wolfvmin

[wolfvmin]

after hours, part one — myg [m]

⤷ summary. staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

pairing. fuckboy!basketball captain!min yoongi x fem!reader

genre. smut (18+), angst, fluff, fuckboy au, college au, unrequited love au.

» please don’t flag this post. if u don’t like it, just scroll. don’t be petty and flag creator’s posts, if u do that, ur not fücking cool 👎

warnings. fuckboy!yoongi, friends (more like aquaintences?) with benefits, major angst (it’s worse on the second part but there’s still a lot of it), fluff (weird, right?), unrequited love, yoongi is hot in this but he’s a bit of an asshole, basketball captain!yoongi, fuckboy!yoongi needs its own warning, explicit language (cursing, sexual talk, etc), reader suffers so much that i feel kinda bad, quite toxic friendships, yoongi is a teeeeease, bed !! sharing !!, yuri is a pain in the ass, everyone wants yoongi like damn, yoongi smokes cigarettes, smut, (oh boyyyyy), two s*x scenes, a LOT dirty talk, dom!yoongi, sub!reader, some dom/sub themes, dumbification, disgusting pet names (doll, baby girl, baby, y’all know the drill), äss play (f. receiving), n*pple play, humiliation, degrädation kïnk, cūnnilingus, rough sēx, yoongi lowkey has a begging k*nk, fīnger^ng, protected sęx (be smart like them), mentions of unprotected s*x and creampies, m^ssīonãry + c*wgirl pøsition, cúm swãllowing + eating, sn*wballing, semi-public sēx (they do it in the men’s locker room hehe), p*ssy eating, blowjob, face-fúcking, big d*ćk yoongi, wet n messy sêx.

word count. 25.3k 💌 (my finger slipped)

note. goddamn. i can’t believe this fic is finally out !! (part one only but still). I have literally put my blood, sweat and tears (lol) into this :’) after a lot of research on how basketball works bc i had never actually seen a basketball game and a fucking lot of drafting and re-writing, it’s here ahhhh !! this yoongi is the fucking hottest i swear and i am actually in love, even if he is a bit of an asshole :p hope u guys love this fic as much as i do and enjoy the ride <3 and a hugeeeee thank u to my love @jjkeverlast for beta’ing this fic !! love u so so much, ur the best ever 💌 part 2 will come out in about 2 weeks.

please leave feedback if u can <3 it truly motivates me to continue and i’d love to hear all ur thoughts on this fic so let’s talk about it 🫧♡

links. main masterlist ; taglist

You probably should have gone to the party that your best friend told you about.

But you were too emotionally drained from all the studying, and the last thing you needed was a social gathering you knew would only suck you out of your energy even more.

You’ve been so exhausted lately— your lectures have turned difficult, and your time has lately been consumed by either studying or your classes.

And so, you’re alone on a Friday night inside your shared apartment, watching some trashy TV romance while eating microwave popcorn and wearing your Spongebob Squarepants knee-socks.

Imagine your surprise once you hear the doorbell ring when you’re not expecting anyone tonight—your best friend is at that damn frat party, you didn’t order takeout just yet, and it’s not like you have a lot of intimate friends other than Yuri.

You reluctantly open the door, silently hoping no serial killer would be on the other side, but no, it’s even worse.

“Yoongi?” You ask, almost gasping, but you’re too tired for your body to show any signs of strong emotions when meeting the man you secretly longed to see.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asks, and you’re almost sure you pick up something of concern in his smooth voice, but you know it’s only your hallucination. You know for a fact that Yoongi doesn’t care for his hookups, or in other words, you.

You first met him during a party, and you were enamoured by his captivating brown eyes the minute they met yours.

You had heard about him before. The notorious fuckboy slash basketball captain that caught many hearts in his hands and squeezed them to death.

You promised yourself you would never acquaint yourself with him. The stories you heard, makes him out to be the worst monster of them all inside your head, with ugly green eyes that were ready to eat anyone who had a pussy.

And who ate women’s hearts until there was nothing red left.

But who knew such a monster could be so incredibly beautiful in ways you had never dreamed of?

But maybe that’s why he was such a nightmare; why he had such ease in luring prey into his deadly trap.

You got tipsy from the beers that were passed around to your hands by your best friend, and you went from making many eye contacts with a certain basketball player to him fucking you hard on the back of his car, while your best friend, Yuri explored the whole house in search for the black-haired boy you were under.

At the time, you didn’t understand how his eyes fell on you instead of on your best friend, who was much prettier than you and looked at him through the rose-coloured glasses you would only months later after that night.

However, you now get why his eyes fell on you.

You had a ‘good girl’ image and anyone that laid their eyes on you could sense a sort of naiveness that Yoongi craved.

He lived for it.

And you were just another one of his prey. A piece of meat he would then soon discard after he sucked every last bit of the blood inside your system.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t be like them. That you wouldn’t fall for his deadly charm like other girls did. You thought you were different from them, until a few months later, when you were grabbing some take-out after a heavy secret make-out session in his car.

When he flashed you his beautiful gummy smile. Your world stopped and everything came crashing down when you realised you were in love with the devil, that is Min Yoongi, and he caught your heart with his deadly hands just like other girls.

Knowing you are in love with another human is supposed to be euphoric, the poets say.

The sonnets describe how swelled up in sheer giddiness you must be from experiencing such a powerful, deep emotion for your significant other.

And you knew you were doomed because when you realised your heart only beats for Yoongi, it only made you hurt in ways that left you crying for days. So much so, that time became nonexistent and days bled into another as you grieved for the loss of your own heart that you stupidly let him take away from you.

You weren’t different from the others—you weren’t the one special enough to change Min Yoongi’s heart. To make him love you.

And you only push the dagger an inch more into your bleeding heart every time you continue to sleep with him, knowing you will never get his heart to heal you in ways you so desire.

No one knows of your affair, and you were the one who wanted to keep it that way. If anybody knew, you would be cast away in other people’s as nothing more than another one of Yoongi’s many hookups, and even worse, if your best friend found out she would have your head.

Yuri was always a jealous woman—the men she hooked up with, which was a very good amount, she got angry with the woman they would kiss a week later, and would always make their lives a living hell in the most subtle of ways.

And the ones whom Min Yoongi hooked up with were the ones that had it the worst.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” You put your mouth before your lips, yawning while talking, eyes blood-red from the exhaustion you feel.

Your sleepy eyes follow his frame up and down, and you can see he isn’t in his usual ‘asshole’ attire, as you would joke with Yuri—instead, he wears grey sweats and a simple, plain white tee shirt. You could even mistake him for a good guy if you didn’t already know the malicious intentions behind the fiery brown eyes you’ve regretfully grown to find beautiful.

But what catches your attention is the jewellery that stayed intact—two thin silver chains around his neck (he usually wears more extravagant ones), bracelets on his pulse, and his signature rings on his fingers.

If you hadn’t looked down to rapidly inspect his veiny, ring-filled fingers, you wouldn't be able to find one specific piece of jewellery that makes your lungs almost break and your breath to be taken away.

It’s the ring you gave him for his birthday a few months ago.

“What’s this?” Yoongi furrows his eyebrows as he slowly takes the small box out of the small plastic bag, and you feel your palms sweating from the anticipation and nervousness that swallows you whole.

“Um. Just something for your, uh, birthday.” You clear your throat, and Yoongi lifts his head to arch one of his eyebrows.

“My birthday was a week ago.”

You roll your eyes, “I know that, dickhead. Did you know I had to find out from Yuri, who heard from Mina, who had to hear after fucking Jungkook—“

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Yoongi chuckles, and you let out a heavy sigh as you watch him inspect the little plastic black box on his fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cross your arms, and Yoongi chuckles. He can almost hear your pout while he slowly opens the box and places the lid on his lap.

“Didn’t think you’d care.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, and you scoff silently—could he be even more dense?

“Of course, I would care, idiot. I have to give a present to the man who’s made me come so many times. It’s the least I could do.” You scoff, and Yoongi laughs loudly.

It’s a laugh you don’t usually hear from Yoongi’s pretty lips. He usually only chuckles with you, never showing the smile you so adore, and now your heart flutters and your stomach turns at the sensation that overwhelms your chest when you watch such a rare scene in front of you.

He isn’t chuckling or smirking. But laughing. At something you said.

You couldn’t think your heart could fall even deeper into the depths of your doom, yet one smile from his cherry lips already has you even deeper than before.

You’re entering a rabbit’s hole by letting yourself stupidly fall for Min Yoongi, and at this point in time, you don’t know how or even if you can get out.

You clear your throat, your heart beating fast as you watch Yoongi observe the present.

It’s a ring, one you found in a cheap jewellery store that is beside the little coffee shop you work for, and you immediately thought of Yoongi when you saw it. You know he likes his jewellery and this one was much cheaper than the ones he usually buys.

You’re nervous, your erratic heartbeat pulsating in your ear as you wait for his reaction. Will he hate it? Will he discard it as soon as he—

“Shit. I love it.” Yoongi chuckles, putting the ring on one of his only free fingers, the middle finger. “Thanks, doll. I appreciate it.”

You can’t help the warmth inside your heart at his words, relief washing down all the previous anxiety on your nerves.

“Want a birthday blowjob, too?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

Yoongi opens his mouth to answer you, but you cut him off, rubbing your sleepy eyes while trying to keep your mouth from yawning once again, “If you came here for sex, I really can’t do it tonight; I’m busy—”

“Studying?” Yoongi raises his eyebrows, and you sigh, nodding your head while groaning, “Well, you always say that, and next thing you’re begging me to make you cum.”

You cringe at his lewd words, “What the fuck, can you not say things like that? Pervert.” You roll your eyes, and Yoongi laughs, throwing the smile that never fails to make your stomach turn and your heart flutter in ways you only experience with him.

“And no, I’m not studying this time. I’m just watching some TV before going to sleep.” You grumble, and Yoongi fake gasps, dramatically opening his mouth to drag out the gasp more than it needs to, and you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh, is Miss goody-two-shoes actually having time for herself, hm?” Yoongi teases, a small smile tugging on his lips, and you try to fight the butterflies that flap in your stomach with a small scoff.

You shouldn’t be feeling this.

You know Yoongi only sees you as another one of his hook-ups, one he doesn’t care for, only only when you have what he needs, when he needs it.

Your brain knows that, but your heart chooses to ignore it when it hopelessly flutters for him every time he kisses you as if you were his, and sinks to your stomach every time he leaves you that same night.

You’ve made many mistakes in your life, but falling for Min Yoongi must be the worst of them all.

Your everything sings for him, for the three words out of his lips, but his heart would never hear your melodies as you wish so much. And every day that passes a piece of you is taken away, a reminder of your fatal mistake that is loving a man that only sees you as meat and is blind for your soul that calls for his.

You should have never let your heart become such an open book, filled with unspoken words of affection for him, a man who never had the desire to open you, to read you in ways you so ached for.

And you still lie here, sinking in a sea of hurt, choking on your blood every time you accept Yoongi into your heart for the sake of having him beside you, for having the pleasure of touching him. Even if the fog of lust blinds his eyes and you can only wish for him to see you as clearly as you see him.

“I’m just too tired to study.” You yawn, and Yoongi leans in, barging inside your territory and into the uncharted waters of your hopeless heart—even if he doesn’t know it.

“Y’know what would make you relax?” One of his brows goes up, and he bites his pink lips, lust fogging his eyes in the way you already know.

He’s the diesel that ignites an unwanted fire in your heart, and he’s the only hazard that can make you hot with desire in mere seconds.

You put your index finger on his chest and push him away from you, and he only chuckles, amused by your response. “Nope. Not today, Min.”

“Alright.” Yoongi pouts slightly, putting his hands in his pockets—how can this man be so hot yet cute? He’s messing with your head, and you don’t like it one bit. “Can I at least come in to watch some Netflix? Or whatever you were watching.”

“Why the hell should I let you in?” You raise one eyebrow, challenging him, and Yoongi hums.

“Good question. Well, I’m fucking bored. I have nothing to do tonight.”

“That’s bullshit.” You scoff, and Yoongi furrows his eyebrows, “There’s a party at one of your friend’s frat parties. You could easily just go there.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“The fuck? What happened to you?” You snort, and Yoongi sighs.

Yoongi was always at a party on or off campus. It was where he sought his next prey, one that looked innocent enough to fall for his charms. And, unfortunately, you were one of them.

“I told you, I’m not in the mood, doll.” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “I just wanna watch something to cure my boredom, and I saw you were online. But if you want me to go, I will.”

“And the first thought was to come here and annoy me?” You click your tongue, and when Yoongi playfully pouts again, your heart gives out like the weak woman you are. “Fine, okay. But no funny business, k?”

“Pinky promise.” Yoongi raises his pinky, and you scrunch your eyebrows, looking at his hand with uncertainty before you wrap your pinky around his.

“Alright, get in.”

It’s a mistake, you know it, the universe knows it—but your body can’t help but jump at any opportunity that opens where you have him for yourself. Where you’re alone with him, without the rest of the world yelling at you just how hurt you will be, just how wrong it is to have feelings Yoongi.

“Holy fuck. Are those Spongebob knee-socks?” Yoongi laughs, and heat covers your chest in embarrassment.

Oh fuck.

You forgot about those.

“They are very comfortable, okay? Shut up. You can go away if you’re just gonna annoy me like that.”

“Sorry, doll. They’re cute. Very you style.”

You pause at that, “Me style? What the hell does that mean?”

Yoongi shrugs, “They’re just very you. Dunno how to explain it.”

You give him a suspicious look before whispering a small ‘okay’, ignoring the butterflies that fly around the flowers that bloom inside your heart, and you can only hope they won’t be poison to your soul.

He follows you to the sofa after you lock your door, and once he sees what is on your TV, he can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“You’re watching the notebook?”

“Don’t you dare shame me. This movie is a fucking masterpiece.” You huff as you sit on the corner of the couch, and Yoongi chuckles, sitting on the other side, and you’re grateful for the distance between your bodies.

You wouldn’t even want to know how your night would end if he had sitten next to you.

“You got lucky. I literally just started watching it.”

The movie plays, and two hours go by like nothing as you engross yourself with the movie. You couldn’t help yourself to catch glimpses of Yoongi as you both watched the film, your eyes scanning every inch of his beautiful face, your heart screaming for his body to get closer to yours, for you to feel his warmth as if he were yours.

You were completely, utterly mesmerized by the beautiful features that adorn his face. His eyes, twin embers that completely take hold of your being, stop the breath of your lungs, and you can’t function.

You begin to wonder, entering the deadly waters that are to imagine—what would it be like if he were yours?

You yearn to speak, to unveil your heart and get rid of this burden that is carrying this love in silence.

Yet your words falter, and you can’t seem to find your voice in his presence.

How could you tell your heart beats for him when all he will do is slip through your hands when the words come out of your mouth?

