this juice box. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” He raised his eyebrow at you. 

Your mouth drops dramatically at his words. “Okay, that’s it.” 

The books fell off your bed with thuds when you pushed them off and straddled Taehyung, who shrieks. “Hey- what the fuck!” You begin to tickle his stomach while he laughs and trashes away from you. “You bitch, stop it!” He says in between laughs, tears in his eyes. You’ve learned that a good counterattack for Taehyung’s annoyingness is his being ticklish. 

Both of your laughs fill the air and eventually you get tired of using your strength over Taehyung’s. This gives Taehyung a chance to overpower you. He holds your fists and flips you over. You gasp at the swift motion that put you under Taehyung

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” His devilish tone puts a blush on your face, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Y/N.“

The deep familiar voice pushes both of you into a halt. Your heart sinks to your stomach when you see Yoongi standing by your doorway. His mouth was partly hanging open for a second before turning into a frown and you realize how bad the scene would look from an outsider. You quickly push your friend away, making him lose his balance and fall off the bed.

“Who’s this?” 

Taehyung quickly shuffled to his feet and walked to Yoongi who was at the door. “I’m Kim Taehyung. Y/N’s friend. You must be Yoongi.” He introduces himself brightly, offering a hand to the boy at the door. Yoongi’s gaze falls to his hand, which he does not accept. Instead, he turns his gaze to you. 

“Your brother wants you to know that he’ll be working late tonight. I’ll cook dinner in a little while.” The tone in his voice is cold, familiar to the night in senior year. You nod and reply uneasily, finding the tension weird and uncomfortable. “Okay, thank you Yoongi.” He nods, eyeing Taehyung once again, then back to you.

“Tell me if your friend will stay for dinner.” He says then shuts the door. 

“Dude, your guy is scary.” Taehyung whispers, before exaggerately shivering.

“He’s not my guy.” 

Taehyung excused himself out of dinner that night. He told you he feels like Yoongi will poison his food if he does so he’ll just get some free food elsewhere. So you gave him a light smack on the head for that.

Yoongi was quiet the whole meal, which was not unusual but you sensed something was off. The atmosphere was heavy and you felt like an invisible wall separating the two of you even if you were eating at the same table and sitting across from each other. 

“How’s Jieun?” You ask him. He didn’t answer. 

“Okay. Fine. Don’t tell me about your relationships.” You pout. “You know what, you should bring her here so I can ask her myself.” You suggest and tease at the same time. 

“We broke up.” Yoongi spoke.

You froze for a second before dropping your spoon gently back to your plate. “Oh. I-I’m sorry.” You say softly. Yoongi's eyes never faltered from his food. You watched him silently. 

“Don’t be. It just didn’t work out.” He tells you. 

“But she really liked you.” You find yourself saying. 

He shrugs. “Yeah, she did.” 

How about you? Did you really like her too?

“You know, if you want to tell me anything, you can, Yoongi. If there’s something bothering you.” You say and he nods, muttering a thank you.

And then it was silent again as you both ate.

“What about you?” You were taken aback by the question Yoongi suddenly asked.. 

You laughed awkwardly. “What are you talking about?”

“What’s going on with Taemin?” He asks again. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s Taehyung. And we’re just friends.” 

He looks at you in the eye before lightly pointing his spoon to you. “Friends don’t get caught like that in bed, Y/N.” He says before standing up with his plate and utensils. You followed him with yours too to the kitchen. He places his dishes in the sink and you do too. 

“It’s not like that. You just caught us messing around..” You sit on the kitchen counter while he starts to wash the dishes. “I mean, playing. Not that kind of messing around.”

“As long as this “playing” won’t have me buying a pill for you in the middle of the night.” Your mouth drops as he mentions your secret two years ago. You huff and cross your arms. 

“I just don’t see the big deal, Yoongi. It won’t be a something like that.” You roll your eyes at him. “I just want you to be careful.” He replies almost finished washing the dishes. 

You don’t think about your next words at all. “Well, I’m on the pill, actually. So I am being careful.” You swore you saw him freeze for a moment but recover himself in a second. Talk about TMI, Y/N.

“But I’m telling you, we’re not like that.” You repeat for the nth time. 

He stops the water running and doesn’t even look at you sitting from the kitchen counter. “And why not?” 

“Because I don’t like him like that.” And you jumped off the counter, heading back to your room, the weight of your words going unnoticed by the man you were previously speaking to. 

“Make a wish!” You exclaim as you hold the cake in front of Namjoon. The grin on his face was unerasable as he closed his eyes. After he blows it, everyone in the room hoots their cheers and claps their hands.

The party went on and on. Namjoon’s, Yoongi’s, and your friends were drinking till the end of the night. Taehyung is swaying you to the tune of the slow music, drunk off his ass. Something was wrong with him tonight and you were trying to find out what.

“Tae.” You groan as he spins you around once, his hands falling back to your waist when you turn to face him again. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you. It wasn’t a big party. If you were in a club full of people you would have let him. 

This was the first time you have ever seen Taehyung like this. He was always a sight, inducing a refreshing aura wherever he goes. 

Not tonight, though. Tonight, his eyes burn a little darker, something about the way his eyelids droop on his face. He carries himself in caution, almost like he was too aware of his surroundings. You realize that this side of Taehyung is not someone to be brought to parties. Especially something as small as this. “What’s wrong?” You finally ask him.

He shakes his head, pressing his forehead to yours. You know you shouldn’t be this close to a man where your brother is in the same room. Not that he is strict like that. It’s just that you were never someone to show a public display of affection–or just affection in general. Over time, you’ve learned that it’s better not to be as transparent as you can be. So you know why Namjoon was throwing you looks every few minutes. He’s finding the scenario odd. 

“I’m fine.” He mutters. Taehyung was the opposite. He likes being touchy. Skinship is one of his love languages. He likes giving hugs and holding hands down the hallway, arms swinging. And he does it with everyone. Taehyung is a spring sunshine that everyone adores. But not right now. Today, it’s as if the light in him has been turned off.

“I think we should head to my room and talk.” You whisper to his face. “You’re drunk.” Your thumb caresses the skin on the side of his neck, trying to soothe him to go with you. He hesitates for a while, looking around you. Nobody was paying attention to you two, but you know they were just trying not to make you uncomfortable. When he nods, you smile gently and drop your hands to hold his. You lead him back to your room. 

You sat him down on your bed while his gaze never strays from the floor. “I’m gonna get you some water. Be back in a sec.” You tell him and before you’re completely out the door, you hear him mutter okay.

No eyes were on you when you walked past the people and to the kitchen. A few people were there because that’s where most of the drinks are. You open the fridge to get your water tumbler. 

You shut the fridge door only to reveal Yoongi standing next to you, gaze hard and fuming. His silent and sudden appearance frightens you, the bottle in your hand almost slips from your hand.

“Fuck, Yoongi!” You whine, placing a hand on your chest.

“What are you doing?“ His gaze on you was hard, almost angry. He was using that one tone again. Something specific to you when you were doing something he thinks is wrong.

“Getting my tumbler?” Your words hang, unsure of what to reply. You move past him, gently pushing him off the way. 

His hand catches your wrist, preventing you from walking away. “Stop.” He commands. Your gaze falls at the hand on your wrist and then up to the man that owns it. 

“Dude, what the hell? What do you want?” You ask, tone rising in annoyance. 

“What was that out there? With Taehyung?” He scolds. Confusion and a little bit of anger rises within you, laced with the small amount of alcohol in your system. 

You snatch your hand away from his grip. “We weren’t doing anything wrong. It’s not like we’re the only ones dancing.”

You don’t understand why he was being this way. Lately, all he seems to be doing is be irritated with you. 

The two of you stare each other down, seeing who gives up first. It ends when he lets out a tired breath. 

With the way his expression changed, it looked like he still had a lot to say but decided to let it go.

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you two be quiet in your room.” And he walks away. 

You watch his back as he walks out the kitchen, confused and somehow annoyed at his actions. Why is he still treating you like a kid? You are 20 now, can’t he see you as an adult? 

There was a light clang pang of your metal water bottle when you slammed it down your kitchen counter. You catch your breath you didn’t even know you were holding. It was like that with Yoongi always. He always makes you feel like you can’t breathe but free at the same time. When you get in arguments with him, you want to wash your mouth with soap. You never want to be in a bad place with him. He matters so much to you.

When you entered your room, Taehyung was still there, still in the same position you left him. You set down your water bottle and glass on the side table. Pouring out the liquid in the glass, you ask your friend. “You can tell me what’s wrong.” 

You offer the glass of water to him, which he accepts with a small thanks. He sips a bit and sets it in his hands, elbows resting on his thighs. You sat beside him and placed a hand on his back that was slouched gently. 

“Or you can sober up first.” You pat his back. “Your choice, buddy.” 

It was silent for a while as you both sat side by side. You stare at the wall, basking in the tense silence you both created. That was until you heard the small sniffs from your friend. Barely audible sniffs that eventually turn into sobs. You feel his body shake beneath your hands and you see his hands firmly gripping the glass. 

“He…” Taehyung hands you the glass of water which you quickly set down before it breaks in his grip. He doesn’t look at you at all time, not wanting to make you see him crying. “My dad, he’s gone.” 

“Oh, Tae.” You embrace him, wrapping your arms around him. He rests his face on your shoulder as he sobs. You couldn’t help but be moved by his emotions, tearing up and you caress his back. 

You know that Taehyung was from a far province, he has a loving mother and father. He grew up well with a father who managed a factory before he got sick and bedridden. His mother, a beautiful loving housewife who had a small bakery. Financials weren’t an easy subject for them. When his father got bedridden, her mother had to cut her time in the bakery to take care of her husband and younger kids, lowering their family income more. Thankfully, his father had already set aside a bank account for Taehyung’s education before he even reached age, one that his grandparents had contributed in as well in honor of him being the first grandchild of the family. 

“Why haven’t you come home?” You asked him. You feel him shake his head. “I can’t.” He sniffs. “Because if I go then it’d be real.” 

You sigh, not knowing what to say. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” You suggest instead. “We can take the bus tomorrow morning.” 

“You’d skip classes?” He chuckles bitterly, his crying pausing as he lifts his head to be at the same head level as you. You never skip class. You laugh and roll your eyes. “I will. For you.”

“Damn. I wish I recorded that. I would show it to the whole school. The Ice Queen, will do anything for silly old me.” He jokes and sniffs, making you frown and hit his shoulder. And he finally smiles.

“Kim Y/N, you told me that you have a few days off. I didn’t know you were gonna skip classes!” Namjoon scolded you, his jaw clenching like it always does when he’s angry.

You hung your head low. Apparently, when you were gone with Taehyung, Namjoon came to know that you skipped classes when your friend in one class dropped by to give you some notes that you asked for. You should’ve asked her to send it by mail instead.

“And to do what? Hang out with this Taehyung guy?” Namjoon was fuming and you understood why. You bite your lower lip and look up at him.

“I’m sorry, Joon. I should’ve told you the truth.” You reply with a trembling voice and teary eyes.

Yoongi watches from the edge of the couch. When you came in, the two were already sitting in the living room. Namjoon was looking pissed and Yoongi just stared at you. 

So here you were, a backpack full of used clothes on the floor in front of a now fuming standing older brother.

Your brother's eyes softened when he saw how scared you were. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He sighs and picks up the backpack that you dropped. 

“It’s not about skipping. I don’t give a shit about that. You can skip all you want as long as you graduate, Y/N. It’s just that you know that I don’t like you lying to me.” He hands you your backpack which you accept.

He was right. Trust for each other is what made you two hang on up to this moment. And you shouldn’t ruin it.

“I’m sorry.” You say and nod, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “I’m sorry, Joonie.”

Your brother hugs you, his tall frame looming over yours. You wrap your arms around him. “Don’t cry. I’m sorry.. Have you eaten?” He breaks off the hug and looks down at you.