You need more time with him until you have the courage to let him go.

The film finishes and you can sense your eyes and throat stinging from the last scene. Fuck, why did you choose such an emotional film?

“Doll, are you crying?” Yoongi teases with a chuckle, and you grab a pillow, throwing it on his face with all the force you have in your arms.

“Shut the f-fuck up.” You sniffle, and Yoongi continues laughing.

“Asshole.” You scoff, and Yoongi continues to giggle for a little while before you feel a sudden presence beside you. Arms wrap around your crying frame, and your head falls to a chest. His chest.

“I had no idea you were so emotional,” Yoongi chuckles, and you cry even more when you feel slow taps on your head.

The film is long forgotten inside your head, and silent tears fall to your cheeks as your heart pleads for this to be real, for this to last forever, for time to stop and for you to stay here, with him, just like this.

As if he were yours.

As if you were together.

“God,” You sniffle while rubbing your runny nose, “This is embarrassing. Ugh.”

“Nah, it’s not. It would be worse if you were an ugly crier.” Yoongi laughs lightly, and you smack his chest while letting out a small chuckle.

“I can’t believe you’re not crying.” Yoongi continues to pat your head, and you can’t help but feel this is oddly domestic. It feels natural, so right that your heart can’t help but ease into the fog of hope that everything will be okay.

It’s dangerous, to forget about the pain in your heart, and maybe you will pay the price later.

“I don’t cry, doll.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, you’re the cold fuckboy without feelings and all that.”

Yoongi snorts, “Yeah.”

“Y’know, crying doesn’t make you weak. Just saying. It can actually make you much more relieved. It’s therapeutic.”

Yoongi hums, “I just haven’t felt like crying in a long time.”

You should let go already.

Staying like this, under his arms when you’re so vulnerable is dangerous. But no sense of danger would ever compare to the feeling of letting yourself go, of falling without the fear of reaching the ground.

“What’s your favourite fruit?”

You furrow your eyebrows and almost laugh at the question, “What?”

“I asked what your favourite fruit is.”

“Uh, I heard it. Why? That’s so random, dude.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, “I’m not good at dealing with people crying. I’m trying my best here, damn.”

You chuckle, “Aw, that’s cute of you.”

“Shut up and answer the damn question.”

“Jeez okay,” you snort at his defensiveness—maybe you should call him cute more often. “Hm, I’d say apples.”

“Ew.” Yoongi scrunches his face, “Tangerines are so much better.”

“I’m guessing that’s your favourite fruit?” Your lips tug into a small smile while you feel your small tears dry up.

“Fuck yeah, they’re the best thing in this world.”

“They taste disgusting.” You make a small gag sound, and Yoongi scoffs at your words. “Makes sense why you like them.”

“Are you calling me disgusting?” Yoongi stops patting your head, and you can’t help the smirk on your lips.

Teasing and getting on Yoongi’s nerves is your favourite pastime—he falls right into your trap, and you absolutely love it. Who would have thought a man with a reputation such as his could be so easy to lure onto your trap?

“Mmm, maybe.”

You finally have the courage to take your head off his chest, and when your eyes catch him, you feel the world stop. Time is nothing and the universe is only inside his eyes.

“Mm, I’m not so disgusting when you let me fuck you, now am I, doll?” Yoongi chuckles, and you bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his.

“You have a good dick, what can I say?” You shrug, trying hard to contain your smile when his tongue presses on his cheek.

“Fuck, doll. Can I kiss you?” Yoongi whispers, placing his hand on your cheeks.

Your heartbeat picks up its pace.

“You pinky promised no funny business, Yoongi.” You whisper back, eyes falling to his luscious mouth.

“But this isn’t anything funny,” Yoongi smirks lazily and you scoff.

“Fuck you.” Your hand grabs his black t-shirt, and his addicting lips are on yours in mere seconds.

Fuck you for making me feel this way. Fuck you for distracting me. Fuck you for letting me fall in love with you.

The kiss is hard, lust-filled and so passionate, you could even mistake it for two lovers who haven’t seen each other in so many years.

You’re so caught up in your lust-drunken haze, you don’t know how you’re straddling his lap, with lips devouring the skin of your neck, claiming what Yoongi doesn’t know is already, completely, secretly his.

“Fuck, you have no idea—“ Yoongi groans, and feel his veiny hands travelling down past your shorts, and all you can think of is the heavenly feeling of his fingers tracing your skin as he kisses you with all the fire in the world. “How much I missed all of this.”

Shivers run through your spine, and you throw your head back when you feel his index finger slowly rubbing your sensitive nub.

“What’s your safe word, hm?” Yoongi asks between wet kisses on your collarbone, and you mutter a small ‘purple’, a small smirk on his lips as he kisses all the way back to your neglected mouth.

“Good girl,” He whispers to your ear, and you let out a little yelp when he lightly slaps your clit, “Let’s go to your bedroom, hm?”

“I’m way too lazy for that.” You whisper through wet kisses, and Yoongi chuckles, one of his ring-filled hands finding your butt and squeezing it.

You gasp slightly, and Yoongi bites his tongue, a cocky smirk tugging on his lips, “Love this fuckin’ ass. Did you miss me, baby?”

“Nah, not really. Had my showerhead to keep me company.” You tease, and Yoongi bites his lip before kissing you so fiercely, your breath suddenly goes away.

“You’re such a bad liar, doll,” Yoongi whispers on your lips, and your heart surrenders once more.

You told yourself you wouldn’t fall for his charm again, that you would fight the desire that took hold of your body whenever you saw him.

And now, all you need is to be taken care of by the hands you so long for. Have yourself forget the pain that sinks your heart to the depths of the seas of unrequited love, even if just for one night.

One last night, you tell yourself.

Those words are almost a ritual in your mind now whenever you and Yoongi sleep together, always promising that it will be the last night you end up fucking, that you will move on and grab the heart from his hands that is rightfully yours.

Yoongi suddenly gets up and you immediately wrap your legs around his small waist.

You’re thrown on your mattress once you’re inside your small bedroom, and before you could even groan from the contact with your back, Yoongi’s red lips catch yours in a rough, demanding kiss.

You’re about to take off your knee socks, but Yoongi gently grabs your arm, restricting any more movement.

“Keep ‘em.”

“You sure?”

“I told you. They’re cute.” Yoongi smirks at your flushed reaction, and you clear your throat before whispering a small ‘okay’ and shifting to your previous position.

His hand is under your shorts once more, and you gasp once you feel two fingers taking a stripe of your slit, “Pussy is so fucking wet already, and you still had the audacity to say you didn’t miss me.”

“I did—didn’t.”

“Fucking liar.” Yoongi brings his hand to his red lips, sucking on them at a slow pace while never taking his brown eyes off yours. You can’t take the throb on your clit, so you rub your thighs together, but Yoongi pulls them apart once again.

“Lemme see this pussy.” He spreads your legs, and you gasp at how far apart they are, at how your pussy is on display just for him.

Yoongi licks his lip, as if a predator staring at his meal after starving for so long, “Wanna eat you out. Can I?”

“Fuck yes.” You moan, biting your lip, and Yoongi places a small slap on your clit.

You gasp, and Yoongi smiles smugly.

“Where’s the magic word, doll?”

You almost roll your eyes, but you are too fucking horny to take any more punishment and teasing from him.

“Please. Please eat me out, Yoongi.”

Yoongi lowers his head to your sex slowly, “Now that’s my good girl.”

Fuck. You could have folded right there.

“Can I take your shirt off first? Wanna see those tits,” Yoongi’s hand gropes at one of your breasts, and once you nod your head, he wastes no time in taking your top off and throwing it to the other side of your room.

Yoongi is quick to take one of your tits into his eager mouth, sucking harshly and letting his tongue flicker on your nipple. His other hand grabs your other breast, beginning to harshly knead it and squeeze it under his palm.

All you can do is whimper under his desperate touches, your body squirming in the sheer pleasure of having his touch on your sensitive nipples.

Yoongi takes his mouth out of your breast with a lewd pop, his hungry eyes looking deeply into yours as he whispers, “Always so sensitive for me.”

You bite your lips as he trails kisses down your skin, his tongue feeling up your skin, until he finally stops when he richest the end of your stomach. You inhale sharply, and Yoongi smirks before parting your legs as far as you can and taking a big stripe of your wet pussy.

You immediately shudder, a small moan slipping your slips, “Yoongi.”

Yoongi whispers a small “My good girl,” and you feel your stomach turning from the overwhelming butterflies that rapidly flutter their wings inside it.

Yoongi suddenly spits on your cunt, his saliva dripping on your pussy lips and onto your thighs. His tongue kitten licks all of your wetness, leaving you aching for more.

You know he’s only doing this to tease you, to break you, and if you weren’t so desperate for him, maybe you would have resisted longer.

“Stop f-fucking teasing.” You growl and grab a large piece of his black hair with your palm. Yoongi groans at the sharp pain, and you yelp once you feel a slap to your thighs.

“Patience, doll. You take what I give you, yeah?”

You clench your teeth and squint your eyes, only for you to break your character and moan once you feel his mouth suddenly sucking your throbbing clit.

“Oh—oh fuck.” You let out heavy breaths, your hand caressing Yoongi’s hair as your mind gets lost in the pleasure of Yoongi’s skilful tongue.

One thing you’ve learned about Yoongi is that he loves going down on you, no matter time or place. If you say you want him to eat you out, he’s doing it that fucking second and he won’t stop until you’re squirming helplessly under him.

Your whole pussy has never been exposed, and Yoongi thrusts his tongue into your hole while his fingers start to slowly run your swollen clit.

You can feel your orgasm coming, the stars are close and you’re ready to let go, but Yoongi suddenly pulls his tongue out, leaving you whimpering for his touch again.

“What—“

“Ass up, doll.” Yoongi is taken aback when you follow his instructions with no snarky remark, and you’re on all fours with your ass up like he asked.

His hands trace the curve of your ass, his pianist fingers kneading your skin as he watches you with fascination in his brown, eager eyes that are blinded by the almost suffocating lust for you.

“P-please—“

“Spread that pretty ass for me.” He orders with a sharp spank to your ass, which causes you to shut your eyes and bite your lip in pleasure.

You do what he asks and spread your legs, permitting him to see both your asshole and cunt clearly, and Yoongi bites his lips when he sees the wetness that stains your inner thighs. Yoongi takes off his sneakers and slowly gets in the bed, and you whine at the loss of his touch for such a long time.

You need him to fuel you with more of his addicting diesel.

“What’s got you so quiet, baby girl? Already too dumb to talk back, hm?” Yoongi chuckles, trailing your spine with his ring-filled fingers while calling you out for the lack of your usual brattiness and snarky remarks.

You groan in return as shivers course through your body. “F-Fuck you.”

“Ah, there she is,” Yoongi lets out a breathy chuckle, and you sigh on your pillow at his touch.

“C-Can you not be so rough today? I’m—I’m tired and I wanna get up tomorrow morning.”

If only he knew what kind of tired you really are.

Tired of having your heart stomped on every time you watch his indifferent eyes when he looks at you, tired of having a storm of emotions to a man who feels nothing but carnal desires for you.

Tired of painfully waiting for him to reach an endless deep sea of love instead of the shallow waters of lust whenever he looks at you.

Yoongi hums, trailing his wandering hand back to your butt and he places a small slap on one of your ass cheeks.

“You just wanna be my good girl tonight, then?” Yoongi almost coos at how cute you look when you slowly nod. “You mind if I play with your other hole a little, doll?”

You gasp at his question. No one you’ve ever slept with—which was not many people, anyway—had ever touched that part of your body, nor even came close to it. You never had the desire for it.

But being with Yoongi has made you discover and try many territories you never thought were possible, and how could you say no to him when he asks like that?

“Fuck. Okay. But go slow, or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Yoongi places a small, almost tender kiss on your spine before whispering, “Will do, baby.”

You could get used to these kinds of kisses.

His thumb goes up from your core ever so slowly, tracing the pathway to your asshole with care, and you mewl, digging your head into your pillow when his thumb starts playing with your rim, shivers coursing through every bit of your most sensitive nerves.

“You’re such a slut, aren’t you, doll? Letting me play with your pretty asshole. My little whore.” You mewl at his degrading words.

Never did you think you would enjoy hearing such words from anyone, but he makes it sound so hot when it comes out of his sweet lips.

“Where’s the lube, doll?” Yoongi whispers in your ear, and you let out a trembled sigh.

“It’s in the bathroom.”

Yoongi snorts, “Why’s the lube on the bathroom?”

You chuckle, “My roommate got fucked in the ass there. I had to hear all the details about it.” You roll your eyes at the memory. You couldn’t sleep that day because of your roommate’s screams inside the bathroom beside you.

Yoongi chuckles before slightly slapping your ass, “Be right back.”

Within seconds he’s back to his place from before rubbing the lube on two of his fingers.

“Fuck, you don’t know how obseesed I am with this ass, doll.” You almost scream when he slowly pushes two of his lubed up fingers inside your asshole with no warning, and Yoongi bites his lip to not let out a small moan as he sees you helplessly squirm underneath him. “Everything okay?”

You answer with a nod, and Yoongi hums, continuing the slow assault of his fingers inside your hole. You gasp at the calculated circles around your rim, and you moan into your pillow, “Yoongi.”

Yoongi smirks at his name as a form of a moan in your mouth, “Yes?”

“N-need….” You whimper your words out, your pussy burning with the almost unbearable need of his veiny fingers inside your cunt. For the release he neglected you moments before, “Need your fingers.”

Yoongi chuckles, placing a wet slap on your ass which causes you to gasp and lean your body forward at the sudden contact. You can feel your pussy dripping for him, the wetness staining your thighs.

All pent-up need for him.

“Hm, where do you want ‘em, doll? Gotta be specific.” Yoongi bites his lip, his fingers slowly thrusting on your asshole, and your hand is quick to travel to your lower region.

You spread your pussy lips apart, and Yoongi watches your motions like a hawk, his cock throbbing at the beautiful image of your fingers on your cunt.

His imagination runs wild once he starts thinking how pretty you would look while touching yourself and thinking of nothing else but him. Coming while whispering his name.

Yoongi bites his lip.

“Want ‘em here.”

Yoongi chuckles, his fingers leaving your asshole, “Do it for me, baby. Show me how you touch yourself.”

“What—”

“Come on, aren’t you a big girl? Let me see you touch yourself.” Yoongi slowly creeps his hand up to one of your ass cheeks, and you shiver under his touch.

Min Yoongi is a hazard to your existence, so much so that you’re already crumbling apart by his mere touch to your skin, and you know you won’t last long tonight, not like any other one of your encounters.

Tonight is different, and you’re terrified that your masked out vulnerability might fade away once and for all.

“Yoongi—”

The name of his lips is cut short when you feel his free hand grab your hair harshly, a gasp leaving your mouth at the pain mixed with pleasure that makes your clit pulsate.

“Do it.” Yoongi’s teeth grit, using the deep, raspy voice he knows leaves you weak on the knees, and shivers run from your scalp down every nerve in your body.

You will always be weak in Min Yoongi’s presence, won’t you?

Your hand slowly traces the skin of your stomach, trying to tease the man behind you as much as you can, and you can feel the deadly smirk on his pretty red lips, his cock twitching under his grey sweats.

Your fingers go to your clit, massaging the nub carefully enough to make you gasp on the fabric of your pillow.

You think of the man behind you, of his veiny, ring-filled fingers inside you, of his cock deliciously thrusting inside your pussy, reaching your cervix in the way he knows makes you fall apart.

Just for him.

You mewl, unsatisfied with your own fingers tracing your slit, but no imagination could ever compare to the real thing you want.

You need Yoongi.

His fingers inside you, him touching you in any way possible.

The fight inside you is gone as you fully submit to him, as you ache for him and his touch.

Yoongi can see your dissatisfaction as you continue to rub your clit fast, whines of desperation fleeing your mouth as you try to please yourself but can’t.

“Yoongi,” You whimper, and Yoongi almost closes his eyes from the sheer pleasure that travels down his body. “Your f-fingers. Need your, ah, fingers.”

“Too dumb to do it yourself, hm?” You nod while whining, your mind trapped in too much of a haze to talk back, to prove you aren’t another one of his dumb, fucked-out hookups who’d do anything he asks for.

You are too drunk in the pleasure of having him for yourself.

Too vulnerable to slip out of your daze as easily as you usually do, and you know Yoongi is claiming his victory with a wide smirk as he watches you fall apart before him.

Watches how broken you finally are for him.

“Yoongi.” His name is the only thing that can leave your mouth instead of moans and helpless whimpers.

You are dumb for him, aren’t you?

“You’re a dumb little cockslut, can’t even touch yourself properly,” Yoongi’s laugh is mocking, and you gasp loudly once two of his fingers start rubbing your nub in his expert way, the one which makes your whole body shiver in pure ecstasy. “You wanted this, doll? You wanted my fingers fucking that slutty cunt open?”

“Fuck, yes! Yes, Y-Yoongi.” You helplessly moan as his fingers scissor your pussy lips open for him to enter them inside you.

“Shit, babe, you’re soaking for me. I can fucking hear it.” Yoongi groans, precum staining his sweatpants as his cock twitches at the gushy, lewd sounds of your wet pussy.

His hand sparing no mercy for your cunt as he fingers you hard and fast. Your body shudders in pleasure, your mouth lets out pornographic moans when his thumb rubs your clit, and you clench around his slender, veiny fingers—your orgasm is coming.

And Yoongi knows.

“Does baby girl want to cum?” Yoongi bites his lip and continues his assault on your cunt, thrusting fast in and out of you, the cold metal of his rings hitting your warm walls, and all you can do is nod as you arch your back for him, drunk on his touch, his fingers, and everything that is him.

You’re too fucked out to answer, your toes already curling and your mouth fully open as you ache for the words of confirmation from his lips, which he happily grants.

“Cum for me, doll. You can do it.” Yoongi grunts out, and your mouth creeps up in a fucked out smile your abdomen clenches as your orgasm finally hits you, and you soak Yoongi’s already wet fingers with your cum.

Your mind escapes into a haze as your body unconsciously trembles from the oversensitivity as Yoongi slips his fingers to pinch your clit, testing to see how far you can take it.

“S-Sensitive.” You moan on the pillow, and once Yoongi takes his hand from your pussy, relief washes through your body.

Yet, you still long for them again.

“On your back for me.”

For some miracle, you hear his words under the fog in your mind, and your weak, already fucked out body slowly turns around, but Yoongi is an impatient man and doesn’t waste time by grabbing your waist and flipping you around himself.

Your tired eyes watch as he sucks the wetness on his fingers, moaning while tasting your release and you clench your thighs at the beautifully erotic scene before you.

Yoongi’s lips are suddenly on your jaw, kissing you gently, and you don’t even notice it until his deep voice speaks up during his kisses, “What’s up with you today, ___? You don’t usually end up this fucked out from just my fingers.”

“Told you,” You whine, gasping for any air your restricted lungs can catch, “I’m tired.”

Yoongi silently wonders what got you this tired.

You were always driving yourself crazy for your studies, and he could never understand why you would do it, but you would never get this exhausted. To the point where you completely fell apart for him after only his fingers. It usually took you some time until he could finally break you into his little cockslut.

“Still want to continue?” His tongue tenderly licks your skin as his hand rubs your tummy, a habit he picked up a few weeks ago, doing it after every time you were getting over your high.

And every single time he did it, your chest would find it hard to breathe from the fluttering feeling that crept up on your stomach that eventually found its way into your heart.

“I could just jerk off and call it a night. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” You let out a deep exhale of your breath, and Yoongi nods, placing the faintest butterfly kisses on your neck.

“Whatever you want.”

Your lips curve up in a lop-sided smile, “Fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Oh fuck.”

Yoongi is quick to pull his body off of yours, quickly taking off his sweats, his rock-hard cock springing out of the fabric, hitting his stomach and shirt in the process, and shit, you could have orgasmed again at that mere scene.

The chains on his neck stay, sticking to his slightly sweaty skin, and you feel your pussy throb and almost burn with aches at the sight.

Yoongi throws the grey sweatpants to the floor beside you, and you both flinch at the loud sound that erupts once it hits the floor.

“Oh shit, I forgot my phone was in there.”

“How can you forget that?” You can’t help but let out a snort, and Yoongi lightly laughs with you, your heart missing palpitations, stuttering at the sight of his gummy smile and relaxed shoulders.

Yoongi shrugs, “Too horny to care.”

You both laugh slightly and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if things could stay like this.

No outside world, only two people enjoying their time together, and the absence of the pain that shreds your soul of loving a man who will never love you back.

The laughter dies out, and instead, you find yourself at the loss of words as you mindlessly stare at Yoongi’s pretty cock. It stands proud before you, the tip stained with pre-cum, and pulsating from the pain of his erection, desperate for any stimulation that might lead to his release.

Yoongi’s big and he knows it.

He’s big, longer than the average dick, and he was cocky about it. When you first hooked up, you had to make him stop so you could adjust to the amazing yet slightly painful stretch his long, girthy cock gave you.

“You love my fat cock, don’t you, doll?” Yoongi says through a smirk, pride swelling on his chest as he watches you drool for him, your eyes wide, filled with fascination.

“Mhm,” You nod rapidly, your curious eyes watching his hands wrap around the slit, fingers brushing the vein that pops out of the skin, teasing himself for your hungry eyes.

“Where are the condoms?” Yoongi grunts, more pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock and falling onto your sheets.

“Second drawer.” You point to your only bedside table, and Yoongi is quick to manoeuvre his body to open the drawer and get a condom from the small package.

Yoongi examines the condom and smirks, “You got a large one. Were you expecting this, doll?”

You immediately gulp, turning your head to the side to avoid his piercing gaze, “No.” You click your tongue, “Bought them, like, last week ‘cause my roommate used up everything.”

“Ah, I see.” Yoongi bites his lips. He can see through your lies. He can clearly see the small twitch on your lips twitch whenever you try to lie to him.

Yoongi opens the packet with his teeth, his eyes never leaving yours, and your clit throbs at his action.

He twists the tip and slowly puts the condom on while biting his lips, and you can swear that you’ve never seen something so fucking hot. Every movement has you entranced, and your heart flickers at the picturesque image of him above you.

The moon gracefully shines on his beautiful figure, his face shimmering under the soft light, like an angel that graces you, a mere mortal, with his ethereal presence.

Yoongi finally leans in and presses a slow, sensual kiss on your neck, “You ready?”

You almost moan out loud at his words, “Fuck yes. Please.”

Without any more words, Yoongi pushes inside you, and you moan at the delicious stretch his big cock gives you.

Yoongi grunts, squeezing the pillow beside you, “Shit, always so fuckin’ tight. I-I don’t wanna be rough, doll, but fuck—“

You grab his hair and place a quick wet kiss on his pouty lips, “Be rough. ‘S okay.”

“You sure? You told me not to be rough. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

Your heart glitters, and you have to clear your throat to not let out a whimper at the warm, fuzzy feeling inside your stomach, “That was before you made me horny as fuck. Now fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Whatever you say,” Yoongi whispers on your lips before thrusting harshly inside you. You gasp loudly, your hand unconsciously grabbing his black hair, causing Yoongi to groan and his dick to twitch inside you from the pain.

Yoongi pulls back before thrusting his cock inside you again.

You arch your back and moan loudly; he spares no mercy to your pussy and starts thrusting with a fast, almost animalistic pace that leaves you moaning like the desperate whore you are.

“So stupid for my cock.” Yoongi laughs with a lazy smirk, and you mewl at his words, nodding as his chains dangle in front of your opened mouth. “You act all high and mighty, but you’re just another slut for me, huh? Just another dumb whore for me.”

You shake your head, trying your best to form any words to contradict his claims, but your throat only forms moans as he pounds his cock into you while holding your legs close to your stomach.

“Mmm,” You squeal when his finger runs your clit as he deliciously thrusts into you, and you swear you’ve never felt so fucking good. So full.

So his.

You're drunk in the sounds of his groans in your ear, mixed with the wet, lewd sounds of your skins slapping on each other.

You suddenly feel a hand harshly grabbing your chin, and you finally open your eyes, your lungs freeze at the sight of his hungry, dilated eyes as he traces your lips, admiring the slight drool that slips your mouth.

Yoongi wastes no time and brings you to a messy kiss, your tongues lazily touching each other, neither of you caring for the saliva on your chins.

“Want you to ride me doll.” Yoongi whispers in your mouth, and you gasp slightly, “Can you do that for me?”

“Okay,” You rapidly nod your head, and you whine when he suddenly slips out of you and rolls your bodies on the mattress so you’re on top.

“Shit, love this view.” Yoongi licks his lips, his eyes never leaving your breasts while all you can do is stare intensely at his lust-filled eyes.

You couldn’t help but gaze into his ethereal form, bathed under the moonlight’s shine.

He looks oh so beautiful, and all you could imagine is how it would feel to have his sparkling eyes looking directly at you.

Shining for you.

Only for you.

But before you can dwell more on his beauty, you feel hands delicately tracing lines of your waist, “You good, doll?”

You giggle silently, your heart beating faster with each passing moment, “Yeah ‘m fine. Can I ride you now?”

“Was just waiting for you, baby.” Yoongi chuckles at your eagerness and gasps when you suddenly grab his length, rubbing the tip against your folds, all while holding a lazy smirk on your face.

You slowly sink into his cock, moaning at the amazing stretch it gives you, and Yoongi hisses at how tight you feel at this angle.

“So big.” You bite your lips, slowly grinding your hips forward, your body shivering at how full you feel. You’re so sensitive, you almost moan loudly when Yoongi’s ring-filled hand touches your ass, squeezing it harshly under his palm.

“Go on, ride that dick, baby.” Yoongi rasps, slapping your ass before you start jumping up and down on his cock, the littlest ‘ah’s’ leaving your mouth as you chase your high.

Yoongi groans loudly, his eyes hypnotized by the way you ride his length, looking so fucking slutty with only your knee socks being the only thing that covers a part of your smooth skin.

The gushy sounds of your wet thighs slapping onto his skin send his brain into overdrive as he watches you bounce, your slick shining on the condom under the moonlight anytime you go up, only to go down again faster than before.

Lust consumes him as he watches your beautiful breasts bounce as you ride him with all your strength, and Yoongi’s dick twitches at the melodic sounds of your high-pitched moans.

“You’re my whore, aren’t you?” Yoongi thrusts his hips up, causing you to gasp and grip his stomach so your limp body stays in balance.

Yoongi harshly grabs your hair, his knuckles going white and forcing your face to tilt up to meet your eyes with his devilish ones.

“Fuckin’ say it.”

With the way he looks at you, he’s ready to incinerate your whole being, and you’re afraid you are already destroyed when the words slip out of your mouth, “‘M yo-your whore, Yoon–Yoongi! Only yours.”

Yoongi smirks as you scream, continuing the animalistic thrust of his hips, faster than ever before.

You swear you can’t breathe with all the pleasure that overwhelms every nerve, every sense of your body.

“You can only think about my cock, hm?” Yoongi sloppily licks his lips, his abdomen contracting every time your thrusts meet, “No one wants such a slut, huh? That’s why you only come to me, yeah?”

“N-No, I—” You moan, your eyes rolling to your skull as his cock finds your g-spot, and Yoongi grins. He knows he found it, you only go non-verbal once he reaches that special spot of yours.

“That’s my fucking slut.” Yoongi chuckles, his hips sloppily thrusting upwards while your hand goes down to rapidly rub your clit, “I’m gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else. Gonna only think of my fat cock and you wo-won’t even dare to fuck other men. Gonna ruin you, baby girl.”

“Yoon—ah,” You scream out, your mouth open as you feel your body close to falling into pure bliss, “C-cum—please, I need to—“

“Come all over this cock baby.” Yoongi moans out, and you stop your movements, your body shivering at the euphoria that is released through your body.

Your body turns limp, and you weakly fall forward, your scrunched face now close to Yoongi’s. You immediately whimper as you feel Yoongi continuing his thrusts into you, sparing no mercy to your abused and sensitive pussy as he chases his own high.

“Yoongi, s-sensitive—“

“Take it.” Yoongi harshly slaps your ass, and you mewl loudly at the sharp pain. Yoongi grabs your chin, forcing your pupils to catch his starving eyes, and you could swear you see a glimpse of the devil himself inside his captivating irises.

Your lungs stop as you realise.

You’re finally his, body and soul.

And a small tear escapes your left eye.

“Wa-wanna f-fuck you raw someday, d-doll,” Yoongi’s face scrunches as he groans the words out, “Wanna fill this pussy with my cum. Gonna make you walk around campus dripping with my-my cum so everyone knows how much o-of a slut the good girl is.”

You gasp loudly.

Did he mean it?

No—he couldn’t. That was just the lust talking, and Yoongi did tend to like dirty talking during sex.

That’s all it is. Right?

Your mind chooses to forget, and you’re cut off from your daze once you hear pretty moans slipping his lips as he rapidly fucks himself into you. “Ah, fuck, fuck—I’m g-gonna come so h-hard for you. W-where—”

“My mouth. Do it in my mouth.” You take his dick out of your pussy, and quickly take off the condom, throwing it somewhere across the room, before connecting your mouth to his leaking length.

“Fuck, d-doll, ‘m comi–ah!” A few bobs of your head, and he comes inside your mouth with a loud, pornographic groan.