“I’ll go get a plate for you. Go clean up.”

In your room, you close the door behind you and lean your back on it. You sigh. You’re 20. You should be starting to make adult decisions. Maybe you are really just still a kid. 

When you’re done preparing yourself and making your way to the dining table, Namjoon wasn’t there. It’s just Yoongi reading a book. His ebony hair was still a bit wet from the shower he had. A few strands of dried hair falling over his brow and just above his eyeglasses. He looks up for a second to shoot you a glance before turning his attention back to his book. 

“Hey.” His sweet deep voice greets you. 

“Hey,” you reply and sit across from him. “Why are you reading here?” You ask him and pick up the utensils in front of you. 

The food looks delicious but you weren’t really that hungry. The bus ride with Taehyung was spent talking, napping, snacking, listening to music, and snacking again. Still, food at home is different. It was your favorite thing to go home to–Yoongi’s cooking.

“Joon went out to buy something.” You realize this doesn’t answer your question but you chose to ignore it with a huff.

“Did you have fun on your little trip?” He asks, still not looking up from his book. You shrug. “It was okay.” Your back rests on the chair, shoulders now slumped while playing with your food. 

“Why do you do that?” Yoongi asks again, flipping a page on his book. It takes a second for you to answer in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Why… do you never tell me things?” He asks softly and you wish you could see his eyes beneath the strands of his hair. 

You chuckled nervously, confused at the sudden heavy atmosphere. “What do you mean? I do tell you things, Yoongi.” 

The man in front of you clicks his tongue. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “Can you stop doing that? Just say what you want to say to me.” You drop your utensils on the plate and cross your arms.

Yoongi’s book closes with a loud thud and it lands on the table when he tosses it lightly. “You don’t tell me shit anymore. It’s like you've been keeping me at a distance for months. I’ve been wondering what the hell I’ve done, Y/N.”

You fix your gaze on the man in front of you. You feel the pent up frustration flowing through him. He has been feeling this way for months? 

“I-” You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Why do you keep thinking that it’s only you who cares enough for the two of you? Yoongi has always been there for you as a friend. It’s not what you wanted but he was everything you need in a friend. 

He was right. Back in high school, you would even text him at least three times a week. You would ask him any random thing and tell him about your day. He always responds right away which makes your heart jump every time. 

Ever since he started dating Jieun and even when they broke up, you’ve been putting all your energy into everywhere else but him. You started going home late so you don’t have to eat dinner with him and on weekends, you always hang out with Taehyung instead of hanging at home when you usually watch movies with Namjoon or Yoongi. You didn’t realize he noticed or even cared.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” You stammer before bowing your head. You try to think of an excuse for your actions. You can’t just tell him it’s because you’ve caught feelings for your brother’s best friend and you’ve been trying to move on from him on your own. 

He sighs and his tensed shoulders fall. “It’s.. it’s fine. Just tell me what’s wrong.” He says and leans forward, elbows on the table. 

You shake your head. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Yoongi.” 

“Then why avoid me?” He replies fast, a slight hint of desperation in his voice. “Have I made you uncomfortable in any way? Do you not like living with me?” 

You chuckle and bite your lip. “You can never make me uncomfortable, Yoongs.” You pause. “It’s just weird for me right now. And it’s got nothing to do with you or anyone. It’s just me. And I’m trying to figure it out myself. I’m sorry if I’ve been avoiding you.” 

He sighs. “Okay. But you know you’re my best friend too, right? You’re family to me too.” 

You nod and give him a warm smile. “I know. And you are to me too.” 

Namjoon could never stay mad at you. The two of you went back to normal after a few days. You never told him the reason why Taehyung and you made that trip. You only told Namjoon your friend needed support back home. Why you never told him the whole truth, you don’t know why. Parents have always been a taboo subject to you and Namjoon. Growing up, he didn’t like to talk about parents. 

When you were younger, you used to ask Namjoon if he knew your father. He would smile sadly and change the topic. Once, he answered he didn't know. But you know he was lying. You stopped asking when one night when he was a sophomore in high school, after he had accompanied you to a meeting with teachers in school, you found him crying in his bed. 

You didn’t know why he was crying and you didn’t want to ask him. Namjoon has always shown you his tough side. Your strong older brother was crying but your feet stayed planted on the floor. Silently, you slid to the floor, listening to his sobs and cries.

And when he finally stopped, you peek in his room again. That’s when you realize that he had been clutching a poster you made in school. It was a poster of appreciation to your parents or guardian. You didn’t know who to put and you didn’t really want to put your mother because she made your brother angry that day. And you liked Namjoon better than your mother. So you drew Namjoon instead. 

So after placing a kiss on his cheek on his sleeping form, you left his room and never asked again. 

“Mom, what are you doing here?” You asked as you opened the door and found your mother looking like shit. More than she ever had been. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was staring at you with a weird sloppy smile. 

You were home alone, both Yoongi and Namjoon at work. She huffed and pushed you out of the way. “Hey!” You complain as she continues to let herself in. 

“You’re not welcome here, Mom! Get home before Namjoon finds you here.” 

She flops herself on the couch and you wince when you get closer to her. Not only does she look like she hasn't showered for days, you can also smell she hasn’t showered for days.

“Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon.” She mocks while rolling her eyes. “What’s so great about that kid? Just because he has money now, he can treat me like shit?” She complains, finger pointing to her chest. You look at her in disbelief. 

“Mom, can you please just leave?” You beg this time, not really wanting to deal with her at all. This is the first time she’s been here. As usual, she’s drunk off her ass. 

The woman glares at you before standing up. For a moment, you thought she was gonna head to the door. But you know better that this woman is not that easy. She shifts her walk to the television. Just below it lies all the framed pictures of you. Your high school graduation picture, Namjoon’s and Yoongi’s college ones, and the picture of the three of you in your high school graduation.

“Look at all of you.” The bitterness in her tone is evident. “All happy now without me, aren’t you?” 

Anger flows through your veins. How dare she act like this at your own home? “Mom, leave it.” You demand this time. She looked back at you for a second before picking up the picture of the three of you. 

You step closer to her, about to retrieve the picture frame but she moved it away from you. “Can you just tell me what the hell you’re doing here? And how the hell did you even find us?” You say as you reached harder and snatched the frame from her hands. 

“I have my ways.” She shrugs and moves to sit on the couch again. 

She sighs. “I just miss you, poochie coo.” You’re disgusted as you watch her pout and lay on your couch like she’s back at home. “Haven’t you missed your momma?” 

You gave her a groan in disgust. 

And just like that, she began rambling on like she used to when the two of you were alone.  You’ve tuned out all of it as you stayed standing by the television, gripping the picture frame in your hand. Knuckles were turning white as your lips trembled in anger. She still can't act like this. You’re free from her. This isn’t her home anymore. This is your home. She can’t put her dirty paws in it and trash the place.

“Why can’t you just leave us alone?” 

She stops talking, staring at you with a brow raised. Instead of answering, she kept on rambling on how hard life has been for her since you left that hellhole of a house.

“We left you because you deserved it!” You scream and throw the picture frame. You hear the glass break but you don't care. Tears fall from your red face. “You’re a bad fucking mom and an an even worse person. Namjoon doesn’t give a shit about you and you know exactly fucking why!” 

You’ve never been angry at your mother. You’ve always loved her. No. You tolerated her. But what you can’t tolerate is her being at your home and walking over you. This is your safe place. You’re no longer her doormat.

That shut her up. You’ve never raised your voice at her. Her countenance couldn’t be deciphered, giving you a flat face, but with years of experience, you know she’s angry. And it wasn’t the anger she gives Namjoon when they fight. It’s a different kind of anger. 

“J-just…leave us alone from now on, please.” It was let out in a whisper that you don’t even know if she heard. 

She stands up and walks over to you. You know what comes next. You know it all too well.

“You’re raising your voice now to me too? You’re leaving me too?” The tears in her eyes were too familiar that you find it both disgusting and heartbreaking. She stares at you and places a hand on your cheek. The anger on your face quickly subsides. Her thumb caresses your skin. Her hands are rough, which is a texture you’re used to. “Like your father and Namjoon?” 

Like it was second nature, you fold into her hand. “I…” You’re unable to answer, shaking your head.

“You know what your father did to me, Y/N. You know. And I’m trying. I’m gonna be better. I promise. So don’t leave me, please.” You sigh, tired of hearing these words. You sigh and you know it’s just going to be another lie. You sigh but you nod. 

“Y/N?” 

You didn’t even hear him come in. Yoongi stands there, fresh from work. His eyes go back and forth at the two of you in a way that you can’t decipher. Within three seconds, his face hardens. You don’t understand why. You only watch as he heads to the door and opens it again. He stands by it while holding the knob and then turns his body to face your direction again. 

He stares hardly at your mother, eyes burning and never drifting away from her. 

“Get out.”

Your mom drops her hand from your face. She huffs then chuckles in disbelief. “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t hear me the first time? Get out of our house.” His voice is louder this time, but he’s not shouting. No. Yoongi never raises his voice when he’s mad. That’s one thing you know about him–one thing you love about him. He’s calculative and calm when he’s mad. There’s no screaming. No fighting. He tries to understand. And when he doesn’t, he walks away for a while.

The woman beside you looks at you for help and you try and stutter out a few words. But before you can really say anything, Yoongi stops you. He still doesn’t look at you. 

“Don’t look at her. She’s not gonna help you. So take your wrecked ass out of my apartment.”

She stares at the two of you in disbelief before chuckling again bitterly. “Fine. Rude fucking kids. Got a whole place to themselves and think they fucking rule the world.” She looks at you then wraps her arms around you. You cringe.

“Be careful, darling. We’re two peas in a pod, you and I. I just don’t want you to end up like me. That’s why I don’t want you to leave me, okay? I love you.” She whispers in your ear. 

I just don’t want you to end up like me. These words repeat in your head. And you don’t even notice as she leaves. You just stand there right where she left you, unable to lift your feet of the ground. You don’t see her walk out the door. You don’t see Yoongi walking over to you in concern. You don’t notice as Yoongi sits you by the couch in silence. You don’t hear Yoongi calling your brother in concern. You don’t realize he disappears for a moment to shower and get out of his work clothes. You only realize when he’s now beside you on the couch in his comfortable fluffy sweatshirt he loves.

Yoongi just sits there beside you. He doesn’t touch you or talk to you. He just sits there, letting his presence be known at all times. 

When you snap back into reality, you call for him. “Yoongi?” 

You don’t look at him when you ask the question that came up in your mind. “That wasn’t love, was it?” 

He smiles sadly before shaking his head. 

“No. Y/N. I don’t think so.”

Before you were ever to miss your best friend, he was back in the city to annoy you. The two of you were studying peacefully in the university library as Taehyung as you to join him cram his missed works because of his sudden trip. 

“Did something happen while I was gone?” Taehyung whispers, making you furrow your brows in confusion. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, your gaze still focused on the paper you were writing on. 

He sighs barely audibly. “Nothing. You just look kind of down… or something.” 

You shrug. “It’s nothing. Mom dropped by our apartment unannounced and it shook us up. Even Yoongi.” Taehyung didn’t press on the topic any further, focusing back on his own work. You were glad he doesn’t.

It was silent until you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket. This bothered you because you’ve put it on study mode. Which means that your phone was set only to receive notifications from your brother and Yoongi. You fished out your phone from your pocket to look.

joon is on his way to ilsan. angry.

It was Yoongi’s text. You mutter a curse under your breath but it does not slip by Taehyung. He peeks at your phone and his eyes widened. “I-I need to go.”

“You need me to drive you?” He asks and you nod immediately, worry filling your eyes.