You feel your pussy throb as you watch with hooded eyes, his head thrown back and his cherry-red lips parted as he entered a state of bliss. And fuck, what a sight for sore eyes he is.

“Show me your tongue,” Yoongi demands through his deep pants, and you do as requested, opening your mouth and showing your tongue full of his sticky cum.

You’re caught off-guard when Yoongi grabs your hair, pressing his lips onto yours in a lazy, open-mouthed kiss. You moan as your tongues exchange his come with each other, bits of his white release mix with your saliva and run down your chin.

Yoongi slowly removes his lips from yours, a trail of spit connecting both your lips and then breaking, dropping onto your naked chest.

“Swallow,” Yoongi instructs with a rasp in his voice, and shivers run through your spine as you do as he says.

You swallow all the cum that still rests in your mouth with no hesitation, and Yoongi groans at the sight, trying his hardest not to bust another nut right then and there. You scrunch your face at the salty taste on your throat and sit in the space beside him, the mattress jumping at your action.

“Shit, that was good.”

You suddenly feel his lips placing the softest peck on your lips, and tingles run through your body once you feel his hands gently rubbing your tummy.

“Water.” You slowly let out, your throat burning.

Yoongi is quick to get out of bed and comes back in an instant with cold water in his hands.

“Here you go, doll.” Yoongi helps you to sit up to place the glass on your lips, and you slowly gulp the cold water, almost sighing out loud at the relief you feel.

“Shit, I was too rough, I’m sorry.”

Yoongi sighs, his veiny hand rubbing his stomach as he stares at your white ceiling while all you can do is stare at him.

You are caught up in a beautiful image, your eyes mesmerised by how picturesque he is as if crafted by the delicate hands of the goddess of beauty herself.

You quickly shake your head, your heart skipping beats at his concern “‘S okay, I asked for it.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Yoongi asks, his eyes catch yours, and you shift your face to the sheets beneath you, your chest heating up from having been caught lovingly looking at Yoongi as if he were your…..boyfriend.

“Yeah. That was, uh, intense. To say the least.” You chuckle, and Yoongi snorts, returning his hand to your stomach to continue the soft rubs.

“Never did that snowballing shit with anyone. Did you think I went too far with that?”

Your eyebrows shift upwards, and your heart quickens its already rapid pace at his words—did Min Yoongi do a first with you? You were Min Yoongi’s first for something?

Your heart couldn’t help but jump.

Min Yoongi already had many of his firsts when it came to sex. The man was an expert, to say the least.

Having fucked so many girls, you thought he tried anything and everything with so many different people.

But no, he had a first with you.

“No, no. I liked it. It was very hot.” You smile lazily, and Yoongi sighs in relief, his eyes closing for a mere second.

“Okay, that’s good.” You place your water on your bedside table, and Yoongi lies beside you.

You stare at him again. He looks peaceful with his eyes closed.

It’s a tender scene. One you don’t get to have much whenever you are with him.

His breathing and body stay relaxed as he lets himself go for a mere second, and you could only wish the stars that spread through the night skies that you could live this moment again and again.

Until you have nothing left to dream about.

You’re scared of this feeling, of wanting to spend all your happy days with someone, of falling for the sweet nothings he never promised.

You can’t control him, you can’t force him to love you back, and that’s maybe what you fear most.

Because Min Yoongi is unpredictable. He’s wild. He’s a hazard to himself and your sanity.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Yoongi snorts, and you furrow your eyebrows as you’re cut off from your daze once his deep voice speaks up.

“Like what?” You laugh.

“I don’t know. It’s just weird. You’re fucking weird.” Yoongi lets out a chuckle, and you sigh in relief. The last thing you wanted was for him to find out about the gleam on your pupils, the way your eyes form hearts whenever you look at his beautiful face.

“Well, you fuck this weirdo.” You click your tongue and chuckle lightly.

And Yoongi smiles, “Yeah, I do.”

Maybe these moments were the ones where all your walls crumbled down into ashes, fading into the sky and leaving your heart vulnerable to the stabs of love.

The moments where you both stand like this—raw, naked, not caring for anything else in the world, how it makes you feel light. As if you could conquer the world.

Your hopes and dreams are no concern. Your failures and regret are thrown away by the calm sounds of his breathing that sweep away anything and everything that lets you down.

It’s these rare moments, the ones that are only glimpses in your painful field of vision of the world, are what the sonnets mean when you let yourself fall for another.

And in an ideal world, written in the book of your mind, these moments would last every minute, every day, every year, for the rest of your ideal life.

But in the real world, outside the proses of love, of the idealizations of the feeling everyone, so wishes for, what the dreamers never dare to think—is that these moments never last for more than a second before you’re back to bleeding in pain from loving the only one who destroys you in every way, and every day.

But maybe that’s just you. Maybe that’s what you get for choosing to love a disturbance, an instability on your otherwise still life.

Maybe that’s what love is.

Maybe that’s just what loving Yoongi is.

“I should go pee.” You whisper, secretly hoping this won’t end, that his touch will linger on your skin forevermore.

“Yeah, go do that.” Yoongi hums, tapping your thigh lightly, “Can I have a smoke by your window?”

“Sure. Just try not to make the room stink or you’ll take care of it.”

Yoongi chuckles while slowly getting up from the bed, “Will do, doll.”

You slowly walk to your bathroom, trying your hardest not to trip because of your wobbly, sore legs. You shouldn’t have let him be so rough with you, but you know that your horny mind couldn’t resist him or his fucking dick.

You’ll have to spend your Saturday trying your hardest to make the bruises fade away because you know that if Yuri sees you, questions will come, and you don’t think you’ll be able to lie so easily.

Who are you kidding? You won’t be able to lie at all, and you still don’t know how you and Yoongi haven’t been found out by her yet.

You look deep into your own eyes, and bile burns your throat. Is this really who you are? Fucking the man who has your friend’s heart?

Loving a man who will never be yours to claim?

You can’t look at yourself anymore, and so, you quickly turn off the sink and return to your room.

You grab your PJs from the floor, and while you put your clothes back on, you can’t help but stare at Yoongi, who stands by your window with a lit cigarette in between his fingers.

You slowly walk towards him, your heart beating miles per hour as you watch his face taking in the shine of the moon, revealing each detail of his striking features, and your soul glimmers at the mesmerising sight.

It feels serene.

Your heart is calm as you watch him, and your soul is at ease; there is no bleeding, no begging for him to see you.

“Stop staring and come here doll.” Yoongi takes a puff of his cigarette and slowly lets the smoke out into the air.

You slowly walk towards him, and you look down, realising he must have put his sweats back on while you were in the bathroom.

“Hm, this reminds me of cigarettes after sex.” You whisper, your eyes finding the full moon in the night sky while your lungs find it hard to breathe once you feel his lingering gaze on your body.

“You like their music?”

You sigh, “Yeah. Kinda. I don’t listen to them all the time, though.”

“Mmm, I like their song ‘Sweet’.”

You shift your head to the side and furrow your eyebrows, while Yoongi takes another puff from the cigarette, “You listen to them?”

Exhaling the smoke, Yoongi says, “Yeah, I listen to some of their songs. Shit’s good. Kinda catchy.”

Your lips part, “Wow.”

“Is it that shocking?”

You giggle, turning your head to watch the moon again, “Kinda, yeah. Sweet is a good song, though. You have good taste.”

“No shit.” Yoongi laughs and you smile slightly.

Being here, with Yoongi by your side during the whispers of the night, you’re okay.

You’re not plagued by the thoughts that he isn’t yours, you can’t feel the venom running in your veins, instead, gold shimmers inside your heart from the love, the sheer calm in your soul you feel when you are alone with him.

“Hold on, I gotta get my phone.” You quickly whisper before running to your bedside table, grabbing your phone and running back to the same spot you were standing on.

You turn on your camera and zoom in to get the best view of the shimmering moon while Yoongi watches your every action with amused and intrigued eyes.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi laughs, bringing the cigarette to his red lips as he watches you take hundreds of pictures of the moon.

“Taking pictures of the moon, duh.” You roll your eyes and Yoongi snorts, exhaling the smoke inside his mouth.

“You can’t even see it clearly with your shitty camera.”

“But it’s still pretty, isn’t it? Sometimes, pretty things can’t be seen so clearly, Yoongi. But that doesn’t mean it still isn’t beautiful.” You click your tongue, “I also like to take pictures of the moon so I can record the moment and relive it. Sometimes memories aren’t enough, y’know?”

Yoongi smirks, “So you wanna remember me, doll?”

You give him a side eye before continuing to take your pictures, “Nah, not really. It’s just that the moon is really pretty today.” You can only hope he doesn’t see how flushed you are, and that he can’t hear the heart that rapidly beats inside your chest.

Truth is, you don’t want to let this moment go.

You want to use the moon as evidence that tonight existed, that it wasn’t just another one of your daydreams where he isn’t even real.

“Want some?” Yoongi offers the lit cigarette between his fingers, and you shake your head, putting on a disgusting face.

“No thanks, they taste awful.”

You turn your head, your stomach almost dropping as you watch the beautifully hot scene of Yoongi taking another puff from his cigarette, the smoke blinding the moon for a mere second.

Why can’t he be yours?

You scratch your eyes as you suddenly yawn. “I’m tired. Are you….”

You want to ask him, the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you know he won’t stay even if you beg him to. You know the unspoken rule—Min Yoongi doesn’t stay the night with his hook-ups.

You remember, two weeks after you started sleeping with Yoongi, how a friend of Yuri’s from her cheerleading team, Hayun, while you were gossiping in the cafeteria, told you she slept with Yoongi, and when she asked him to stay for the night, he harshly declined and said he never slept with one-night stands.

Two days after, you can still vividly picture you asking him to stay, to test if what Hayun said was true, and maybe to prove something to your ego that you weren’t like the others, that maybe Yoongi felt something else for you.

Yet, he declined.

Looking at you with bored eyes, you can remember how he harshly said no to your offer. It was the first time you realised you were never going to be unique in his eyes.

And as you fell for him, thorns wrapped around your bleeding heart the more you wished for the impossible—to be seen as more, as something you know you aren’t meant to be.

“I was thinking of sleeping here. I’m too fuckin’ tired to go to my dorm, and Hobi is probably still fucking that girlfriend of his.”

Your heart glitters and skips a beat as the words leave his mouth, and you clear your throat, trying to stop the stutter in your voice, “Is that why you came here?”

Yoongi hums before crushing the cigarette in his hand and throwing it out the window, “Yeah, I guess.”

Your insides burn as you feel the newly-bloomed, thornless roses die a second after encountering their life.

“Can I? Sleep here, I mean. I’ll take the couch if you want.”

“No, that couch is too uncomfortable. You’ll wake up with horrible back pain, trust me.” You gulp, eyes falling to the ground, “Let’s just…..”

“Share the bed?”

“Yeah….If that’s too uncomfortable for you I can sleep on the couch instead—“

Yoongi slightly clenches his teeth, “Fuck no. Who do you think I am?”

“Mmm, an asshole?”

Yoongi laughs, “Fair enough. But I’m not that kind of asshole.”

“Sure you aren’t.” You chuckle, “I’ll get to bed, I’m fucking exhausted.” You scratch your reddish eyes, while taking slow steps toward your bed, “Can’t even walk properly anymore. You’ll fucking pay for this, Yoongi.”

Yoongi follows you to the other side of the bed, and he chuckles while getting under the covers, “As if you don’t love it.”

You’re finally in your bed, under your covers, and you mumble with closed eyes, “Whatever, asshole.”

Yoongi chuckles lightly before turning to you, and closing his eyes, letting his consciousness fade into the dream world.

And during the night, like magnets, your bodies slowly gravitate toward each other as your skins glisten under the moonlight that shines through your window.

And when his arms hold you through the night, the moon smiles.

You wake up with your mind in a daze, and the light that shines through your window blinds your tired eyes.

‘Fuck’, you curse, ‘I can’t believe I forgot to put down the curtain.’

You shift to your side, squeezing your eyes from the uncomfortable pain on your sensitive eyes, and you gasp lightly when you feel an arm pushing you back into a chest after your body squirms.

You immediately turn your head to find Min Yoongi beside you, his eyes closed as he calmly breathes on your neck.

“Mmm, morning,” Yoongi says with a low, husky morning voice, his eyes still closed.

And even in your tiredness, your heart flies a million miles per hour, your mind questioning whether or not you are stuck inside a beautiful dream.

“Hey.” You whisper, your throat singing slightly, while you try your best to not show how deeply affected you are by waking up next to the man who holds a part of your everything.

When Yoongi slowly opens his eyes, his entire body squirms as he hisses, “Shit, why is it so light.”

You gulp, “Forgot to put down the curtain. Sorry.”

“‘S okay.” Yoongi rubs his eyes, and you find yourself admiring how cute his morning self can be.

You begin to wonder what would be like waking up next to him every day of your life, but before you can drown yourself more in the painful possibilities of what could be, Yoongi cuts your thoughts by getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi groans, stretching his arms as he slowly walks toward your door, “Gotta pee. I’ll be back.”

As Yoongi goes to the bathroom, you grab your phone beside you and immediately curse once you see Yuri’s messages lingering on your screen.

Yuri : fuxk. ykongi isn’y here.

Yuri : i puy on this red dreess just for him :(/

Yuri : y won’t he fuckk me again?

Yuri : i didn’y rven fuck jimin tonight bc i wanted ykongi. I DIBT FUVK JIMIN!!!!!!!!!!

Yuri : y does ONE dick have me like this? i hate gthis.

Yuri : but i want him again 😭😭😭😭😭 and he didn’t even show up wtF

Yuri : bet ir’s that whore Yena’s fault. saw thenm together last week. ew.

Yuri : he fuxked that bitch but not me again? WTF.

Yuri : men r trash.

Yuri : i need ur advice. where r u? :(((((((((((

  You can’t think as you read your best friend’s drunk messages.

A storm consumes the peace of mind that harboured your body moments ago, the ugliest of emotions now washing all the serenity away.

  You : hey. are u ok?

Yuri : holy shit. hi. i was so drunk last night omfg.

You : i figured loll

Yuri : wanna hang out? i need to talk to u :(

You : are u gonna talk about yoongi? 😒

Yuri is typing…

Yuri : duh. i need ur advice 😭 this man is messing with my head.

You sigh—of course, she would want to meet up to talk to him and ask you about dating advice or how to get Yoongi to notice her. It’s all she has ever talked about these past few months, and you are fucking over it.

Hearing your best friend talk about the man you secretly love, and ask you for advice on how to get him for yourself is never pleasant. Especially when you know she’s much more likely to win his heart that you so seek.

With a groan and a heavy heart, you answer.

You : sure. wanna watch a movie?

Yuri : come to my dorm then? i’m gonna have a lazy day today lol.

You : ok. be there soon.