The two of you quickly pack your things up and rush out of the library. Taehyung guides you to his motorbike but not before throwing your things inside his dormitory. You don’t even notice that Taehyung was the one who put your helmet on because you were thinking too much to do it on your own in a quick motion. You hop behind him and wrap your arms on his waist. 

“All set. Hold tight.” He orders before driving away. 

On the way, you call Yoongi. 

He answers in two rings. “Yoongi!” You scream to the phone so he can hear you through the traffic. “Y/N? Are you on the road?!” He asks the obvious. “Yes! I’m on Taehyung’s bike!” You answer. 

“You– I’m already on the way to stop him–or hold him back. I don’t know. Get back to your school, Y/N!” There is anger and worry in his voice. 

You roll your eyes like he could see it. “Well then, you shouldn’t have fucking told me!” 

Namjoon voluntarily seeing your mother specifically is never a good thing. It always ends badly. You have to be there for your brother. You always have to be there.

Because you know he’d be there too.

“Fuck, okay. Just drive safe. I’m almost there. Tell Taehyung not to rush on the road.” Those were Yoongi’s last words before he dropped the call. 

Screams.

The first thing you heard from outside the house was your mother’s voice. 

You hopped off the motorbike and handed Taehyung’s extra helmet to him. “Go.” He nods. 

The door swung open before you even knock, revealing your brother’s best friend with a worried face. “Y/N’s here.” He sighs. 

“Oh, thank god. Can you talk some sense to your brother? He’s being so dramatic.” 

Alcohol. The first thing that your senses take in was the smell of alcohol, then it was cigarettes. Every corner of the place that used to be your home reeked of vices. The living room was a mess more than it ever was before. Clothes and bottles were scattered around everywhere. But the woman standing in the middle of it was the biggest mess of them all. 

“Namjoon, let’s go home.” You say under your breath, tired.

“Right. Go back to where you came from and stop bothering me, little fuck.” Namjoon’s jaw clenches, burning eyes never straying from the woman in front of him. 

“You never go back to our home. If I even hear you step foot a block away from our apartment, I’ll call the police. Fuck you.” 

“You can’t keep her away from me.” She laughs in between her words like a maniac. She steps closer to Namjoon, her height making her raise her head to look him in the eye. “She’s my child.” 

The frown on his face disappears into an astonished smirk, but the moist eyes was a dead giveaway. You know him well enough to know what he’s thinking. She does not treat him like his child. She never did.

Before Namjoon could reply, you speak up from where you stand. 

“You’re not my mother.’’ You spat, finally looking at the woman you gave birth to you. She looks at you with a stunned–no, offended look on her face. Dare, it even left her speechless for a moment.

“Namjoon.” You shift your eyes back to your brother and call him again, louder this time.

“That’s right. Go call your brother who wants to act like a victim. Every fucking tim–” 

“Shut the fuck up!”  You interrupt your mother, making her pause her words. 

She looks at you with disdain in her eyes. 

“Namjoon’s your child too.” You callously spat, stepping closer to your supposed family. “He raised me. All on his own. You should be thanking him. You should be worshipping him, kissing his feet, and apologizing to him.” 

You don’t know how you were stopping yourself from crying. You feel like you could be passing out at this very moment, but you don’t. Instead, you stand your ground, gathering all the lost courage and tell your mom the words you always wanted to say, words never wavering and dicted with conviction. This time, no tears were spent for your mom. 

“I despise you.” And you grab your brother’s hand to leave.

Namjoon gets to his car and looks at you. You shake your head and point at Taehyung who was waiting patiently outside. 

You know your brother will cry and you wanted him to have his privacy. 

Before you even touch the helmet Taehyung was handing to you, Yoongi grabs your hand.

“You’ll ride with me.” And so you went with him, giving Taehyung a look of apology. Your best friend doesn’t mind, giving you a thumbs up before hopping on his bike.

“I’ll head back to the dorms!” Taehyung shouts while you follow Yoongi to his car. 

You sat on the passenger’s seat quietly the whole ride, not once looking at Yoongi. Instead, you basked in the comfort of his presence, trying to get your mind off the whole ordeal earlier. 

The drive back to the apartment was too fast to leave you alone with your own thoughts and Yoongi’s presence enough. You almost feel disappointed when you make a turn on the familiar street. 

It felt normal, the ride. But the realization only comes when the engine of the car shuts off and he lets go.

Yoongi was holding your hand, the other effortlessly on the wheel.

Silence fills the car. You tell yourself to speak up because you do want to tell him something. But you don’t find the words in your head. The longing to feel his touch longer than this moment. 

“Yoongi.” 

“Y/N.”

His gaze falls on the hand that is still wrapped in yours. Then it goes back to your face. You look back at him, the atmosphere in the car getting heavier by the second. For a moment, you allow yourself to let your eyes drift to his lips. But you avoid it intently, moving back to his eyes. His dark eyes that seemed to hold a lot of thoughts. You attempt to speak up, but didn’t continue as you hear the slam of your brother’s car door.

He squeezes your hand three times, before letting it go.

What the hell was that?

Taehyung and you were eating ice cream on a park. Your thighs resting on your friend’s lap. Taehyung has learned that there are rare times you get clingy to someone you’re close with. 

“So, you’re saying you two are holding hands the whole ride back home?” You nod.

He gives you a look.

“What?” 

He was still giving you the look.

You slap his arm. “What’s with the look?!” You ask, irritated.

“That’s sus. That’s very sus.” He says before staring ahead and licking his ice cream.

You were about to say something but you sense someone looking at you at your peripheral vision. Turning you head, you found a familiar girl in a cute white dress staring. She waves at you. 

You quickly remove your legs from Taehyung’s and wave back at her while she makes her way to you. God, how is she this pretty? 

“Jieun!” You greet her and she chuckles at your enthusiasm. 

“Y/N! How have you been? And is this your boyfriend? He looks handsome!” 

Your eyes widen and your hands shoot up to wave in defense. Taehyung snorts. “She wishes.” 

“This is my college friend, Taehyung. I’ve been doing fine. How about you? I heard about you and Yoongi. I’m sorry. If you want me to kick his ass for you, I will.”

She shakes her head. “Oh! No. Yoongi and I weren’t serious or anything. It was just casual.” 

“Oh. I thought since I haven’t been seeing you around the house…” 

She nods and laughs. “I got promoted. Yeah, to be honest, it’s been a pain directly working under the boss. Your brother is lucky he only stays in the office. The hours are fixed. Now I don’t even have time to hang around anymore.”

“Then I won’t be seeing you at home any time soon?” You ask her, pouting.

“I don’t think so. But I sure will try!” Her phone rings. “Speaking of the devil. Gotta get these papers back to the boss. Bye! It was nice to meet you Taehyung!”

She runs off. But not completely before looking back at the two of you.

“I’m sure Yoongi wouldn’t mind keeping you company at home, Y/N.” She winks.

And Taehyung repeated slaps your thigh.

“Oh my God, what does she mean by that?!” 

-

The dress you wore was simple but pretty. It was a two-piece white satin dress with a square neckline. It matched with the black pumps you had. Taehyung had helped you choose the outfit because you had to look nice and you agreed with him.

It was your birthday, after all.

You wanted to opt for a private dinner with all the people you care about. Something intimate and simple just for the four of you. But Taehyung had to nag you to have a party so he can host and possibly get wasted. He couldn’t convince you but when Namjoon had heard the idea when Taehyung was in your apartment convincing you about it, he was exhilarated. What else can you do but agree?

The smell of the club fills your nose. Goosebumps arise from your skin as the breeze from the air conditioner hits you as you enter the place Namjoon has rented a table for the day. Mrs. Park was the one who recommended the place to Namjoon. It seemes that the woman had friends in Seoul. Ms. Wong, the owner of the place and the friend of your favorite diner’s waitress-slash-owner, agreed to give you a private room today for a very friendly price so you could celebrate your 21st birthday. 

Taehyung, as the self-proclaimed creative of the group, adorned the tables with colorful decorations. White and Pink balloons filled the tables and floor. He also personally got some random student from school to DJ for the night. Knowing your best friend, he probably got him to do so as a favor. 

You have invited your high school friends and Taehyung invited some of your mutual friends and acquiantances from the university. You told Namjoon he can invite some of his friends from work too. 

“And there’s the birthday girl!” 

The party hasn’t even started yet and Taehyung already has a cup of most definitely not water in his hand. You were about to scold him but was interrupted when your guests scream your name and greet you one by one. They all take turns to greet you, give you presents, and take pictures with you. 

When they were all done, god, were you exhausted. 

“Alright, everyone, you can go have fun. Drink or eat. I need to talk to my friend.” Taehyung pouts as he pulled you away from the people and sat you by the table.

“Have you eaten? We should’ve come together.” Taehyung slides you a plate of carbonara. 

“I thought Namjoon was gonna come with me but he had a slight emergency at work.” You say as you take a fork of the pasta in your mouth. 

“You went alone?! Why didn’t you call me?” His eyes widened as he interrogated you while you continue to eat.

You shake your head. “I didn’t come alone.” 

His eyes lit up. “You didn’t?”

As if on cue, the chair beside you from your left slides and someone sits down. “She didn’t, kid.”

Yoongi gazes at your friend who looks at you with raised brow and a sly smile. You pinch him before the person who came with you get any ideas. 

You turn to Yoongi. “What took you so long? You said you were just going to park.” 

He plasted a smile on his face, resembling a cheshire cat. “I had to pick something up.” 

You were curious to what was it but decided not press any further. Instead you ask, “do you know what time Namjoon will arrive?” 

He shrugs. “He said he’s on his way with some officemates.” He pulls the plate of food from you and grabs your fork with his left hand. You feel your cheeks turn pink not because he used the same fork you used. (Even if it was that, you still weren’t used to the domestic treatment of Yoongi to you.) You were blushing because his arm rests on top of your chair, making it seem like his arm was around your shoulder. You don’t think he notices how small the distance is with the two of you right now.

“You told me you ate already.” He gives you a side eye. He did ask you at home if you did but you answered yes. 

“I just thought I could grab a bite here instead of making you cook before coming here.” You reply honestly. 

Taehyung was watching the interaction like it was his favorite tv show. Such a shame that someone calls him to the dance floor. He doesn’t even bother ruining the moment and leaves the two of you on the table without a word. 

“Finish your food before you go drink.” Yoongi orders rather softly before handing you your fork back.

“Finish your food before you go drink.” You repeat in a mocking voice while taking the utensil in your hand. He doesn’t press on your teasing but you hear him tsk in return. 

In contrast to the loud music and colorful lights, the two of you sat in silence while you share a plate and ate. You pray to God for someone to save you from being alone with him before you explode. 

God must be real, because just as you took your last bite, you hear your brother’s voice calling you.

He wore a black coat over his white shirt, neck tie removed and a few buttons left open. By his side were who you assume were his friends from work. You can only recognize Jieun from them.

“Joonie!” You jump off your chair to wrap your arms around your brother. 

“Woah.” He stumbles a little from the weight you unanticipatedly put on him. He pats your back. “Happy Birthday, ugly.” He greets you. You giggle and let go. 

“Hi, Jieun! You came!” You say before hugging her as well. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. And it was totally my fault that your brother was late.” You release her from the embrace, looking at her curiously. “So I came to apologize for that too. He had to fix a mess at work.” She pouts and you laugh and wave a hand. “It’s fine. As long as you’re here now.” 

Jieun hands you a paper bag and you thank her. Namjoon introduces you his other friends, who gave you gifts as well. You tell them they didn’t really have to but thank them anyway. 

The beautifully delicate woman’s gaze falls on the person standing behind you. Her eyes lit up in amusement. 

“Yoongi. You’re here too.” She acknowledges him. 

The man now beside you looks away, not meeting the eyes in front of him. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugs. 

“Yeah, of course. The best friend.” You couldn’t help but sense a tone of bitterness in Jieun’s voice, making your doubt that they ended on good terms. 

You laugh awkwardly to remove the tension in the space. “Hey, Joon! I’m gonna go drink with my friends, if that’s alright?” You shift your gaze to Joon who was talking to his friends, not seeing the exchange that took place. He nods at you and tell you to enjoy. 

After with three mix of drinks Taehyung had given you, you were dancing the night away. “Twenty fucking one!” Your best friend screams. 

You were dancing with him before he was whisked away by some random man you don’t know. Now, you were dancing with your friends from high school and a few from university. Eunwoo, your seatmate in Statistics, being one of them. He was being close to you all night. You didn’t mind. He wasn’t doing anything inappropriate, just dancing and vibing closely to you. You mostly dance with Mina anyway. You forgot how much you missed her.

“So, that hot best friend of that brother of yours, huh?” She shouts while swaying her hips to the music. 

You furrow your brows and leaned in to her ear to let her hear you better. “What do you mean?” 

“Saw you two close together. Is something finally happening?” She teases, poking your exposed stomach from the crop top. You swat her hand away and shake your head. 

“He’s not interested in me like that. That was nothing.” You explained, partly convincing yourself as well. 

She raises a brow. “Did he tell you that?” She asks you. 

“What?” You ask even if you heard her clearly.

She gave you a lop sided grin. “Did you ask him if it meant nothing? Because if it meant nothing, why was he watching you more than your brother tonight?” 

Your eyes immediately search for the man in the black and white baseball jacket, finding him drinking quietly in your table, the same spot he sat at earlier. When you meet his eyes, he immediately looks away. 

“See?” She whispers,

“He’s just worried about me.” You reason. 

“You sure about that? Do me a favor and stay close to that cutie from your class all night. Let’s see how he reacts then.”

Then a very sensual song plays. “Oh, you know this song?!” Eunwoo leans in your ear and shouts. You nod at him and laugh. “Yeah.” He didn’t have to scream if he was gonna lean in. 

“You wanna dance with me on this one?” He asks, smirking. You hesitate, about to look around to find your brother if he might see. 

“She does want to!” Mina answers for you before you can and pushes you to the man, making you land on his chest. Steady hands catch your arms before the both of you stumble. You feel your cheeks heat up at the close proximity of your face to him when you finally look up. 

“Woah there.” He whispers, and you see the way the lights hit his face. 

Eunwoo is attractive. In fact, he’s the most attractive guy in your class. It seemed that he’s interested in you, too. It wouldn’t be bad to indulge yourself in the presence of another man if the man you were eyeing won’t ever be yours, wouldn’t it? 

Maybe if you look at the other options, you would forget the unattainable one. 

Shaking your head off the thought, you push yourself off of Eunwoo softly. There shouldn’t be an option at all in the conversation. No one deserves to be a rebound or a choice.

First of all, you have to stop what you feel. 

You look back at the table to find the spot you were watching empty. Where did he go?

“Actually, Eunwoo. I think I’m gonna go and have some fresh air.” You admit. 

Eunwoo’s face fell. “Oh. Did do I something wrong?” He asks, suddenly looking small and scratching the back of his neck. 

“No, no.” Your hands shot up to deny his question. “You didn’t! I just feel stuffy all of a sudden.”

Then a genuine look of worry paints his face. “Are you okay? Do you need me to go with you?” 

You shake your head, “It’s fine. I’ll be back in a minute!” You add before making your way out of the dancing crowd, leaving your friends and Taehyung throwing it back in a circle of people. 

The sigh escapes your mouth when a whip of air hits your face as you stepped out of the establishment. 

“Didn’t like dancing?” 

Your head whips to the direction of the voice. There he stands, back resting on the wall and hands on his pockets. It was a cold night, you realize as the hair on your arms rise. Your hands shot up immediately to hold your arms in a cross position. 

“It’s cold out here. Why don’t you get back inside?” He asks another question before you even answer the first one. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You snort before taking your place beside him. The same spot that felt so comfortable to you. Next to him, you feel safe yet unknown. You know you belong there but as what? As a friend? As a sister? As a lover? And you know it’s hardly the last one. But what else can you do but dream?

“I have a jacket. You, however…” He points out the obvious without looking at you. He was right. The dress you wore was showing too much skin for the cold not to affect your body in the most it can. But you can hardly think about the cold at the moment so you don’t give him an answer.

Silence filled the air for a few minutes. It’s always like this with Yoongi. Silence, comfort, and safety. It was never quiet with you. Not in your life. But whenever Yoongi come into it, it became quiet. He has made you feel at peace. He has made you feel warm. 

The warmth he offered sometimes hurt, you admit. But it was not his fault. You are greedy. You want more of the warmth than what he can offer. But you would take this hurt everyday than go back to the chaos and noise that you have known before him. And tonight, you feel you can allow yourself to be more greedy.

“Do I look pretty tonight?” The words come out of your mouth before you even think. The beating heart in your chest seemed to want to run away from your brain with how fast it went.

“What?” Yoongi undoubtedly found the question unusual as you have never asked him questions like this. You weren’t one to worry about your appearance. They know that you’re definitely insecure about a myriad of things but you refrain from letting people know about it. Indulging the people you care about your problems is just not you. 

“I’m asking you if you think I’m attractive.” You repeat, cheeks blushing and eyes set in the other direction. Where you’re getting your confidence right now, you’re not sure where.

“Tsk.” He cocks his head and began to remove his jacket. “You are attractive.” 

“No.” Your hands are now by your stomach, fiddling and playing together. “I’m asking if you think I’m attractive.”

There was a pause in the air for a few second. It seemed like he was thinking. “Come here.” 

When your eyes lift up, you find him offering his jacket to you. He was holding it by it’s shoulder part, the back facing him and ready for you to slide your arms into the empty sleeves. A black long sleeve shirt was left of on him, complementing his growing ebony hair that was reaching the back of his neck. He was yet to get a haircut and you’re thankful for that.

“My arms are gonna die, get in.” He pleads and you comply. You’re disappointed he doesn’t answer the question but you decide not to press into it further due to sudden embarrassment.

You step in and turned around, sliding your right arm first and then your left. You fix the jacket on you as you look straight ahead the empty sidewalk. This was his favorite one. The black one adorned with white details of dragons on the chest and the sleeves. 

“Put your hand in the right pocket.” He instructs and you did. You feel something box-like and fish it out of the garment.

It was a rectangular black velvet box not bigger than your palm. “Wha–”

“It’s your present.” He interrupts your confused reaction.

Inside the box was a gold necklace with a pendant not bigger than half an inch. It resembled a butterfly. The wings were carved by horizontal lines but was connected to four tiny diamonds on each wing’s inner part. 

“Is this real?” You ask, eyes squinting at the necklace now in your hand. 

“Are you saying I’m cheap? Of course, it is. I had my friend from work get it. That’s where I stopped by before going in.” He answers and takes the necklace from you from the back. 

Before you knew it, his arms were in your peripheral vision, ready to put the necklace on you. He clasps it around your neck and you feel the cold pendant on your hand, admiring it. 

Cold hands turn you around by the shoulders, making you face him. 

“You look beautiful.” 

And he smiles. His hands are still on your shoulders, literally making him an arm length from you. The smile on his face is the cutest you have ever seen. It’s toothless and his cheeks more fluffier than ever. The way his eyes sparkled competed with the street lights and the present stars the night sky above the two of you.

He looked so beautiful. 

You’re so fucked. 

You’re irrevocably in love with Min Yoongi. 

It was taking you everything not to step forward and put your lips on his. The self-control you were so adamant to maintain was trying to leave your body because of the rush of emotion you feel.

So you let it happen.

A thud on the ground was the only thing heard when the box from your left hand hit the ground. You don’t miss how his eyes widened at the contact of his soft lips to yours. His hands on your shoulder are now raised in shock. You froze, unaware of what to do next. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. 

The moment you retract your lips however, his hands find their way to your cage your face. You swear your heart skipped a bit when he voluntarily pressed his lips onto yours and his eyes fluttered close. His plump lips move swiftly with yours, as if memorizing the very taste you.

Is this really happening?

You’re kissing Min Yoongi? You have been dreaming of this for years. You should feel happy. And you are. God, you’re ecstatic. But just like every moment of happiness you feel in your life, the anxiety that there will be an opposite reaction from the roulette of life sticks in your system. You push the ugly thoughts this time and let yourself bask in the excitement you feel.

His hands slide down to your shoulders, to your back, and finally your waist. He tugged your lower lip, tongue sweeping in your lips. There was a type of hunger in his kiss that confuses you. It didn’t feel lustful or wrong. It was not a satisfaction from a craving or a need. There was yearning that confuses you but you can’t help but indulge yourself in the moment. You let it happen and without thinking, your hand finds it way to the back of his neck. 

The icy cold of your palm must have woken him to reality because it made his whole body stiffen and he steps back, breaking the kiss in a swift movement.

“I–” He stutters, face red and out of breath. 

Before he or you can catch his breath or be able to choose his words, the door swings open.

“There you two are!” 

Your one and only brother looks at your surprised face and then at Yoongi, who was looking like he has seen death himself.

“You okay there, bro?” Namjoon asks, looking at his friend in suspicion. You panic, realizing your idiotly clever brother is trying to read the room and figuring out what had happened just before he stepped out of the building.

“Yeah! We were just going in. Yoongi’s getting cold.” You reply for the still frozen man instead when he doesn't answer for a second. 

Your brother still seemed a little confused but nods anyway. “Come on in quick, you guys.” He says before heading back in.

As soon as the door shut close you turn to the man in front of you. 

“Yoongi.” You call him, a hopeful call. It was a call for him to address what happened. It was a pleading for him to step out of his trance. It was you telling him “what now?” in one call of his name.

His eyes finally meet yours. They were hardly readable. You don’t know what he’s thinking and it kills you inside. 

“Yoongi?” You repeat, softly this time. Like you know what he’s about to do.

“Let’s…” His eyes stray from yours. “Let’s go inside.”

His feet carry him three steps before you grab his arm to stop him. Your nimble fingers catch his thick biceps and he looks back at you with pain in his eyes.

“Y/N, please.” He pleads, eyes moist.

“Are we really not going to talk about it?” You questioned almost angrily.

The hand from his other arm touches yours, gently taking it off. “It was a mista–.” Your mouth gapes open at his choice of words.

“A mistake?” You finish his sentence with a raised voice. How can it be a mistake when he kissed you back? He’s confusing you. 

“No! That’s not what I meant.” He rubs his face with his hands and looks up sighing. “Can we talk about this later? Namjoon’s waiting.”

He doesn’t even wait for your answer and leaves you in a rush out in the cold street.

When you come back in, your feet carried you to where Taehyung was. He was still at the dance floor but just lightly dancing and engaging in conversation with his friends. You must have been walking in distress because his face immediately falls to worry when he spots you.

You look straight at him with moist eyes, silently telling him you need him. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back, yeah?” Taehyung bids his friends goodbye and drags you into the women’s comfort room and into a cubicle. 

“What happened?” Taehyung whispered. 

The corners of your lips turn downward and the tears you were holding back finally fall. You cried like a baby and you cover your face with your fists. The alcohol in your system must have had affected you more than you think it did with the way you were more emotional than usual. 

“Hey, hey. Calm down.” Your best friend tried to soothe you, grabbing your hands away from your face and wiping your tears. “You’re gonna ruin your makeup.” 

You slap him on the chest repeatedly. “My makeup is the least of my priorities right now!”

“I know. I know! I was just trying to make you laugh! I’m kind of freaked out right now because I’ve never seen you cry and I’m gonna be honest here, you’re actually kind of an ugly crier.” He rants as he tried to stop you from hitting him. 