Yuri : all right xo

“Hey, doll, is your roommate here?” Yoongi suddenly asks, leaning on your doorframe, and you almost let your phone fall to your face at the surprise.

“Shit, uh, I dunno. She kind of always comes and goes. Why?” You ask while Yoongi crosses his arms, and you fight the urge to not drool at the sight of him with only his sweatpants on and jewellery still attached to his half-naked body.

“Heard a lot of moaning from the other room. Maybe she’s watching porn or something.”

You laugh out loud, throwing your head back at his comment, “She’s not watching porn, Yoongi, she’s having sex.”

“At nine in the morning?!”

You giggle and you can’t help but coo at his opened lips and widened eyes. “People have morning sex, Yoongi. And my roommate is a bit of a sex addict.”

“Who’s your roommate?”

“Haneul—“

“___!” You hear a high-pitched voice coming from the other side of your dorm, and you immediately freeze on your spot once you see your roommate.

“Where are the goddamn condoms?! I’m trying to fuck here—Min Yoongi?!” Your roommate’s eyes widen, and Yoongi smirks before lazily waving at your roommate.

“Do I know you?”

Your roommate scoffs, “No, But I know you.” Haneul scoffs, scrunching her face in disgust as she eyes Yoongi up and down, “What are you doing in ___’s room—wait, what the fuck?!”

Your roommate’s eyes widen as she turns her head to you, and you only gulp thickly, your hands starting to tremble once you realise the situation you have been caught in.

You know Haneul doesn’t like Yoongi, she has vebalized her distaste for him countless times within the past month, and whenever his name slipped Yuri’s lips, she was fast to roll her eyes and fake gag.

She told you how Yoongi once fucked one of her best friends, and left her hanging the very next day, not even bothering to answer any of the texts she sent weeks later, something he commonly did with his one-night stands, and how devastated it left her friend.

Since then, Haneul can’t even hear his name and she’s already rolling her eyes or scrunching her face in disgust.

It’s a bit hypocritical of her, really, since she’s done the same thing to the men and women she sleeps with, but who are you to call on her shit?

“Um, it’s—it’s not what it looks like!” You immediately blurt out, your hands starting to shake and your lungs constricting when you catch her widened eyes, a drop of cold sweat threatening to run through your forehead.

You look to Yoongi, desperation inside your pupils when you stare into his calm eyes, praying that he understands you want him to lie for you, tell Haneul anything that denies her obvious suspicion that you two have slept together.

“Yeah. We had a project together and I accidentally slept in. As if I would ever do her.” Yoongi rolls his eyes.

Oh.

Your heart dies a little at his words.

You can’t stop the thoughts that take over your mind. Is it really what he thinks?

Deep down, you know it’s true—you and him aren’t a match, it was never even supposed to happen in the first place.

But the universe is harsh, promising a cursed future for your heart, destined to seek its destruction within a love not reciprocated. Cursed to deteriorate within the empty kisses of lust your soul thought to be the love you started to feel.

He’s everything, he’s the centre of everyone’s attention, he’s the moon every poet praises, and you’re nothing but the rain.

The one that everyone dreads.

“She’s too good of a person to ever sleep with you.” Haneul snarls, a look of disgust plastered on her face, and Yoongi’s lips twitch—you know he wants to smirk. To tease you and tell her he’s the one you meet after hours when you text her you’re doing a late shift at the coffee shop you work at, or that you’re staying late in the library to study.

“Whatever. I’m leaving, anyway.” Yoongi huffs, turning to grab his shirt from the ground, and then he turns to you, “Text me the final results, K?”

Yoongi gets out of your room, bumping his shoulder with Haneul, and she only scoffs, throwing daggers at his back as he walks to your dorm’s exit.

“What a fucking prick.” Haneul rolls her eyes, “It must be hell working with that bastard. Anyway, where are the condoms again?”

You point to your bedside table, “Second drawer.”

Haneul immediately opens the drawer, and gets a packet, examining it, “Hm, the dick isn’t this large but it’ll do. Thanks, babe!” You laugh, throwing your head back, and your roommate runs toward her room where her dick appointment—as she calls them—awaits on her bed.

You feel your phone vibrate on your hand, and your heart squeezes once you see the name plastered on your screen. You forgot about your encounter with Yuri.

  Yuri : bitch where tf are you????

You : sorryyy, i got caught up on some studies from my last lecture.

Yuri : jesus you don’t have a life.

You : 😒

Yuri : whatever. if you don’t hurry up i’ll choose the movie alone…..

You : oh hell no!!!!

You : be there in ten

Yuri : that’s what i thought

You roll your eyes and put on a baggy grey sweater and the Radiohead shirt you stole from your older brother before grabbing your flip-flops and heading out of your room.

You know you don’t look flattering in the slightest, and if you went out in the wild, people would look at you with the most disgusted and judging faces, but Yuri’s apartment is not even two minutes from yours.

You pass through your roommate’s room, and immediately scrunch your face at the loud moans and loud squeak of the bed.

You’re grateful that your bed doesn’t squeak like Haneul’s, or else you’d be screwed.

You’re finally out of your apartment, and once you reach Yuri’s, you knock only once and she’s already opening the door for you.

“Bitch, I need your help.” You stare at Yuri—she’s just like you, with her hair a mess and baggy clothes, yet, there’s a difference.

She still looks amazing, and well, you look like a fucking witch.

Oh, how unfair is life, huh?

Yuri grabs your arm and leads you to her mini sofa, and your stomach twists as it awaits for his name to come out of her lips, the name you were chanting like a mantra at the devilish hours of last night.

“I need your help with Yoongi,” Yuri whines as she bounces on the couch, and you sit beside her, a sigh leaving your lips as you groan loudly.

“I know, I know. But, fuck, this crush on him might be getting deeper.” Your eyes shift to the ground as she continues, “Jimin asked to fuck me again, and I said no because I was waiting for Yoongi to appear. I said no to Jimin, ___!”

Jimin and Yuri had been in a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement for many months now. You knew Jimin wanted something more, but Yuri’s eyes only shifted toward Yoongi, and he accepted it because if having sex was the only way to have Yuri, then he would gladly do it, even if his heart shattered in the process.

You remember when he told you this, you thought he was a fool, an idiot—who in their right mind would let themselves be hurt just to be close to the one who harms them?

“There are plenty of other fish in the sea”, you told him then.

“But she’s the only one I want.” He replied while sighing.

Oh, how you wish you didn’t understand Jimin today—how you wish you didn’t find stars in Yoongi’s eyes, ones that cursed you to find solace in them, when they didn’t even shine for you.

“I’m absolutely fucked. Why does one dick have me like this?” Yuri groans, grabbing her hair in frustration.

You ignore the burn in your throat, and try to give her the advice you usually would—you were always good with giving other people advice, even when you yourself didn’t really follow them.

“You gotta stop thinking about him too much. He’s a fucking asshole, dude. He’s probably out there fucking another girl right now, and you’re here whining because of him. You’re better than him, Yuri.”

You absolutely want to throw up as the words spill out of your mouth, you are no better than the the devil. How did you reach this point of fucking your best friend’s crush?

“Ugh,” She groans, passing her hands through her smooth black hair, “I kind of…..texted him yesterday, asking him to meet me at the locker room, and he didn’t answer yet. I bet it’s that bitch Yena’s fault. I should have kicked her off the team when I had the chance. She can’t even do a backflip properly.” Yuri scoffs, and your blood runs cold at her words.

So much information for your little, fragile heart, that aches at her words as you imagine Yoongi placing the hands that were on your skin mere hours ago, on another, better woman’s body.

“Can we just, like, watch the film and not talk about Yoongi? I-I don’t even know the dude and I already hate him.” You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, and Yuri sighs, resting her head on your shoulder as she starts browsing Netflix’s catalogue.

“Fuck, sorry, I’m talking way too much about him,” Yuri sighs once more, “But what about you? Don’t you think Namjoon would be a good guy for you?”

Yuri lifts her eyebrows twice suggestively, and you roll your eyes, “You only want me and him to work out so you can get closer to Yoongi.”

“That may be partially true, but you and him make such a good couple! You both are nerds and love to study and y’know, you guys just match!” Yuri lightly hits your shoulder and you can’t help but scoff at her words.

Namjoon is an attractive guy, and maybe if you weren’t so caught up with the forbidden fruit that is Yoongi, you would see him in a different light—but you can’t, not when only one pair of brown, majestically beautiful eyes are the only thing in your mind.

“I don’t like him that way, Yuri, so just drop it, alright?”

Yuri groans, “All right, whatever. What movie do you wanna watch, anyway?”

“Scream?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Ugh, why are the options always fucking junk food?” Yuri groans as you both put your trays on top of the wooden table, and you can’t help but giggle at your best friend’s frustration.

“You could’ve gotten just the salad on the other side of the cafeteria.”

Yuri rolls her eyes as Yuri takes a harsh bite out of her mozzarella pizza, “Please stop making sense right now and let me put my anger on this uni’s horrible food options.”

You giggle, taking the softest bite out of your hotdog, “Jeez, what’s got your panties in a twist?

“Please, never say that again.” Yuri scrunches her face and you snicker, taking another bite of your hotdog as you wait for your best friend to stop her dramatic sigh before she talks again. “I saw that bitch Yena all over Yoongi today.”

Yuri scoffs, and you almost choke on your hotdog when the sentence slips out of your best friend’s mouth, “She’s such a fucking slut. She was basically flashing her tits to him, thank fuck he wasn’t even paying attention.”

The smallest sense of relief washes over your body when she tells you Yoongi wasn’t paying attention, and the smallest part of your heart hopes he wasn’t paying attention because his eyes were only set on you, but you knew that to be false.

You would never be the first he would ever really see, even if you so wish for it when the clock strikes midnight and tears threaten to fall down from your eyes as you remember his careless whispers.

“Aren’t you being a lil’ too harsh? It’s not like you don’t do the same thing….” You mumble through your food, and Yuri looks at you with widened betrayed eyes.

“You’re supposed to be agreeing with me, not being the voice of reason. God, you can be so fucking annoying at times.” Yuri rolls her eyes, and you sink into your seat.

Yuri was a good friend, she truly was.

You’ve been friends ever since you both met in your freshman year of high school, but you can always forget just how mean she can be when she doesn’t get her way or hears exactly what she doesn’t want to.

And you still can’t understand how you don’t fight back.

You know you’ve got the sassy comeback on your lips, you know how to shut her up in a second, and if it were anybody else, you’d spit it out with no hesitation.

And yet, you stand here, with your stomach burning in shame as you sink into your seat while silently eating your hot dog.

“Holy shit, Namjoon’s here!”

Your eyes widen as Yuri smirks, “Wait, Yuri, no—”

“Namjoon!” Yuri calls out, waving her arm with a smile on her face, and Namjoon visibly flinches, almost dropping his tray on the floor. He looks at your table with wide eyes, and you hide your face in your palms, groaning loudly at your best friend’s actions.

“Oh, hey ___, hey Yuri.” Namjoon flashes his smile, cute dimples appearing on each of his cheeks, and if your heart wasn’t so caught up in the forbidden fruit that is his friend Min Yoongi, you know your heart would have faintly flickered at his cuteness.

Yuri licks her lip, flashing her best fake smile to the man before you, the one that was enough to make so many men weak on their knees. “Doesn’t ___ look so pretty today?”

Your face heats up at her words, and you hesitantly look up to see Namjoon smiling at you, you could only wish it was his gummy smile in front of you.

“Yeah. You look cute, ____. Is that a new shirt?”

You slowly nod your head, a small smile tugging on your lips, “Yeah, actually. I bought it from—”

“So, Namjoon, do you know where Yoongi is?” Yuri flutters her eyes, ever so slowly tracing her nails on the man’s hand, and you internally roll her eyes. Yuri’s oldest trick in the book, and somehow, it works on every single guy.

Namjoon's cheeks turn into a faint pink, “U-um, I don’t know, I-I texted him today and—”

“Namjoon!” A deep voice calls Namjoon from the other side of the cafeteria, and your heart stops as you realise it’s just the man whom your heart bleeds for every day of your life.

Min Yoongi.

You watch with the heaviest heart as Yuri’s eyes glisten when the basketball captain comes into her field of vision, and bile threatens to burn your throat as you realise you aren’t the only one to feel so moved for the man.

“Oh hey, Yuri.” Yoongi greets your best friend and bites his lip once he turns to you—you know it’s tortuous for him to hold back his teasing whenever he sees you, but you glare at him, silently threatening him.

“Hey—”

“Oh, Yoongi! I don’t think you know her yet, but this is my best friend, ____.” Yuri giggles, and Yoongi smirks, putting his hands in the pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, I know who she is.” Yoongi licks his lips, “Hey, ____.”

You visibly gulp the lump that suddenly formed in your throat as he stares at you with those tempting cat-like eyes, and you feel the world stopping, your lungs failing to let any more oxygen in as you stare at each other for the fewest milliseconds before your best friend is talking again with her high-pitched voice.

“Oh, you do?” Yuri turns her head innocently, and you want to laugh at just how fake she can be. You always thought she should’ve been an actress with her amazing skills. “Well, that doesn’t matter. Do you guys wanna eat with us?”

“Um, I don’t think Yoon—“

“Yeah, sure,” Yoongi says, immediately cutting Namjoon off, who looks at Yoongi with widened eyes.

Namjoon slowly pulled a chair next to you as Yoongi got the chair next to Yuri, who silently squealed at his action.

Namjoon furrows his eyebrows as he stares at Yoongi in front of him.

He knows his best friend like the palm of his hand, and he knows Yoongi would rather be caught dead than be with anyone at this time of the day. The basketball player has no patience for anyone before his meal, and even worse before he has his first coffee of the day.

For fuck’s sake, the player had just shoved Yena off mere moments ago, and she’s notorious for being one of the campus’ hottest girls, with huge tits Namjoon would give up the world to be able to suck.

Yet, now he’s here, willingly sitting beside Yuri, his hottest yet most annoying hookup, before eating his lunch.

Namjoon waits for the scowl from his best friend’s lips, but all he does is bite it as he sits beside Yuri.

As Namjoon stares at his best friend and Yuri who stands before him with the sparkliest eyes Namjoon’s ever seen, something clicks inside the man.

A lightbulb. An epiphany.

Namjoon’s jaw drops to the floor.

Yoongi fucking likes Yuri.

Yoongi leans on his chair, crossing his arms on his chest as he stares at the woman in front of him, you and your heart beat so fast, that you could swear your vision almost starts to fall as you stare at the man before you.

“So, Yoongi, how’s practice going for you? Do you think you’ll win on Friday?”

Yoongi scoffs lightly, a familiar cocky smirk resting on his lips as he turns his head to Yuri, and a venomous feeling courses through your veins.

You can’t help but wonder what passes through his mind when he stares at her. Does he think she’s beautiful?

More beautiful than you?