When you stopped hitting him and there wasn’t an overwhelming feeling to wail and cry, you pushed the lid of the toilet close and sat on it. You look up at your friend who stands in front of you. There was a moment of silence and the only thing that can be heard is you sniffing.

“Not gonna lie, you look like you’re about to suck my dick right now.” Taehyung jokes again and he covers himself with his hands after saying it, afraid to be hit again. Instead, you glare at him and huff.

“We kissed.” You confess. 

“You what? Who?” His brows furrow in confusion, crossing his arms by his chest.

You gave him a look, not wanting to say the name. The man in front of you stares, thinking for a few seconds, then his eyes widens and he clasps a hand on his mouth when he gasps loudly. 

You shush him and he sits on bended knees to get closer to you. “You kissed Yoongi?! How the fuck did that happen?” He shouts in a whisper. 

“I kissed him and he kissed me back.” You answer and Taehyung watches as your face scrunches up and the tears well in your eyes again. He immediately brings out a handkerchief from his pocket and shushes you, offering you words of comfort like a little kid.

“And assuming you’re crying now, it didn’t end well?” He asks as he wipes your tears with the cloth. You nod with a pout over your tears and Taehyung smiles sadly. He always admired how you love so pure and delicately. He wishes Yoongi could see you the way he sees you. 

No, he doesn’t like you like that. But he wishes he could see that you were more than a little sister who’s been hurt. You’re a strong kind woman. The kind of person who would give up everything just to help someone. He wishes that not only Yoongi but also your brother could see that you only allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of them. 

“Do you want me to speak to him?” He genuinely offers, a bitter tone on his voice.

“No. He said we’ll speak after the party.” You answer, finally halting from crying.

Taehyung helped you collect yourself and fix the way you look before going out again. It was all your goal to not see or approach Yoongi for the rest of the night but you can’t help it when the first thing you see the moment you stepped out of the comfort room is his face.

There he was, sitting on a bar stool, away from the private tables. 

Unlike earlier when he stayed away from heavy drinks, there was a glass of whiskey in his hand. The regret of wearing white creeps in because you think it might’ve made you stood out against the dark ambiance of the place. You know because his eyes shift in your direction when Taehyung was dragging you out.

It would’ve been fine. You would’ve been okay if he just ignored you and carried on drinking. That was you were supposed to do too, anyway. 

But the thing that made your heart shatter was when you found who was sitting beside him–Jieun. You see her touch his arm and whisper in his ear. Taehyung has pulled you away from the scene before you see what happen next.

The night passed and you were left to act like nothing happened. You faked smiles and avoided Yoongi all throughout the night. Eunwoo did not approach you more that night which you were thankful for. It seemed he got the point that you weren’t interested in anything more. You danced with your friends, open your gifts in front of many, and wasted the night away with alcohol.

On the way home, you chose to ride with your brother. As you sit silently beside him, you were wishing he didn’t sense how there was a shift in yours and his best friend’s aura. 

Your mind brings you back to the kiss that still lingers on your lips and you wonder how the night had turned upside down. “How was that for a birthday, huh?” Namjoon asked.

“Was fun, yeah?” You only chuckle in response and looked out the window. You can feel him stare at you from your peripheral vision. 

“Who gave you that necklace?” He suddenly asks and you realize he must’ve been looking at the jewelry around your neck.

Your hand flies up to touch the necklace, once again being reminded of the man you’ve been trying hard to forget since hours ago. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

You don’t miss the way his expressions harden ir the way his knuckles turn white from the grip on the wheel. “Huh.” He only reacts.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, curious at his reaction. 

“Oh, nothing. The necklace is just familiar, that’s all.” He smiles at you before setting his eyes back at the road fully.

You feel the charm of the necklace up with your thumb and index finger, feeling the rough texture of it. 

Familiar? 

The drive home was normal after that. You didn’t have much conversation and only sang to some songs on the radio. When Namjoon was parking, Yoongi was already waiting outside his car. You watch him as he stands there with his hands in his pocket, kicking the ground like a kid impatiently waiting. 

“I asked him to wait so he could help carry some of your gifts.” Joon explained without you asking. You nod. “Ah.” 

When you stepped out the car, your eyes meet with Yoongi’s. It’s as if a million words holds them. 

“I’ll go ahead first. I need to wash up.” You say to both of them and break the contact with Yoongi. 

You did as you told and don’t look back at your brother and his best friend who were busy getting your gifts from the car. 

You lie in your bed, unable to sleep for hours. Finally giving up on trying, you sit up on your bed. Feeling a slight parch on your throat, you decide to get a glass of something to drink in the kitchen. But before you do, you text the man who was on your mind–the culprit of you not being able to sleep tonight.

u up? - 3:48 am

Not even a minute later, your phone dings with a notification. He must’ve been not able to sleep as well.

why - 3:48 am

meet me in the kitchen. - 3:49 am

Before leaving your room, you take a check on your appearance. You wore an oversized band shirt and comfy lounge shorts. You run your hand over your hair to brush over the stray strands that went in different directions over your aggressive turning on the bed. When you were satisfied with how your hair looked, you went out of your room and into the kitchen. 

He still wasn’t there when you arrived so you sat down on a bar stool by the kitchen counter and waited for him with a boxed chocolate drink in your hand. 

Yoongi finally steps out of his room, cheeks a bit swollen for some reason. He wore an oversized shirt like you but instead of pajama shorts, he wore grey sweatpants. Your eyes meet at the glow of the light coming from the kitchen. The corners of your lips turn slightly upward into a sad smile.

Before he sits down beside you, he grabs a glass of water from the fridge. He sets it down beside your drink giving you a small smile.

There was an uneasy silence for a few seconds as you both sit there and stare at your drink. 

“I’m–”

“So–”

You both speak at the same time, words overlapping.

“You go first.”

“Go ahead.” 

You chuckle and he sighs. “I’ll go first.” You declare. He only nods and takes a sip of his water. 

Your finger runs over the edges of the boxed drink, not being able to make contact with the person you’re speaking to. For a moment, your brain is telling you to don’t say it, as if it knows you’re only going to cause yourself pain if you do it. But a bigger part of you just wants to rip it off like a band aid.

“I like you.” You confess.

“Ever since I was in high school, I had this stupid crush on you.” You chuckle, an overwhelming emotion rushing through you. Your lower lips jutted out and you feel the warm tears trickle to your eyes. 

God, why can’t you do shit like this without crying?

“I know you don’t feel the same way. You said the kiss was a mistake–” 

“It wasn’t a mistake.” He interrupts you. This makes you look at him and he finally sees your reddening eyes, tears threatening to spill. It was a sight that broke his heart. The way he was causing you pain is agony to him.

“What?” 

He shakes his head. “The kiss wasn’t a mistake. I’m taking responsibility for it.” 

Oh. 

It’s like that. It wasn’t because he liked it or he liked you back. He was just taking responsibility for it. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It was great.” He looks at you straight in the eyes. You don’t notice the tears that have trickled down your face non-stop. 

“But I don’t think that something should happen between us more than that.” He continues after pausing. “For obvious reasons.”

Obvious reasons… your brother and your age gap. Fucking bullshit. 

He lifts himself off his seat but before he can walk away, you grab his arm. He stills in his stance, looking at your hand on his arm before looking straight to your eyes.

“Wait,” you gulped. You don’t think you should ask this. That way, you may be able to prevent the inevitable pain. But still, you weren’t thinking. If you don’t ask now, you’re afraid you will regret it forever. So still, you ask.

“Did you not feel anything?” you squeaked. Beneath the dim light, you see his eyes flash with something unreadable.

His eyes shift away from yours and down to the hand still grasping his arm. He thinks for a few seconds, probably pondering on how to break it to you. Slowly, he shakes his head. 

“No. I’m sorry.” 

With the words he let out, your hand falls from him and onto your sides, laying limply like the life in it was lost. 

He left you there in the kitchen for your heart to break alone. When he fully disappears to his room, you were left to support yourself with your hands on your face, weeping and your heart crashing all over the place. 

What a fucking birthday.

-

The silence in the atmosphere sent chills to your skin when you entered the apartment. The lights were turned off but the television was turned on, muted. Yoongi was lying on the couch, asleep. At least, that’s what he’s showing. You guess he’s just pretending to be asleep because he’s avoiding you because of what happened yesterday.

You headed to your room in silence and decided to take a nap. If only you knew, this nap was the nap you will remember forever. 

Screams were the first thing you heard. Then alarms, then horns of cars, then crying–needless to say, it was too overwhelming for you to stay asleep. You rise from your bed in panic, heading to the window to see what the commotion was about. 

Your hand flew to your mouth as you watched a helicopter crash into a far building. Then you looked down. Cars were all over. Some crashed together. One crashed into a pole. There were injured people everywhere. 

The first thing you thought of was Namjoon. Namjoon was outside. 

You scramble to get your phone that was buried in your sheets, quickly dialing Namjoon. You don’t pray a lot, but it seemed a good time to start. “God, god, please. Namjoon, please answer.” 

When he didn’t, you tried again. Then again. Then again.

You groaned and decided to give up when it seemed hopeless for the nth time. You’ll just have to see him for yourself. After slipping your phone into your pants’ pocket, you grab your jacket from your closet and wear it. 

“Yoongi!” you scream as you step out of your bedroom.

“Yoongi, you gotta help me. I can’t reach Namjoon! Something fucked up is happening outside. We need to go get him!” You turned on the lights to wake up Yoongi. But when your eye drifts to the couch, nobody’s there. 

“Yoongi?” You call out, hoping that Yoongi comes out of his room.  You chuckle, trying to make light of the situation with tears forming in your eyes, in hopes that you’re in a very bad nightmare right now.

“Yoongi? This isn’t funny. Where are you? What’s going on?” There’s an unexplainable fear that suddenly hit you.

Yoongi wasn’t in his room, you checked. He isn’t in Namjoon’s either. Not in the bathroom. So you called him too. He didn’t answer. You called Yoongi, then Namjoon again. He didn’t answer. 

That’s when your eyes caught the breaking news on the TV that was still muted. You unmute it. The reporter, the most well-known professional in the breaking news segment was in distress, tears falling from their eyes like waterfall. “Yes, this just in, an unknown force is making people disappear and turning them into dust. Including my partner, our own Mr.--” Whatever she was saying, you tune out, eyes only watching actual footage of people disappearing in the news then drifting back to the empty couch by your side.

Yoongi’s gone… and Namjoon probably is too. And with that realization, you find your knees getting weak and hitting the hard floor with a thud. 

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. thank you. my works are not cross-posted anywhere else but this blog. thank you.

House of Cards

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst (i love angst i'm sawry), unrequited love (but is it really), pining wc: 6.1k warnings: niragi, spontaneously written at 2am and under the influence, chishiya is emotionally constipated, is chishiya ooc here idk summary: in which you've known chishiya before borderlands and he isn't so fond of seeing you at the beach ao3 link

The first person you saw after the first game at the Beach was Usagi. You ran to her as soon as you saw her by the pool.

“Have you seen Arisu?” She asks you as soon as you let go. You shake your head in worry, your head immediately looking around and searching the crowd for the familiar shaggy mop of hair. 

“There!” She exclaims and you both push through the crowd to get to him. He sees both of you approaching and screams your names in delight.  

“Arisu!” You grin as you approach him. You immediately wrap your arms around him. He pats your back.

“You’re both alive.” He lets out a sigh of relief. You nod and let him go.

He and Usagi stare at each other with shy smiles, making you roll your eyes. You stood in between them awkwardly.

“Please just hug it out. I’m practically begging at this point. I wish the game just killed me if I knew I will have to see this shit.” You cross your arms and walk away from both of them while both of them follow you, no doubt still shyly smiling at each other while talking.

You sat on one of the pool chairs and Usagi sat on the edge of your seat. Arisu sat on the other chair beside yours. 