You know that’s what everyone thinks, and not even you can deny it—Yuri is ethereal, the most angelic features adorning her face, and you know you could never compare to that.

“Of course, we’ll win. My team is the fuckin’ best.”

Yuri giggles, slowly placing her slim, almost angelic hands on top of Yoongi’s arm, “Of course you will! I’m training my girls to put on the best dance for your victory on Friday.”

You expect Yoongi to stutter, to fall like putty to Yuri’s touch, and yet, he easily withdraws his arm from her angelic hand.

Yuri visibly frowns at that, and you see the faintest glimpse of rage from her eyes before it’s back to the sparkles of admiration as she stares at the basketball player beside her.

You silently sigh as you take another bite of your hotdog.

You will always be invisible next to Yuri, won’t you?

Are you so cursed, that the man you so love, that your heart cries for every night, prefers your mesmerizing best friend over you?

You love Yuri, you truly do, but you could only wish that for once in your life, she wasn’t the one to be picked. That you’d for once be visible in the eyes you so want, but you know she’s the only one he will seek.

It’s always been like that. A cruel fate that is written by destiny itself.

It has happened so many times before.

Your crush from high school asked her out for prom and you stood there, watching the scene as your heart broke for the first time.

It happened too with your first lab partner whom you developed the smallest crush on during freshman year of college, who asked Yuri out on a date while at the same party where you decided to confess your slight feelings for him.

And the last time it happened was with your gym crush.

You thought this time, he wouldn’t fall into Yuri's clutches, since she didn’t go to the same gym as you—but what are the chances that she suddenly decides to join you for one of your workouts?

And the minute Yuri’s stepped into the gym, you saw your gym crush’s eyes fall on her, and it didn’t take long until he asked for her number, and the following week, she told you every detail about how thoroughly he fucked her, and she explained how she dumped him because he wasn’t Yoongi.

The worst part is, she knew you liked them all.

And you know Yoongi will fall for her charm. He will slip out of your hands so easily, all that will remain are the memories of him that will be as distant as mercury is to neptune.

Forced to watch destiny engrave their names together on the moon while you burn like the sun that is your love for the man that will never be yours.

You’re so caught up in your own little world, you almost jump once you feel your phone vibrating on your pocket, and your heart jumps from your chest once you read the name lingering on your screen.

Your cheeks heat up, and your eyes shift to Yoongi in front of you, who gives you the tiniest glance while his luscious lips form the devilish smirk you will never admit arouses you.

You quickly turn your head to Yuri, your fast heart pulsating on your ears as adrenaline rushes through your system, and the slightest relief washes through you when you realise she’s talking about herself to Yoongi, who doesn’t even pay attention to her hand on his arm, but instead, the phone on his hand under the wooden table.

Your eyes widen while your breath hitches at his lewd words—how could he have the courage to send such a thing when your best friend is beside him, trying her best siren-like tricks to seduce him.

“Hey, Yoongi. Are you listening?”

Yoongi turns his head up to your best friend, and his face is so cold and indifferent, it sends shivers through your spine.

“Sure.”

“Who are you texting?” Yuri asks with her best innocent voice, and Yoongi immediately shuts his phone off when your friend tries to get a peek of his screen. “Is it……Is it Yena?”

“That’s none of your business.”

Yuri’s face immediately falls, and your eyes widen at his sharpness.

It’s been some time since you’ve seen this part of him, you almost forgot just how much his words could cut anyone’s heart like a knife while his eyes held no remorse for it.

You’re an awful liar, aren’t you?

Of course you need him, but not in the ways he thinks—your heart needs him so your river can flow, so your moon can shine on your body, so your nerves can find the only calmness it needs, and that only happens when you’re next to him.

You sigh, and send another message, asking him to stop it, and he only texts back with a cold ‘K’.

You put your phone back in your back pocket, and when you shift your head, your eyes unexpectedly catch Yoongi’s brown ones, that hold a glint of mischief behind tem, and you know he wants to tease you, to whisper in your ear the many positions he will take you in, to make you flushed with his words for everyone to see.

But he knows he can’t, and when he shifts his eyes to your best friend beside him, your soul screams for him again, for his attention on you, because you know briefness is the only thing you, the invisible one, will ever get from him.

“I gotta go to my next lecture. See you, Joon.”

Namjoon awkwardly waves to Yoongi as he takes a big bite of his pizza, his mind wondering why his best friend had acted so strange, so unlike him.

Namjoon knows Yoongi never liked Yuri—he always complained how that girl couldn’t hop off his dick for the life of her, and how she’s the least favourite of his many hookups. And yet, now he willingly sits next to her?

Yoongi is known to not care for his hookups—he doesn’t even like talking to them unless he’s at a party or just horny.

Namjoon doesn’t blame his friend—Yuri, although incredibly annoying, is a beautiful, fucking hot woman.

“Uh, I’ll be going too. It was great seeing you two.” Namjoon gives you two his friendliest smile, and you wave goodbye as he steps up from his chair and leaves your table, leaving you and a fuming Yuri alone.

‘Oh fuck.’ You gulp when seeing your best friend’s eye twitch.

“He was totally texting that slut Yena.” Yuri clenches her teeth, and suddenly it’s hard for you to breathe while your heart picks up its pace once again.

You feel like a traitor in the court of friendship, a clandestine lover of the very person who had captured your heart, knowing he will squeeze its life out every minute that passes by while you love him so.

You knew how much your best friend liked him, how much she pined for him, and yet, you still chose to forbiddenly develop a storm of emotions for the same man that never chose to look you in the eye before that night.

And you became the secret villain in the story you never intended to write, the monster that fell for the same man your best friend held sparkly eyes for.

Your stomach burns with the guilt that swallows you whole as you stare into oblivion while Yuri shamelessly tears Yena apart, and you can’t help but wonder what she would do to you if she ever found out what you and Yoongi did after hours.

With a sigh, you swallow the tear of shame that threatens to slip out of your guilt-filled eyes.

“I don’t even understand what he sees in her. Besides her boobs, she’s just an ugly whore desperate for attention. I am so much better than her and he doesn’t even pay attention to me.” Yuri scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest as she lets all her anger out while you stand there absentminded.

“Are you even listening?!” Yuri growls, scoffing once more when she sees you flinch.

“Shit, sorry, I kinda dissociated there.” You chuckle nervously, and Yuri hums.

“Were you thinking of Namjoon?” Yuri smirks, and you roll your eyes.

“No, I was thinking of all the assignments I have due. You gotta stop trying to make me and Namjoon work dude, we’re both not interested.”

Yuri rolls her eyes and fake gags, “Lord, you’re so fucking boring. You need a dick to take that stick out of your ass.”

“I’m not interested, thanks.”

Yuri rolls her eyes, and before she can say any thing else, a voice cuts her off by calling her name.

“Yuri!”

Yuri slaps her face while groaning, and you turn your head to find a blue-haired man walking toward your table.

Park Jimin.

You snicker at Yuri’s state, and her groans get louder as Jimin gets closer to your table.

“Hey, Yuri.” Jimin smiles while taking the seat Yoongi was in before, and Yuri rolls her eyes.

“Jimin, if you wanna fuck, I can’t right now. Go ask Mina, or something.” Yuri grumbles while looking at her red nails, and your eyes fill with pity was you watch Jimin’s mouth turn into the slightest frown.

“I don’t wanna fuck, Yuri. Can’t I just come here and talk to you?” Jimin sighs, and looks at your before waving, “Oh, hey, ____. Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

You chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest, “Hey, Jimin. No worries.”

Jimin turns his head to Yuri, the oh so familiar shimmer inside his eyes as he stares at your best friend, “You look fucking beautiful—”

“Whatever. I have some boring math lecture now, so I gotta go. You wanna watch my training later?”

You shake your head with a sigh, and Jimin’s eyes shift to the ground, “Can’t, I have a shift at the cafe tonight.”

“Ugh, fine.” Yuri rolls her eyes and grabs her tray before stepping out of her seat, “Say hi to Taehyung for me.”

You chuckle lightly, “Sure. See you.”

“Bye, bitch.”

As you watch Yuri walk away, you sigh heavily, your heart heavier than a rock, guilt tightening its grip on your chest as you stare at your food.

“I’m so fucking pathetic.” Jimin groans into his palms, and you watch him with a clenching heart.

“You gotta give up, man. She’s not gonna change fo you.” You purse your lips, your stomach turning at the advice that comes out of your mouth, and Jimin sighs.

“I can’t, dammit.” Jimin slams his hand on the table, and you flinch, guilt eating you alive as your mind screams how much of a hypocrite you are.

“Why do you even love her so much?”

Jimin chuckles before letting out a deep breath, “I don’t fucking know.”

“Well, if you truly don’t know, then….”

Jimin gulps while looking at the ground.

You know the look in his eyes from a mile away—shame.

“Gotta go. It was nice seeing you, ____. See you later.”

You smile tightly while waving slightly, “See you, Jimin.”

As Jimin walks away, your fingers go to your throbbing temple.

Until when are you going to sustain the weight of guilt before you crumble?

“What’s up with you today?” Taehyung asks in a rushed whisper, and you hum while pressing the button on the machine.

“What do you mean?” You ask, never taking your eyes off the cup as it fills with coffee, and Taehyung sighs. You were always a tough one to crack.

“I literally saw you put whipped cream on an Iced Americano. You are clearly not okay. What the hell happened?”

“It’s none of your business, Taehyung.” You roll your eyes, and Taehyung scoffs, but he’s not taken aback by your rudeness, no, it only fuels the curiosity inside him.

You and Taehyung worked together in the cafe right beside your campus and he was a great colleague. Attentive, fun to be around, a little too bubbly for your liking at times, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

But Taehyung was always a curious guy, and although it could be funny at times to know some gossip during your working hours, it was never fun whenever he mingled in your business.

“Tsk,” Taehyung clicks his tongue, “Something’s going on, and I will find out, ____.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes, grabbing no lactose milk beside you, and praying Taehyung would leave you alone.

“Wanna hear some gossip to cheer you up?” Taehyung smirks, and you sigh while nodding your head—if this was going to let him get away from you, then, of course, you would hear a silly little gossip you would later forget.

“Y’know Min Yoongi?”

Your heart suddenly stops at the name that slips from Taehyung’s lips.

“Yeah. Who doesn’t?” You snort, and Taehyung chuckles.

“True. Anyway, there’s a rumour he’s fucking someone from the cheer squad. Just thought I’d let you know, cause, well…..your friend, Yuri…..”

Everyone on campus knows about Yuri’s obsessive crush on Yoongi.

She made sure to remind each girl she saw him hooking up with that he was hers. Rumours about the crazy head cheerleader spread like wildfire at the beginning of your sophomore year after Yuri ‘accidentally’ tripped a girl over in the hallway and hissed a loud ‘slut’ while doing so.

The girl later overheard you scolding Yuri for doing that to the innocent girl because she saw her and Yoongi having sex in his car after cheerleading practice, and she spread to everyone just how crazy Yuri is.

You never saw the girl again, rumours say she transferred to another university.

You gulp thickly, a burn suddenly forming on your throat, but before you can even answer, another one of your co-workers, Eunchae, rapidly speaks up, “Who’s fucking who? I smelled gossip from a mile away.”

You roll your eyes, both your co-workers are suckers for gossip, and you sometimes question your own sanity whenever you are near them.

Taehyung chuckles, “Oh, just a rumour that Yoongi’s fucking someone from the cheerleading squad.”

Eunchae chuckles, “Ah, Min Yoongi. Best dick I’ve ever had.”

Your eyes widen, and Taehyung’s mouth drops before he talks again, “What the fuck, he got you too?”

“It was, like, many, many months ago. That man fucked me so good I accidentally said ‘I love you’ while orgasming.”

Taehyung makes a dramatic gag expression, “Ew. TMI, Eunchae. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”

Ah yes, Taehyung is a basketball player on the college’s team, one that Min Yoongi is the captain of, and is part of the same friend group as Yoongi.

When you first started working in this little cafe months ago and you saw Taehyung for the first time, you internally groaned, thinking he would be a cocky shit like some of his teammates, but he surprised you by being an annoying cinnamon roll you learned to like.

You still can’t understand how he and Yoongi are even in the same friend group. You know they aren’t super close, not like Taehyung is with Jungkook, or Yoongi is with Hoseok and Namjoon, but they are still friends.

How could Taehyung, the sweet yet irritating man, even be in the same space as the cocky asshole that is Min Yoongi?

“You said I love you to him?” You laugh a little too loud, and Eunchae sighs heavily.

“Yeah. Haven’t talked to him since. I sometimes miss his dick, though.” Eunchae sighs once more, entering a daydream state, and Taehyung scoffs while crossing his arms against his chest.

“I don’t get it. He fucks literally everyone and has every girl after him. Like, what the fuck am I doing wrong?” Taehyung cutely pouts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes—Kim Taehyung is a fun man to be around sometimes, but holy fuck, can he get on your nerves.

“Ugh. Taehyung, Stop acting like you get no bitches when I literally saw you fucking that girl at that party last week.” You hiss—you’re sick and tired of Kim Taehyung acting like he doesn’t get any women when the man looks like a fallen angel. You’ve heard so many people talking about how they had a crush on him, and yet here he is, acting like he doesn’t fuck a new girl every other week.

However, unlike Min Yoongi, Taehyung is known to be sweet to his hookups, and you still can’t understand how no one hasn’t fallen in love with him yet.

“Yeah, and she asked me if Yoongi was single after we had sex. She had all of this,” Taehyung points at his body, more specifically his dick, and both you and Eunchae scrunch your faces in repulsion, “And still had the nerve to ask about Yoongi.”

“Oh shit. What did you do?” Eunchae asks with a lifted eyebrow and Taehyung gulps.

His eyes shift to the floor, and he mutters, “I gave her his number.”

“You did what?!” Eunchae shouts while you sigh disappointingly, passing your palms through your face, and Taehyung pouts.

“I just—What should I have done? Tell her to go fuck herself after we literally just fucked?!”

Eunchae scoffs, “Duh, that’s what I’d do.”

“And she’d probably spread to everyone what an ‘asshole’ I am. I gotta keep my clean reputation, y’know?”

Eunchae snorts, and you can’t help the small giggle you let out, “What reputation?”

“You’re being mean, ____.”

“And you were dumb as fuck, Tae.” You shrug, and Taehyung whines.

“Whatever,” He huffs, “I still don’t get how every single woman is down bad for him. Your friend Yuri, the whole cheerleading squad, and every single woman I kiss talks about him. At this point ___ is the only one he hasn’t fucked.”

You almost let the coffee in your hands spill on your uniform, and you clear your throat.

Oh, if only Taehyung knew.

“And how do you know that?”

Taehyung scoffs, looking at you as if what you asked was the most absurd thing in the world, “You’re not his type.”

Eunchae squints her eyes, “And what is his type?”

Taehyung sighs, “Confident, annoying, kinda bratty, big ass, hot as fuck, maybe even a little slutty. Basically the opposite of our precious ____ here. And you’re just too good to fuck an asshole like yoongi.”

‘Why does everyone keep saying that?’ Your eyebrows scrunch, and your heart falls to your stomach at his words.

“I’d say your friend Yuri is the perfect example of his type. She’s fuckin’ hot—“

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” You grumble, angrily putting your coffee on the counter, and Taehyung furrows his eyebrows in confusion while Eunchae mentally slaps her forehead.

You turn your head to your friends, your eyes starting to sting more with every second that passes, “Uh, I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

You quickly head to the bathroom, and you completely fall apart once the door closes. Your hand covers your mouth, hoping to muffle your small whimpers.

Your tears were a silent confession to the pain that had become your constant companion. You shouldn’t be like this, crying over a man that isn’t even close to being yours.

You know you aren’t his type, that people like you aren’t supposed to be with him—it’s against the law of nature, of the way life is written by destiny.

Taehyung is right—you aren’t his type. You are not Yuri; you were not even second to her beauty, you were the third, fourth, fifth, the one to hide behind the scenes as people like Yoongi and Yuri shined on stage.

That truth was a dagger, piercing through your soul with every heartbeat.

Yoongi doesn’t love you, his world doesn’t pulsate for you, his heart doesn’t flicker for your quirks.

You feel your phone buzz inside your pocket, and you grab it, only for your heart to sink even more when you see the name displayed on your screen.

‘Speaking of the devil himself,’ you think to yourself.

Yoongi 👎 : hey doll

Yoongi 👎 : what r u doing rn?

You sniffle, typing fast while drops of your silent tears stain your phone’s screen.

You : i’m at work

You : but i think i’ll be leaving early.

Yoongi 👎 is typing…..

Yoongi : everything ok?

You smile, your erratic nerves calming down as you wipe the drops of salty water on your cheeks.

You : i’m just not feeling too well

Yoongi 👎 : :(

You : why’d u ask?

Yoongi 👎 is typing…..

Yoongi 👎 : i’m bored as fuck. hobi and i were practising for friday but he left me here alone bc of some emergency with his gf.

Yoongi 👎 : i swear that woman is taking him away from me.

Yoongi 👎 : u wanna come here?

rest is continued on the reblogs of this post !! you can access it here 💗 tumblr is annoying with this 1k blocks thing, so i had to cut it off :")

[wolfvmin]

Latibule VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻

Masterlist, Latibule VII

Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.

“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.

“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,

Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”

“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”

Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”

“It was a compliment, hyung!”

Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”

—-

Dominant.

That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.

He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.

“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?

His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.

You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.

“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.

“We need to get up. We have work-“

“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”

You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.

And so, you two called in sick.

“Then what should we do today?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.

But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.

Suga made you happy.

He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.

And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.

You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.

“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.

“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.

“You know…”

“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.

You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”

“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“

“I take it back. I take it all back-“

Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”

Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.

You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.

A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.

All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.

“Suga-“

“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”

You didn’t.

That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.

You feared your condition was near its extremity.

One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.

And you were used to this.

Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.

It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.

Until one night, the unthinkable happened.

Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.

You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.

You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.

But you did.

It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.

“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.

You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.

He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”

A beat of silence. “I have none.”

“Do you have…anyone?”

It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.

He smelled like home, you thought.

Maybe you did have someone.

Maybe you had him.

“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”

Tip Jar

Latibule IX

#when i have more time i will reblog this again #BUT OMSHABA. IM SCREAMINGGGGGG #THIS IS SO GOOD

[wolfvmin]

OMG. Thank you for your kind words. I really appreciate it. But WHAT. Did you just say you only read the final part? KHDAKHDKJA How was it? Was it not confusing? But really, thank you. I'm glad you loved this little story of mine and how it went!

House of Cards: Final

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff, unrequited love (but is it really), pining wc: 30.8k (i know, i’m sorry) warnings: violence, niragi, spontaneously written at 2am and under the influence, chishiya is emotionally constipated, violence, mentions of sex, making out, mentions of murder, suicidal themes, slightly obsessive banda, season 2episode 7, reader is reckless, mentions of torture, daddy issues, smut, dry humping, nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it >:(), multiple orgasms, a little choking, doggy style, missionary  summary: the final games of borderland are upon you. it’s up to you and chishiya to navigate where you stand in this world and to each other.  a/n: IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG,, and thank you for 515 followers!! <333 ily ily :((( i’m sad this is the last part. also i think the aib fandom has been thinning lately </333. i took too long in writing damn. if anyone wants drabbles of the hoc couple i’d be down to write them! i really enjoyed writing this story. thank u for reading it! 

AO3 link ; Part 2 (Previous Part)

You still weren’t sure if you’d died in the Queen of Clubs game and hallucinated last night’s events. Neither of you was clear about what that kiss meant. Was it just in the heat of the moment? Was it Chishiya acting on his apology? Or perhaps a reciprocation of what you feel for him? You don’t know and you were too scared to ask. 

The kisses ended as the song ended. Chishiya pulled away as soon as that record stopped spinning. Then he smiled at you. A small one where the corners of his lips were slightly turned upward. It was a smile that could mean many things if we were talking about that white-haired guy. To make matters worse, that motherfucker turns around and leaves you alone in the living room, confused and somewhat turned on, without saying anything.

The light seeps through your closed lids and you try to block it with your right hand, scrunching your forehead in annoyance. Your other hand glides over the other side of the bed, searching for the man who slept beside you last night. The material of his shirt is soft against your palms, indicating that he’s still next to you in bed.

With your eyes open now, you see Chishiya who is still sleeping beside you. He looks so peaceful like this. Although it’s not the first time that you’ve woken up beside Chishiya, it’s somewhat different to find something familiar in the real world. 

You were sure you’d never see him again when you found yourself in this world. You’ve lost all hope to get back to your previous life. But he’s here. He’s real and beside you. Somehow, you don’t know if you’re lucky or misfortunate for this. Sometimes, you wish you never found him at The Beach. 

“Get back to sleep.”

He still had his eyes closed, forehead scrunching while he said that. You chuckle, his morning voice ten times more attractive to you. Suddenly, the tip of his nose is the next thing you fixate on. Using your index finger, you booped it, making his nose scrunch up and catching your hand with his. 

His eyes finally flutter open, staring at you intently. The only light in the room is from the sunlight seeping through the windows, you can see the reflection of it in his eyes. From this close distance, you can see his dark eyes’ irises in hazel brown. His skin looks a little bit rougher and his lips are drier than they did in the real world. Despite this, his lips still looked like it was beckoning you, whispering to be tasted as they did last night.

You turn on your stomach, leaning unto your elbows for support as you shift your body closer to his. The action was not easy, your body sore from all the fighting you’d done in the last game. His face is about an inch away from yours, so close that you can hear each other breathing. There’s a weight that is put onto the back of your neck and you quickly realize that Chishiya’s hand is there. 

He doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t push your head down to finally close the distance. He doesn’t even move his fingers. His hand just stays still there as you slightly hover over him. 

“Hey, Shuntarou. Will you marry me?” 

A wide grin spreads across your face when you ask him. In answer, the man’s face drops into a frown, his eyes unamused. “What? You kissed me last night. You have to marry me now.”

“I don’t think that’s what that usually entails,” he replies with his raspy voice, lips tugged to an amused smirk. 

“Can I kiss you again?” You ask, ignoring his sassy remark to your unserious question. Your gaze fell onto his lips once more. You were too scared of his answer to meet his eyes. So you wait.

Just like that, he finally uses his hand on your nape to push your head down, smashing your lips against his. Last night’s kiss was unexpected and serene. It was your first kiss with Chishiya and to you, it was perfect. However, this one right now is needy—like he couldn’t get enough of you. 

You weren’t a prude. You've shared a bed with men even if your heart was Chishiya’s. It was mostly due to curiosity, loneliness, and simply fulfillment of needs. And if you were being honest, you don’t know if Chishiya was even interested in matters of sex. You never really indulged each other in your sensual lives. And to be frank, you’d rather not think about Chishiya being intimate with someone else.

However, as he kisses you right now and how he gently pushes your shoulder with his other hand to lay your head on the pillow, you know that Chishiya knows a thing or two about pleasing his partner. His body hovers over you as his knee is between your legs and his hand beside your head. Your hands clung to his shirt as if to prove to yourself that yes, Chishiya Shuntarou, the love of your life and the man of your dreams, is melting you in a heated kiss on a bed you shared. 

You register the plumpness of his lips as you’re still in a bit of shock. Chishiya’s free hand slides to your waist and gives you a squeeze in order for you to fall back into the rhythm of his kisses. These lips that would often frown and smirk at you, how long have you imagined what they would feel like? They were warm, contrasting his cold exterior. Even warmer is his tongue as he darts it out to lick at your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, pulling him even closer to you by grasping his shirt down. 

It’s just so Chishiya to do things with ease and perfection. It seemed calculated and somehow erotic like he was communicating every word that he couldn’t say through his kisses. When he pulls away, it elicits a breathy gasp from you. Your eyes were wide open, blown out, and staring at him with glossy eyes. 

You’ve only felt this way a few times in your life, a number you can count with your fingers. Happiness, is it? 

It’s not high. It wasn’t addicting. You’ve experienced that a lot with fighting. But this… this feeling is so pleasing that it almost brings you to tears. This was the kind of happiness that brings you to disbelief. It makes you think, “Do I deserve to be this happy?” 

“More,” you plead, begging like you were an addict.

Chishiya hums, his deep voice sending you straight to heaven right there and then. He doesn’t lean in. Instead, he taps your cheeks with three fingers. Twice in a fast motion. 

To your disappointment, Chishiya removes himself from you and gets off the bed. He exits the bedroom and you were left on the bed, thirsty like a fish out of the water. 

You’ve put on new gym clothes. It was a black sports bra and active jogger pants. Chishiya was in the living room, reading a book he found somewhere lying around. It seemed he found something too. “I’m going for a jog,” you inform him, already stretching to start. 

Chishiya doesn’t even look at you. Typical. But you know he heard you and he wants you to be safe. It’s dangerous for both of you to keep going like this. Communication is much needed in every relationship, no matter what kind of relationship it is. You’re not sure if those kisses have changed anything in yours and you should really talk about it. However, what you really need right now is to sweat it out and gain some confidence to ask him.

Yesterday, you and Chishiya took the chance of having a long visa to lounge around all day. He never kissed you again and acted like how he was before. What he did do was not let you out of the bed, insisting that you should rest your injuries away for the day. You obliged. When have you not?

Now, it’s early in the morning and the sun has not even reached its highest. The apartment was near trees, you’ve gone just away from the center as much as possible. Chishiya said that after you join the next game, it’d be best to move out of there. He assumes that since the games would be going down one by one, the King of Spades would go around the edges of Tokyo to push everyone back into the center. 

As you were running along the sidewalks, you remember having morning jogs and stretching like this with Usagi, bringing Usagi and Arisu into your thoughts once again. They should be fine. Kuina too. Still, you can’t help but worry for them.

You’ve gone a bit far from the apartment, jogging by a short tunnel under a bridge. Before completely going in, you stop in your tracks, hearing something other than the wind whistling and leaves rustling. You focused on listening, hiding on the side and pulling a dagger from a strap on your leg. 

It was breathing. Difficult breathing. And sobs. Someone is crying. 

You’ve become careful with your steps, readying for anything as you approach the sound. Slowly, you reach the voice. It was one man, leaning against the wall of the tunnel. It was dark but you could see the gunshot wound on his head and the gun in his hand. He could barely move his mouth, dark red blood all over it. When he sees you, his sobs get louder. 

You stand near him but not approaching him closely. He raises his empty hand and points at something. You follow his gaze to your hand. He was pointing at your dagger.

Oh.

Your eyes darkened at what he was insinuating—what he was asking of you. 

“P-Please… end it.” 

This stranger was asking you to mercy kill him. Why? He was done for what he’d done. Why would he kill himself? You’re not sure he could even reply if you ask him.

His bloodshot eyes plead with you as tears and blood fall from them. You walk closer to the man, your hands slightly trembling. You wish you brought a gun with you. That way you wouldn’t have to use your hands for what you’ll do. You think about it first. Not if you’ll do it but how you’ll do it. You have a dagger. That’s all you have. You’ve brought it for emergencies but you didn’t think you’d actually have to use it. 

It would have to be the most painless way possible. 

“Lean forward,” you instruct the man in a low voice, completely dreading what you’re supposed to do.

The man, with all his strength left, removed himself from the wall. If you stab him repeatedly in the chest, he’d have to bleed out and die painfully longer. You have to strike somewhere else. His back was free for you to stab into. No matter how many deaths you’ve seen, it just doesn’t get easier. Especially if you’re the one to cause it. 

This is the first kill. A mercy kill. You’re doing this man a favor but making a burden to yourself. You know that if you do this, you’ll have to remember him for the rest of your life and somehow regret it. You weren’t a monster. You have darkness inkling inside of you that you don’t understand but you were still human. 

“T-thank you,” he was able to say as he spluttered blood onto the pavement. Tears well up in your eyes and your nostrils flare up as you take a deep breath.

Blocking your thoughts away, you strike your blade unto his back, just above his shoulder blade, severing the spinal cord. You remember this one lecture in med school where someone asked where would be the most painless way to stab someone to death out of sheer curiosity. This was the answer. 

You watch as his body falls sideways when you pull out your dagger, his blood painting the cemented ground and your hand. You wipe your hunting blade on his clothes and put it back on the strap of your leg. 

When death comes to collect him, his hands relax and their contents fall. Something scrunched up fell out of the hand without the gun, the one he pointed your dagger with. You pick it up and straighten it. It was a picture of him and a child. He was a father. 

Does that mean that child is dead? A father wouldn’t kill himself knowing he has a daughter back home. But would he? It’s possible. You don’t even know the name of this man. You don’t know what kind of person he is, much less a father. Sighing, you pick up his gun next. It was a Pistol. You could keep it but it was useless. Where would you get—

Oh.

For the second time in a few minutes, you were dumbstruck. Even if it was pointless, you couldn’t help but check the gun just to be sure. And you were glad you did. This gun… still had bullets, meaning you didn’t have to do it yourself. 

Your grip on the gun tightened, feeling a bit betrayed by this man. He hadn’t asked you to kill him because he was incapable and out of bullets. He asked you to do it because he was a coward to finish it himself.

Feeling a bit drained because of the revelations, you decide to head back to the apartment, carrying the gun in your hand.You push open the door, knowing you’ve left it unlocked. 

“I’m back,” you announced to not alarm your companion in the house. Chishiya was already in your line of sight, sitting on the couch which can be seen directly from the door. He wasn’t sitting there earlier. Was he waiting for you? 