“Ann was trying to test me,” Arisu says as he sat down on the edge of the beach chair, talking about the game he was in.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do,” Usagi replies while you nod in agreement. 

A girl in a blue patterned two-piece swimsuit enters your space and sits beside Arisu. She was tall, pale, and pretty and with some kind of stick in her mouth. The three of you follow her with your gazes.

“Your girlfriend?” She asks and nods at Usagi. She was talking to Arisu.

“What?” Arisu reacts, clearly caught off-guard.

You roll your eyes again but watch the exchange with a grin.

“You’re wrong,” Usagi denies. 

“You clearly like each other. Why not date?” Kuina shrugs and then continues. “You’re never gonna know when you’re going to die.” 

Whatever Arisu, Usagi, and the new girl were talking about, you tune it all out with your thoughts.

It was harsh but true. People always say, if the world was ending, they’d live to the fullest. In Borderlands, every day is your last day. You think back to Chishiya. If he was here, how would he treat you? Pain struck your chest at the thought. 

Will he ever look at you the way Arisu looks at Usagi? All this time, you’ve been hanging on to your life hoping you’ll return to him. But is it worth it? Will he even like it when you come back? 

“What about you?” 

The girl looks at you with expectant eyes.

“What was that? Sorry, I zoned out.” 

“You got someone to go back to the original world? I’m Kuina, by the way.” She gives you a sweet smile.

You nod, thinking of the nonchalant platinum blonde. “Yeah. I think so.” 

She was about to ask more when a loud voice halts the entire celebration.

“Hey, stop playing that tacky music!”

Armed men enter the area. You recognize some of them as the men who tied you up when the three of you were caught spying on The Beach. Everyone stops partying upon their arrival, you even see some holding their breath. 

“It’s the militants,” Kuina explains to the three of us. “If you want to live a peaceful life at the Beach, avoid getting involved with them.” 

She begins to explain who the militants are and what they do. The muscular man named Aguni is their leader. They’re who are in power on the Beach along with Hatter and his devotees. A conflict could happen between the two groups at any time. You don’t doubt it. Such two different powers will clash inevitably.

Aguni and his militants stop by the four of you. He was looking at Arisu who avoided his gaze.

“What happened to your friend?” The question was for Arisu again. You raise a brow. You’re beginning to notice a lot of people knowing Arisu. He must’ve been in a game with the man back when he was with his friends.

Arisu stayed silent, a glimpse of his defeated self, lying on the ground passing by you. 

“I see. He died.” Aguni states the obvious. “What a shame only the small fish survived.” 

You frown at the clear insult to your friend.

“Do you know each other?” Kuina whispered to Arisu.

Aguni then flits his dark gaze to Usagi and then to you. You suddenly felt naked in your black two-piece swimsuit. But it’s not like you to cower. So you look back at him with the same dark but angry gaze. 

“You,” he points at the arrogant-looking man with the gun over his shoulder. “Bring those women over.” 

The man quickly moves to his feet, about to grab Usagi first. Arisu stands up in a heartbeat, shouting his protest.

“Stop it. Don’t get involved!” Kuina holds his arm as he stands up. 

Usagi stays planted in her seat and you stand up, fists in anger and on your sides. 

“Our boss said he wants a taste of both of you.” He says with an ugly smirk on his face. With you being closer, you could see the multiple piercings on his face. You feel nothing but disgust for this man.

The man grabs Usagi’s arm again and both Arisu and you stop him. 

“Stop it,” Arisu repeats, standing in front of you and Usagi.

“What? Had to have two chicks to yourself? Don’t you know sharing is caring?” He asks Arisu and then asks Aguni. “What should we do about this guy?” 

“Break his legs so that he’ll die in the next game.” 

Your eyes widen at the words of the militants’ leader. You quickly felt fear for your friends. God, is this really gonna happen to the three of you? 

The pierced man orders the militants to bring the both of you to Aguni while he grabs Arisu.

The tattooed man with a sword approaches you and grabs you by the arm. 

“Fucking let me go.” You struggle against his hold, tugging your arm from his digging grasp. 

Arisu escapes the pierced man’s hold and is about to head back to the both of you when the militants block his way. He can’t do anything. You can’t do anything. You were outnumbered and no one will save you. 

You stare down the bald tattooed man, not letting him see your fear. 

You look around, desperate for an opening or an idea to save the three of you. The people only look at the situation closely. 

There was only one name in your mind. Chishiya. You have to get out of here for Chishiya. You have to make it out alive somehow. 

“Is this a fight?”

The crowd made a way and came in the Beach’s number one, Hatter. 

“Back off Hatter, this doesn’t concern you,” Aguni spoke up. 

“I can’t do that. As Number One, I’m obliged to maintain order at the Beach.” He says dramatically, looking afar. Then he looks at the militants once again. “Can you let off the newcomers in my account, Aguni?” 

All of the residents of the Beach watch as the tension between the two leaders rises. It was Hatter who first breaks the stare down and looks at the pierced man.

“Niragi?” He directs the question to him. So his name is Niragi, you thought. It’s best to avoid him. He reeks of danger and you are seldom wrong about your intuition. 

Niragi looks away. “I only take orders from my boss.”

Hatter clearly takes offense at the man’s answer and looks at Aguni again with dark eyes. “Then let me ask your boss.”

He stares down at Aguni again, faces inches away from each other. “Who’s your boss, Aguni?”

Aguni doesn’t look at Hatter, staring ahead in anger. Then he turns to face Hatter. Everyone waits for the tough-looking man’s answer.

“It’s you, right?” 

Hatter seemed pleased with his answer and whispered something to him. Aguni then makes his way out of the scene. You successfully tug your arm out of the militant’s grasp, glaring at him and moving away. 

“All executive members are to gather in the meeting room!” Hatter announces to everyone. 

The militants rush out of the scene and Hatter watches as they walk away.

“Arisu, you’re coming too.” He orders without looking at him, still eyeing the gunned men who have their backs turned to him. “I heard your potential from Ann. Follow me.”

Arisu looks at Usagi and then at you. You nod at him, assuring silently that the two of you will be okay. 

“I’ll be back,” Arisu promises to Usagi who was still sitting down. 

Your male friend follows Hatter and Usagi trails behind him in worry but stops after a few steps. You follow her and place a hand on her shoulder, staring at the back of your friend who was to be in a meeting with the executives. 

“Usagi. He’ll be fine.” You tell her in comfort, mostly telling it to yourself too. 

You turn back at Kuina, about to ask her if she knows where they’re going. 

But what you saw froze you in your place, dropping your hand from Usagi’s shoulder. 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. That white jacket. That platinum blonde. Those cat-like eyes. Your eyes must be deceiving you. It can’t be. 

“Shuntarou.” You sang as you entered the Doctors’ lounge room. 

He was alone and it was so quiet you can hear a pin drop so you don’t miss how he audibly sighs. You giggle, well aware of the fact that you annoy the shit out of him. You sit across from him. He was reading some patient information with three books stacked on the coffee table in front of him. 

As usual, he doesn’t even express his negative welcome with words. 

“I bought you something,” you wave the paper bag in front of his face in excitement. 

It didn’t surprise him. You always do this. Whenever you were out shopping, you had to buy him one thing. It was an unspoken rule you set for yourself. And it could be anything—no price range, no rules. One time, you bought him a plant. It died in three weeks. So, you set another rule for yourself, only inanimate objects as gifts.

You set the paper bag down and take out the box inside it. You know he won’t bother opening it in front of you so you open it yourself. 

As you take off the lid, you excitedly say, “Tada!” 

His eyes flit to the content of the box for a second and then to you before going back to his patient’s papers. He never says thank you for any of your gifts but you don’t really mind. He didn’t ask for them anyway. But you know when he likes the gifts. It’s how you know more about him. He’ll never tell you what he likes or dislikes so it was up to you to figure it out. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Can you wear this when we go on our date?” You press him as you take out the white jacket from the box. 

It wasn’t a date. But he doesn’t deny it so that was enough for you. 

Before he answers (but you doubt he would), the door of the lounge opens and walks in Nakamura Hina. She was your senior in med school and a great doctor. She’s also one of Chishiya’s co-workers. 

She’s nice and she never showed you anything bad but you sense that she doesn’t like you. You didn’t mind. There was a pretty long line and you don’t plan on opening the doors to any of them. 

“Y/N, you’re here,” she states the obvious and gives you a tight strained smile. Her eyes flit over to Chishiya. 

“Chishiya, Mr. Yamamoto wants you in his office to talk about the patient.” 

Without saying a word, he was already on his feet, not even sparing you a glance and following Nakamura out the door. You stand up too.

“I’ll head out too! Remember what I said, okay?” 

He doesn’t even acknowledge you and kept on walking. Hina was looking at you with pity in her eyes. You’ve grown accustomed to it. That was your reputation anyway–the rich girl always hanging around Chishiya Shuntarou. 

When they were out of the door, you slump back down your seat and groan. 

Before leaving, you fixed your gift back in the paper bag and set it down next to his things. 

You hope he’ll wear it, at least. 

It’s Chishiya. Your Chishiya was beside Kuina. 

He was staring ahead of you so you purposefully blocked his sight, forcing yourself to be in his sight. It was so you to force your way into his life.

If he looks at you, then it’s real. He’s real.

His gaze drops on your face but as soon as his eyes meet yours, Usagi speaks.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

This made you look at her. “It’s—,” you look back at him but find yourself gazing at a crowd with no Chishiya or Kuina in sight.

He’s here in Borderlands. 

Scared to be alone in such a dangerous place, Usagi and you slept in her room. You lie on your backs and side by side on her bed. Inches away from each other, you could practically feel Usagi’s anxiety reeking off and unto you. 

“Do you think Arisu’s fine right now?” Usagi finally thinks out loud.

You sigh. “He can handle himself.” You pause and think about the man you considered your friend. “He’s smart, isn’t he?” 

You feel her genuinely smile beside you. “It’s definitely one of his strengths.” 

“So you like smart guys too?” You tease her. “I get it,” you add, thinking about a certain genius doctor you know. 

“Too? What does that mean? Your type is smart guys?” She gets excited and faces you on her side, leaning her chin on her palm and putting her upper weight on her elbow.

You purse your lips. “I’m not telling you.”

She shakes you and whines. “Come on. Tell me.”

You grin and lean on your elbow too, now facing each other like two teenage girls in a sleepover. Doing this felt like ages ago. You used to gush over Chishiya to your girlfriends who clearly felt annoyed and tired of it. But right now, Usagi was waiting and is so excited for you to tell her all about the guy you liked. It reminded you of how life used to be so simple. Now, romance was a luxury no one can afford in Borderlands. 

“He’s a doctor.” You start. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. Our parents were coworkers and friends.” 

“I was in med school too. We were both there together. It’s kind of an unspoken thing that we’re arranged to be married. I hated studying medicine. So I didn’t really pursue it after college.” You pause, thinking about much easier times. “Chishiya, though, he’s good at everything. He’s smart and he’s so cool. He isn’t like anyone I've ever met.”

“So it’s him? The person you’re going back to after Borderlands?” Usagi asks, sweetly and in awe.

You gave her a sad smile. “That was the plan.” 

Her brow furrowed and formed into a frown. “What do you mean?” 

You lie back down, looking up at the ceiling with tears in your eyes. It’s a good thing the lights were off. “I saw him tonight. He’s here.” 

“He’s here?” She doesn’t hide the shock in her tone and you nod. “Why didn’t you go to him?” 

“It’s weird.” You admit. “I’m kinda scared.”

It’s true. You were scared. At first, you were shocked but then you were scared. Chishiya were in the same deadly games you’ve been in. Needless to say, they were traumatic and insane. You don’t doubt that he won all those games but still, you were scared. One wrong move is all it takes sometimes. He could die any day here in Borderlands instead of him waiting for you in the real Tokyo. And would he care about you here? Without the threat of your parents knowing their daughter’s every move?

“You’re scared of your boyfriend?” She huffs, trying to lighten the mood.

“That’s the thing. He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer with a sad voice. “I was just this girl who chased him around. I didn’t mean a thing to him. I’m scared that he won’t care about me here.” 

Usagi places a hand on top of mine. 

“I’m sure he will. You’re hard not to care about, Y/N.” 

You slept that night with a heavy heart. You’ve come a long way in the games. You sacrificed, killed, and bled just so you can come back to a life that was not even worth living for a man that was fighting for his life in the games as well. 

It scares you a lot because as much as you do not care about what happens to you, you know that you’ll die for him. You realize that your feelings for him run that deep. You love him that much. 

That very night, you realize that your goal in Borderland has changed.

It wasn’t to go back to Chishiya. It was to make sure that he gets out of here alive. Even if meant your damnation, you’ll gladly take it. 

The next morning, Arisu, Usagi, and you went around the Beach to gather information. There wasn’t much. You learned that there weren't any games beyond Tokyo and it wasn’t accessible at all. Whoever leaves Tokyo or the country, a laser shoots them from the sky. 

The three of you assume that the only real way to get out of here was to play the games. 

“I’ll go to the annex basement,” Usagi says as the three of you walk outside the building. “I’ll go get some food supplies and any weapons that we can use.” 

“I’ll go with you,” you tell her. She nods at me. “I’m going to look for someone I know.”

You spun and nodded at Arisu. “I’ll look for some more information if I can, in case we need it.” 

The two of you separated from Arisu and did what you told him you will. You didn’t find Chishiya. You didn’t think it wise to ask the residents of the Beach about his whereabouts because it wouldn’t be wise for them to know about your association with him. None of these people can be trusted.

When the three of you met up once again, Usagi began to tell Arisu that the Beach had gathered quite a large number of firearms and it was guarded. 

“As long as they have those firearms, Hatter is dangerous,” Usagi worried.

You nod. “The militants too. They overpower us.” 

Arisu stops walking, thinking deeply. Usagi asks him what’s wrong but he walks again and looks out the window. 

Out there, the residents of the Beach we’re partying like there’s no tomorrow. 

“The Beach,” Arisu starts. “A utopia built upon charisma. However, maybe that’s just our imagination. A utopia doesn’t exist in this world.” 

Usagi and you look at each other, confused at your friend’s mumbling.

“Usagi. Y/N. I’d like to talk to you about something.” 

He stares at the two of you deeply in the eye, waiting for your answer intently. 

You let out a loud huff. “Why? What’s got you serious all of a sudden?”

You were mad. You found Chishiya on the rooftop with Kuina. How dare him tell Arisu to specifically leave you out of his plan? 

“Y/N?” The tall woman was the first one to see you approaching with heavy breaths and clenched fists. 

“Why would you tell Arisu to leave me out of the plan? What if something happens to the four of you? What am I supposed to do?” You protest in anger. 

“Kuina.” 

He only says her name but Kuina understands him. She gives him a nod and taps you on your shoulder before heading inside and out of the rooftop. 

“I want to help. I want to leave here too,” you plead with him and take his hand. He pulls it away from your grasp and your heart doesn’t miss to ache because of that action. 

“What is so valuable about your life outside Borderlands, anyway?” 

“What?” 

“You spend all day swiping Daddy’s credit card and drinking with your fake plastic friends. And when you’re bored of them, you come to the hospital to annoy me.” 

“Why are you saying this?” Tears well up in your eyes. It’s not that he was lying. All he said was true. You know that you do, in fact, annoy him. You don’t forget the evident irritation on his face whenever he sees you approaching before Borderlands. 

You couldn’t help it. Even if the life you had before was dull, there was something about him that pulled you in. You know that he never liked you despite the association of your parents to his. But to hear it tonight, right when you’ve only asked him if you could be a part of his plans—that you want to help him leave The Beach and out of Borderlands.

“Just go back to your room, Y/L/N.” 

Stupid. Worthless. Annoying. That’s what he thinks you are. You’re too stupid to be in his oh-so-great plans to leave The Beach. You’re worthless in his and your own life. Most of it all, you were nothing but a nuisance to him. He doesn’t even think of you as a friend. He just thinks of you as someone whom his parents thrusted to. 

You agree it’d be better if you weren’t sent to this world with him. But you were. 

“I’m serious. You’ll mess up my plan,’ he even adds. 

“Why would I do that? What about the games I played? Do you not think I’ve won them with my hard work?” 

He makes a tsk sound, staring ahead. It was chillier on the rooftop than expected and your long-sleeved shirt wasn’t enough to shield you from the cold. But you endure it for him and for this argument. 

“No. You’ve won games on your own.”

“Then why?” You plead. “Why do you think I’m incapable?” 

“I don’t think you’re incapable.” 

“Probably not. But you think I’m nothing but a burden to you.”

“You are.” Typical. Unfiltered and cruel truth comes out of his mouth.

“Then you should just let me die in the games I will be in. That way, you’re free of me forever. You’d be able to come back to our life, Chishiya. I know it. I just want to help you. Because I—, even if I’m not your friend, you are mine.” You rarely call him by his last name. The only other times were when it was necessary so you don’t doubt that he felt the coldness in your voice when you uttered his name. 

‘Because I love you’, you almost let out. 

You don’t wait for his answer and turn around, leaving him alone on the rooftop with his uncaring face and his hand inside the pocket of his white jacket. 

While his other hand, the one you held in yours, twitches against the cold breeze of the night. 

As Shuntaro’s childhood friend, his unfiltered words were nothing but old news to you. Every time he’d push you away and tell you mean things in disguise of cold harsh truth, you won’t deny that you feel a pang of pain in your heart for a millisecond. But, as aforementioned, with the years you’ve known the nonchalant cat-man, you’ve learned to tug that feeling away as soon as possible. 

Right now though, you find yourself exhausted dealing with him. 

Now, your feet have carried you to Arisu’s doorstep instead of yours. Despite knowing Chishiya before Borderlands, you weren’t brought here with him. You had your first games alone. That’s when you found Usagi and then eventually, a distraught and defeated Arisu lying on the street. 

You spent most of your time in Borderlands with him and Asugi. The three of you joined The Beach together. Who would’ve thought you’d find your long-time crush and friend here as one of the executives?

But before knowing he was here, all your thoughts consisted of the guilt of survival. After all the games you were in, why have you survived? You didn’t deserve it. You don’t consider yourself a good person. You were high on privilege and you basked in it. Your life was pointless with no real hardship.

You’ve confided in Arisu when these thoughts occur. It wasn’t because he was good at comforting you. It was because he understood. He told you he lived a similar life before Borderlands. You picked each other up when he lost Karube and Chotta. 

You knocked on his door while hugging yourself in one arm. Your head was all scrambled and there was an aching pain in your heart because of Chishiya.

“Y/N?” 

Arisu opens the door to you with tears streaming down your face. His hair was shaggier than usual and he could barely open his eyes. You felt a bit guilty for waking him up so late at night.

“What happened?”

And then you spilled everything to him—the talk with Chishiya and the way you felt about the blonde. You told him how you felt cast aside on the plan to steal the cards.

In the dark of Arisu’s room and on his bed, you tore open your heart in front of him. Your friend sat quietly on the side, listening while rubbing your back in comfort. 

It’s ironic how Arisu felt more like a friend than someone you knew for more than a decade. To Chishiya, you were nothing but a burden. Just someone who his parents wanted him to be associated with. His father is a great doctor and a good friend of your father, the owner of multiple hospitals all over Japan. 

And you, you were studying medicine as well but you never particularly felt attached to it. It felt like something you had to do. You were supposed to inherit all of it anyway. 

You don’t consider yourself intelligent but you had good grades up to high school. It was during college that you started to drift away. 

Little do you know, your parents didn’t think you were capable of handling all your businesses from the start. That’s why they chose Chishiya. He was put in the same classes as you from high school up to med school. It was never spoken of but both of you know—Chishiya was being put beside you to marry you and have him take over the company. Chishiya Shuntaro, the genius child. 

It was what your parents wanted. It was what his parents wanted. It was what you learned to want. It was what he never wanted.

No, he did want your father’s position. He was always drawn to power and control. And he will get it. But you were the weight that had to come with it. It hurts but it’s the truth. 

You clung to him for a long while. But a person can only take so much. Maybe he finally had enough. Without your parents in Borderland, he was free of your childish antics. If you die out here, you know that your parents will still take him in. In fact, maybe they’d be glad that they’ve gotten rid of you. It was nothing but a formality after all—just to say that the next owner is still of your father’s blood. 

Despite all that, you love him. You love all of him. You love him even if he looks bored to death when he’s with you. You love him even if he straight up refuses to teach you the lessons you have a hard time on, only to give you his notes right after and even quiz you on them. You love him so much that you accepted being treated like you were worthless and nothing but a pretty display of a daughter by your father so you can have him. If Chishiya wanted to be selfish, then so can you. If he has your position as chairman, then you’ll have him. It’s only fair. He can be happy with his power and miserable with you and you can be happy with him and miserable with your life. 

Chishiya is a complicated person. You know that deep inside, he has learned to care for you. Even for a little bit. Well, that’s what you try to believe.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” You say to Arisu when you are done venting. 

Arisu smiles and sighs. 

“Our plan, Y/N. It’s dangerous and I understand him.”

You sniffed and paused. “You think I’m incapable too?”

His eyes widened and he shook his head violently. “No. No. That’s not what I meant.” You chuckled at his troubled facial expressions. 

“I meant that if I cared about someone, I wouldn’t want them in danger.” He explains himself. 

You went quiet after those words. Was it possible? Was it possible that Chishiya was ignoring and pushing you away in Borderlands because he… cared? 

You don’t want to hope… but god do you want to. 

“He hasn’t seen you in those games. You are more than capable, Y/N. I know it. But I know that if I had the option, I won’t risk putting my friend in danger.” 

You nod, taking in his words with understanding. You want to believe that Arisu was right. You want to trust Chishiya. But could you? Do you really know the man behind the rose-colored glasses you wear when you see him? 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

That night, you stayed with Arisu in his room after arguing with Arisu to let you sleep on the couch instead of his bed. You only didn’t want to risk seeing Chishiya if you went back to yours, especially when his room was a couple of doors down from yours. And you were too tired that you just wanted to crash. 

As you stare at the ceiling of the room and feel the digging of your shoulder blades and hips on the couch, you think about the person you and Chishiya were before Borderlands. It hasn’t been long but you’ve already found yourself comfortable with sleeping anywhere, not bathing for days, and hardly eating anything at all. You hadn’t faced any of these hardships. 

Arisu was already awake when knocking on his door woke you up from your slumber on his couch. You stirred yourself awake and stood up from the couch. 

“Kuina,” you hear him say as he opens the door. 

You rise to your feet and head to the door. Kuina’s stare lingers at your recently woken-up form but waves at you and greets you anyway. You wave back.

Kuina whispers something to Arisu and he nods then looks back at you. “Y/N. You can follow Kuina after you’ve fixed yourself, okay?” 

You hate this. You felt like a child being taken care of. 

Kuina guides you outside the building after being holed up inside your room for the day. It seemed like the plan was a success and you were just waiting for the others.

You tap your foot repeatedly to aid your nerves. Kuina stood beside you quietly, chewing on her stick. 

“It’s really hard not to have a smoke right now,” she sighs and talks to no one in particular. 

“What’s taking them so long?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

As if on cue, Chishiya walks out of the building with his hands in his pockets. You frown when there was no one who followed him next, no sign of the shaggy-haired boy and the athletic girl you’ve grown to love.

“I guess it’s time to say goodbye to this too.” Chishiya removes the band from his wrist indicating his ranking among the executives. 

You follow him with your gaze but look behind him from time to time. 

“Where’s Arisu? Usagi?” You ask him, worry evident in your tone. 

Chishiya stares at you, looking at you with those unfeeling and unemotional eyes. You stare back at them, trying to decipher what he means. And then it hits you.

“No,” you breathe out. 

You look at the girl beside you who hung her head low, not being able to look at you.

“Kuina?” Your voice weakened. 

Your heart sunk to your stomach. Anger filled your senses and for the very first time ever, you felt hatred for the man in front of you. 

“You sacrificed them?!” 

He looks away. “It was the only way.” 

“They’re my friends,” you complain with a heavy heart. “Arisu is my friend.” 

“I feel really bad for them, Chishiya,” Kuina adds. 

His gaze flits back to you. “Oh, is that why you ran to your friend’s room for the night after our argument?” 

How did he know that? But why does he care?

“Yes. Because unlike you, he gives a shit about me.” You answer with spite. “How could you do this to him? To me? Is this why you didn’t include me in the plans? Because you know I’ll stop you?” 

Chishiya doesn’t answer for a while. Silence fills the void between the two of you. Kuina stays silent by your side, watching the scene unfold with her eyes. 

“Then go.”

His words held no emotion as he stared at you deadly.

“I betrayed them so we can go out. The three of us. But if you want to go, then go. Help them. I don’t care.” 

You look at him and then back to the building. Arisu and Usagi were probably being held by the militants right now. You’ll be outnumbered and caught. But what were you going to do? Go with Chishiya and leave them to die? You thought about the awful things they would’ve done to the three of you if it wasn’t for Hatter stopping them and you felt sick to your stomach. This was not the game. You aren’t supposed to kill and betray unless you were forced to in a game. 

Arisu and Usagi are your friends. Chishiya is your friend. You’ve never had real friends before, at least no one really felt like they were. Arisu and Usagi were the first people who made you feel like they were happy to be your friend. 

You can’t leave your friends. 

“You have the cards, right?” You ask him.

He smirks. “Of course, I do.” 

He says it with confidence like he has the ticket to the way out of Borderlands. With this, he was so sure that you’d have to come out of him. So you can go out. That was what he believed you wanted—that you wanted to go back to your life before. 

But he was wrong. 

“Then you’ll be fine.” 

His eyes widened for a second before they turned to something different. They weren’t as dark or lifeless as they usually are. Instead, you could almost see a hint of surprise and maybe even hurt spread across his eyes. 

You jump to him and wrap your arms around the man. How many times have you hugged him? You could probably count it with your hands. So you take it in, close your eyes, and try to engrave the feeling in your brain.

“Take care of my parents and the hospitals, yeah?” You whisper in his ear and hold on for five more seconds before completely letting him go.

“Kuina, look out for him, please?” You ask the tall girl but don’t wait for her answer.

Chishiya still stares at you, unspeaking. You look at him one more time and give him a sad smile with tears in your eyes before turning around. You’re afraid that if you look back again, you’ll run to his arms once more and cry about how much you love him.

He doesn’t care if you do. It’s better for you to leave him.

He has the cards now which means he’ll be fine. He can get out of here. If there was someone who can, it was him. 

He has no purpose for you anymore and you’ll only be a burden. 

With that, you run back inside the building. 

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only in ao3 under the name vantantae. thank you.

liability

levi ackerman x f!reader

summary: the tables are turned when you save Levi during a mission, nearly getting yourself killed in the process. he's furious, but you don't quite understand why.

word count: 1.6k

content: feels, confessions, kissing

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

You startle as the heavy wooden door to the room bursts open, hinges groaning weakly in protest as Levi strides in, slamming it just as hard behind him. The warm glow from the small lantern sitting on the desk beside you contrasts sharply with the cold steel of the eyes it illuminates when he comes to stand before you, everything about his posture conveying the extent of the anger roiling dangerously inside of him. 

Carefully closing the notebook you were recording field notes in for Hange, you let go of the pencil in your hand and try to ignore how uncharacteristically ruffled Levi’s hair is, as if he’s been repeatedly dragging his hands through it. You quell your urge to comment on it—because any other day, you’d make a remark just to get a rise out of him.

But you know better than to poke the bear right now, not when you’re well aware you’re the origin point of the fury that he’s outright shaking with. A trail of dried blood remains crusted to the side of his face, matching the dark stains along the torn and tattered remains of his dark green cloak. 

He almost died today.

And so did you.

“That you were about to be Titan food if nobody stepped in to help you,” you offer in a flat tone, arms crossed over your chest.

Levi clicks his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, swiping a thumb across the cut on his bottom lip as he continues to level you with that piercing stare. “I was fine,” he snaps.

He was two seconds from being torn to shreds by the three Titans that cornered him while he fought to re-engage his malfunctioning ODM gear, and if you hadn’t come ricocheting through the trees to distract them, humanity may have very well finally lost its strongest soldier.

You tell him as much, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation, and he takes a step toward you, borderline shouting, “I told you to stand the fuck down.”

He had.

You’d locked eyes with him the moment you careened through the thick cover of the branches, had clearly heard what he shouted at you the moment he realized what you were about to do—and you’d promptly ignored his command.

“I didn’t hear you,” you shrug, though you both know it for the bald lie that it is.

He moves closer.

“I’m your Captain, and I gave you a goddamn order.”

“It was a shitty order. You would have died,” you retort.

Levi nearly closes the distance between the two of you, your back pressing against the wall behind you as the toes of his boots scuff against your own. With one hand splayed flat on the surface beside your head, his breath is hot on your face as he seethes, “You almost died.”

A Titan had grabbed you, almost crushing you to death in the process as your fingers fumbled for purchase on your sword, hoping that your last remaining blade would hold out. You hadn’t had time to think through a solid plan, your body having jumped into action without a second thought the moment you realized Levi was well and truly fucked when you could no longer see and hear him soaring through the air. So you’d acted on pure instinct, buying Levi the precious moments he needed to get his gear back in working order, and he’d then immediately killed the Titan that had you in its grip.

It was fine. You both survived.

Barely.

You’d hardly had time to say a word to Levi afterward, both of you caught up in rejoining the main fray of the battle alongside your fellow Scouts.

“I’m fine,” you counter, turning your head to the side to break the intense eye contact.

Levi grasps your chin, turning your head to face him again, mouth set in a hard line. “You’re reckless,” he growls. 

You sigh in annoyance, fighting a losing battle to temper down your body’s reaction to Levi’s close proximity, the whisper of his body heat like a beacon to your tired, weary bones. 

Right.

So maybe your reckless decision wasn’t just made out of the goodness of your heart as a Scout, but also was heavily inspired by one inescapable, undeniable fact—you’re in love with Levi Ackerman.

Your crush had been innocent enough at first, a bright flare of feelings sparking to life inside of you the first time you watched the way he effortlessly operates on missions. One would have thought that, as you became familiar with his cold and merciless demeanor up close, his piss poor attitude with you and your fellow Scouts would help quell the frantic beating of your heart every time he was in your proximity.

But that wasn’t the case, not at all.

Rather, you found yourself even more drawn to him, craving the few and far between moments when you’d catch him letting his guard down. The moments when, despite his scathing remarks, it was abundantly clear just how much he cared about each and every member of the Scout Regiment.

The moments when you saw just how far he’d go to protect those closest to him. 

And when you found yourself transferred to run under Levi’s command, stamping down on the inconvenient, endlessly smoldering embers of your laughably unrequited crush only became more difficult as you were forced into even closer quarters with him than ever before. The only thing that helped after that was Levi’s unfailing tendency to express one of only two emotions toward you at all times: stark indifference or annoyed exasperation. 

Unable to formulate a smart response to snap into the scant space remaining between your mouths, you mutter, “You’re reckless, too.”

Levi places his other hand on the wall on the other side of your head, effectively caging you in, his hair brushing against your forehead. “Well you can’t be,” he seethes.

“I’d argue that your life matters more than most of the others here,” you offer plainly, meaning every word.

“Not to me.”

You roll your eyes, “Self-deprecation doesn’t suit you, Capt—”

“Your life matters more to me,” he cuts you off roughly, voice nearly breaking.

If it weren’t for the steady pressure of the wall holding you up, you would have swayed. “What?”

One of his hands curls into a fist, his eyes falling shut for a moment as he takes a deep, steadying breath. “I was furious when you were switched into my squad.”

Yeah, he’d been downright incorrigible for days.

“I noticed,” you comment, deflating slightly. 

Your life? The lives of your fellow Scouts, of all of you. 

Of course.

“That’s not what I…” He stares at you, eyebrows knitting together, a strange expression on his face. “You don’t know, do you?” Stormy slate softens to the soft gray hue of the skies after a storm as his eyes scan your face. 

“I know that I annoy you to no end and you spent weeks petitioning Erwin to move me elsewhere,” you roll your eyes.

“Because my feelings make me a liability on the field with you under my command.”

Blood rushes in your ears, and your next words are so tentative, so small, “Your feelings?”

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly underestimating just how unbelievable the words coming out of his mouth are. “I can’t think straight around you,” he chokes out, his forehead falling against yours.

“But you…” you trail off, trying to reconcile the conflicting meaning of what he’s saying with what you’ve come to believe for so long. 

“I’ve been trying to avoid this, how I feel, because it wouldn’t be fair to you. It’s why I…act the way I do around you.”

Idly, you wonder if it’s actually possible to forget how to breathe. “What do you want, Levi?” you ask quietly, carefully placing a hand over his chest, his heart beating steadily behind his ribcage. 

He covers your hand with his own and murmurs, “Something that would be really goddamn selfish in the grand scheme of things,” glancing down at the winged emblem on his jacket.

“And what if I want you to be selfish?”

A sharp inhale from Levi is your only warning before he cups your face in his hands and brings his lips crashing into yours. 

Your body sinks into his embrace as he wraps you up in his arms, fingers splayed possessively along the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you hard, like he’s trying to convey everything that he’s been holding back, every touch he’s denied himself in your presence. 

The cinders in your chest ignite, burning hotter with each press of his plush lips against yours, each nip of his teeth along your bottom lip. His fingertips are a searing brand on your waist as he grasps your hip, tugging out a small, needy whine from your lips in return, and his warm, answering chuckle has your legs threatening to give out beneath you. 

You both freeze suddenly at the sound of two rapid knocks against the door, followed by the sound of Hange calling out, “Hey, did you want to go over those notes?”

The look Levi gives your notebook, innocently sitting atop the table, is downright scathing as he barks out, “She’s busy.”

“Levi?” Hange asks, tone brimming with curiosity.

“We’re busy,” he exhales, tilting his head up toward the ceiling in annoyance.

The answering noise that leaves Hange’s mouth can only be described as complete and total delight as they laugh before walking away, footsteps pointedly loud as they make their way back down the hallway.

Realizing that you had actually noted a few important things regarding new discoveries on Titan behavior, your eyes stray back to the notebook, uncertain. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just…”

“Absolutely not,” Levi cuts you off brusquely with another searing kiss, tugging you toward the bed in the corner of the room. “You’re mine tonight.”

♡ Expendable Hearts: Masterlist ♡

title: expendable hearts pairing: levi ackerman x ex! afab reader genre: angst, fluff, romantic comedy (i'll try my best), exes to lovers, enemies to lovers, inspired by our beloved summer (kdrama), alternative universe - modern setting, college setting as flashbacks, mutual pining, mc is dumb, levi is dumb, they're both dumb warnings: eventual smut. probably won't use "y/n" very much. specifics and other warnings will be added each part. status: ongoing

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.

CHAPTERS

1: windex and baking soda (7.1k words) 2: wedding invitations (8.6k words) 3: ten things i hate about you (7.4k words) 4: earl grey (7.1k words) 5: paradis city (7.1k words) 6: busy nights (6.6k words)

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