Lifting his head from the book, he takes in your appearance. There was blood that splattered over you. Not to mention your hand that was still covered in blood and holding a loaded gun. He raises a brow as if waiting for an explanation. You shake your head, not wanting to talk about it. 

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” you press and head to the room to clean yourself. 

When you’ve cleaned yourself and changed your clothes, you stare at the gun on your bedside table. You sat down on the side of the bed, slouching, and then completely lying down and staring at the ceiling. You shouldn’t feel this way. You still helped the man. But still, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit betrayed. Maybe that’s just how it is. This is how people are. In the end, he chose to die no matter who did it or how it happened. It’s fine to feel upset. But what happened already happened. 

Chishiya strides into the room, standing beside you and looking down at you. You groan, turning to your side to not see him.  “Go away,” you order weakly.  

You’d rather not tell him what happened. This will go away in a few days. But for now, your heart is too heavy to do anything else. So, for now, you hope Chishiya leaves it alone.

“I’ll join a Diamonds game.”

You scoff. “I said I’m fine—wait, what?” You sat up on the bed in disbelief. That’s what he was going to say? He wasn’t even going to check up on you? 

“You’re staying here. You need more rest,” he adds. 

You shake your head. “What? Are you kidding? No!”

He stares at you, giving you that nonchalant expression again. This was non-negotiable. He really didn’t want you anywhere near the Diamonds game. 

“I’ve won a Diamonds game once.” It was true. Your first game was a Diamond. You were capable of a Diamonds game. Just because you threw away medicine doesn’t mean you were not smart. “What if only one survives? That’s not limited to a Hearts game, you know?” 

You couldn’t answer. 

“I’ll go,” he repeats. “Stay here.”

“When?” You ask him, lips jutting out almost into a pout. Your frown and scrunched-up forehead should tell him that you still don’t agree with this. “Tomorrow.” 

You put your head down. If he’s going to join a game, you couldn’t just wait around here for him to come home. It’s going to make you officially go insane, being alone here in Borderlands. 

You’ve never been alone since you met Usagi. Ever since you met her, you couldn’t believe you found an actual pure person here. She was a good friend and just like she’s done for Arisu, she’s the reason why you’re still alive and fighting for yourself.

It was time to join a game by yourself again. 

“Fine,” you say without looking at him, fronting how you’re just agreeing with him but already decided that you’ll leave once he’s out of sight.

He doesn’t say anything and just walks out of the room, finishing the conversation. 

You gave Chishiya the silent treatment the whole night. Were you sulking? Maybe. But you can’t really blame him. You were just upset. Was that a crime? You can be upset right? A person doesn’t have to be understanding every time. When you woke up, he was still beside you, staring at you with those deep brown eyes. Why is he looking at you like this? 

“What?” you deadpanned. 

“I’ll come back.” It wasn’t to assure you. It wasn’t a promise. It was simply a statement. He’ll come back. He’s sure of it. You trust him, yes. But maybe the reason you’re upset was because of something else. Worry? But not just for him. For him and yourself. 

What if you don’t come back from the game you’re joining? That would be a shame. He won’t even know and just find you gone. But he won’t allow you. So if you don’t allow him now, you’d be a hypocrite. 

“I know,” you answer softly, laying your armor down, and giving up the fight. He sits up on the bed, tugging on his white jacket that was folded by his bedside table and wearing it. It was cute to you how he still wears it. 

“We have many days left on our visa. Does it have to be today?” You ask him, sitting up too.

“I want to clear the games as fast as possible,” he answers. 

You understand that he wants to clear the Diamond games himself. What for? Absolutely nothing but curiosity and interest. He finds them fun and challenging even if his life was on the line. Sometimes, you think you worry more about his life than he does. 

He knows he’s clever. You know that too. But sometimes, he really needs to realize that he isn’t immortal or anything. You sigh. “A game could take days. What do I do here?”

“Rest. Did you forget you have an injured leg?” He was putting on his shoes now, turning his head for a second to give you a look. 

“No. But it’s fine now.” You really did feel better about your leg. “I want to look for the others.” 

“When I come back.” He refuses again and stands up, ready for his day. You poked your cheek with your tongue. He really doesn’t want you out of this house, does he?

The rest of the day goes by quietly. He planned to leave in the afternoon. So, you still had a meal with him before he left. Chishiya leaving was uneventful. He didn’t kiss you goodbye or offer you any words of assurance. He just… left. However, he did remind you to rest. 

But rest, you didn’t. 

You gave Chishiya 30 minutes before you left. It was 30 minutes for him to get far enough for you not to see him outside. It was getting dark and cold. You’ve decided to put on a hoodie, covering your sports bra. You slung the sword Kuina gave you over your shoulder and put your dagger back in its sheath that was attached to a wrap over your leggings. You figured that the gun might come in handy to you if you ever come face to face with the King of Spades. So, you took that too, putting it inside your small belt bag.

You head over to the nearest Spades game, knowing it will be a long walk. 

You were about 45 minutes away from the apartment and looking for a working car. However, you were failing. Every car out here is trashed. Plus, you weren’t very knowledgeable about fixing them up. 

So you had no choice but to walk.

Getting a bit tired, you decide to sit down on the sidewalk. 

However, not even five minutes of your resting have passed, you hear a scream. And then gunshots. Not just any gunshots. Rifles. 

You immediately stand up, hearing that dreadful sound could only mean one thing. 

And then you see the woman screaming, running with a few people behind her. 

The King of Spades was here.

You get on your feet, hearing and seeing his blimp in the sky. Your sneaker-clad feet pounded against the cemented ground, breathing steadily as your lungs pumped. Fuck. You can’t face him alone. 

You just ran, always choosing the safest option of direction while avoiding the gunshots. One direction led you to another then another, until you lost sight of the Spades game’s blimp. You were forced to go the other direction to another game. 

You ran and ran until you didn’t hear the gunshots anymore. Then you see it. A blimp for another game that wasn’t a Spades or Diamonds. It wasn’t your target but it also wasn’t Chishiya’s. 

Can you do it?

You don’t know which is more depressing: you ending up in a Hearts game or the grey walls of Teio Prison. 

PUT ON A COLLAR AND GO UPSTAIRS TO THE CENTRAL GUARDROOM

There were two collars left on the table. Shit. It’s the exploding kind of Heart game, huh? 

With a frown, you get one of the collars and clasp it around your neck. It makes a blip sound and some kind of shuffling sound. What could that be? Whatever it is, you know it’s no good.

Sighing, you make your way to the central guardroom, taking all your time in the world and observing the dark penitentiary. It’s giving you the creeps. You thought about what might have you waiting here. A Hearts game in prison? You really should’ve joined a Spade game. Man, fuck the King of Spades. This is all his fault. You just hope that Chishiya is doing well at a Diamon—

Chishiya?

As soon as you lift your head from looking at the stairs you were climbing, your line of sight catches that damned white jacket and white hair. What was he doing here? Didn’t he say he’d join a Diamonds game?

You didn’t let the shock show through your movements or countenance. Instead, you turn to your right and lock your eyes with him as you stand over the nearest wall from the stairs. 

Everyone was reserved and kept themselves at a distance from others. It wouldn’t look good if you just walked over to him like old buddies at a fair. It’s better to be strangers. But oh, he was mad. 

With the way his brows were slightly furrowed and his jaw was clenched, you try not to avoid his gaze and cower right there and then. Beside him, the agitated man in overalls follows Chishiya’s gaze over to you and then he whispers something to him. This made you look away, afraid he’ll know of your relations. While you busy yourself with observing the other players, you’re sure Chishiya made up a lie about you. 

You hear soft steps on the staircase and you know that the game is about to start. You notice that their feet were intentionally light. There was only one collar left downstairs. The person going up should be the last player.

He stops right at the end of the stairs, looking around at all the players who were avoiding his gaze. Well, except you and Chishiya. Lastly, his gaze lands on you who was right beside him. The corner of his lips curled up into a subtle sinister smirk. You raise a brow, tilting your head to the side. You already don’t like this guy. You poked your cheek with your tongue and crossed your arms, about to address his condescending stare when the screen attached to the wall lights up, indicating the game is starting. 

DIFFICULTY LEVEL Jack of Hearts 

The odd man’s eyes stray from yours when the automated voice is heard. You both look at the screen and listen attentively.

GAME SOLITARY CONFINEMENT

Rules:

Guess the card suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you may not look at the symbol yourself. This game is about how much you can trust one another.

The time limit is one hour per round.

In the final five minutes, enter the cell and state your symbol. 

When the time limit reaches zero, your collar will reset and change for each round. 

Beware that your opponent, the Jack of Hearts is hidden among you.

Looking at your symbol through reflection is not allowed.

Players may not use weapons or violence to kill fellow players.

GAME OVER If you do not guess your correct symbol, your collar will explode.

GAME CLEAR You win when the Jack of Hearts dies.

As the other players react to the rules and other details of the game, you are left to think for yourself. There’s no limit of hours to this game which means that betrayal is inevitable if we want to get out of these depressing walls. Someone has to lie to the Jack, kill him, and clear this game. Anyone could be the Jack, even Chishiya.

The game will now commence.  ROUND ONE

It’s complete silence as the buzzer rings throughout the penitentiary, indicating the start of the timer for an hour. The players are eyeing each and every one, probably looking for a trustworthy face to dictate their suits and fate. At least, now you know that Chishiya wouldn’t lie to you about your suit. Should you just go ahead and partner up with him? It shouldn’t look suspicious, right? 

Some players began to partner up as you still stand like a wallflower, watching as they form groups. 

“So, the 20 of us need to eliminate each other until we somehow figure out who the Jack of Hearts is.” A tall man in corporate attire speaks out loud, speaking to no one in particular beside the first two guys who decided to partner up. “What makes you think that anyone is trustworthy?”

The two guys who were just eager to tell each other’s suit began to grow wary, stepping away from each other hastily. Your brow furrows at this man. He was right but his aura exudes something dark and clouded, just like the man beside you who last joined the game. Could either of them be the jack? 

An arrogant-looking bald guy in chains that previously stood in the middle of the guardroom makes his way in your direction. Your senses are heightened, alert for any cause of disturbance. However, he shifts his way to your right, heading to the nervous-looking man in a blue checkered shirt with a smirk. 

He corners him, no doubt going to pressure him into telling him his suit. He’s a bully that found a mouse to play around with. That’s a wrong move. You watch from your peripheral as the man quivers and shakes from the bald man. “Tsk,” you couldn’t help but react distastefully. Thankfully, the bald man didn’t notice. It was taking everything in you not to intervene. 

The man beside you, however, hears your displeased reaction. Unfortunately, this puts his attention back on you. So you speak, gathering it’d be better to speak to someone, at least. If he was Jack, then he’d want to hear your next words.

“This game…” you utter in a low voice, wanting him to be the only one who hears. “Isn’t going to be cleared through shit like that.” 

The other players began to form a large group with the girl in a blue dress leading it. From the looks of it, this girl is also not to be trusted. Getting involved with a large group offers a far larger chance of betrayal. Especially with one person leading it and others blindly following whatever this person’s decision may be. 

“Forcing,” you refer to the bald man who was still bullying the blue-checkered shirt guy into telling him his suit. “Control,” you refer to the girl who has now gathered most of the players. She’s only put herself more at risk now that she aimed for control. Things could easily turn around if they don’t like the way how she handles things. And you could already tell. From here, she reeks of being fake and two-faced. That group should be the last choice for you. 

“This game is about trust.” You sigh. It seemed fairly easy but you could already tell that this game is going to be a messy representation of humanity. It seemed so fitting—a Hearts game of this difficulty being a face card. 

It’s a clever game, you have to admit. By now, every player in Borderland knows that you should never willingly enter a Hearts game with someone you want to get out of this world with. But this one puts you in a position of needing to have that someone with you in order to survive this game. No matter what, as long as you have one player you have here who you know you can trust, you’ll be able to walk out of here. 

You walk off, not waiting for the guy’s response. There was one hour for each round. You’re sure you can find a partner a little later if Chishiya won’t agree. It’s only the first round and you don’t think even the Jack of Hearts would start killing now. 

For now, you really need to see the food supply they were so proud of. As you head downstairs, you realize that the guy beside you followed you as you register his footsteps when you snapped out of your deep thoughts about the game. You stop in your tracks, waiting for the man to address what the hell is he after. Did he want to be partners? Well, you don’t really think that that’s a good idea for you.

“You’re that L/N.”

You turn around, looking at the source of the voice and the person who seems to know of your heritage. Without the thought of Chishiya startling you, you’re able to focus clearly on the man in front of you. He looked not older than you and Chishiya, a little taller than the both of you too. He was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt with an inner white shirt. His hair is dark and his eyes were tired, bags under them, and yet he did not look as tired. Instead, his eyes glimmer of malice and unexplainable darkness as he gives you a smirk.

“And who are you?” You question the man in front of you. You can’t quite put your finger on it but the man looked familiar—like you’ve seen him before Borderland. 

“Banda Sunato.” Again, familiar. You’ve heard of it, you’re sure. Was he famous for something? A family friend? A rich person? You really should've paid attention to the television more. 

Something tells you not to trust this man. This was a Hearts game, after all. No one could be trusted. Yet, if you partner yourself with Chishiya, who knows where that will lead? It’s unsafe and he’s a little mad right now. Truthfully, you are too. What can you say? You both are a stubborn bunch. 

“Banda? It’s familiar,” you truthfully ask him for some reason.

“Should be. I was in the news for a while.” The smirk hasn’t been wiped off his face. From then on, you were sure. Just like Niragi, this man is bad news. 

So you turn around again, ready to walk off and head to the food supply. However, a hand on your shoulder stops you. A glimpse of white flashes your eyes from above and you look up for a few seconds, meeting Chishiya’s eyes who were watching you from the floor above, leaning against a wall beside the man dressed in a yellow striped shirt and denim overalls. His jaw is clenched, lips tight, and even from his crossed arms, you see the tight fists forming from his hands. My, he’s almost making a frown too.

You don’t turn around to face Banda again but you break eye contact with Chishiya. You wait for him to speak and look at his frail hands on your shoulder. His hands are gentle, the perfect way to lure you in. You can see from the way his hands looked rough yet delicate—this man cannot fight. Worst comes to worst, you can take him down. But that didn’t matter. This is a Hearts game which means that most of these players are Hearts specialists, no doubt him being one too. You have to be smart about this. You can’t punch your way out of this one.

“I’m a serial killer,” he adds. 

You raise a brow, slowly turning your whole body to face him again. How could he just throw that out of nowhere like it’s a well-sought and respected occupation? And then you remember. Banda Sunato. It was what? One or two weeks? He was all that the news held. He was known to have murdered about four people, specifically women. A real psychopath heading for death row. It gives you the chills, having a real-life murderer standing in front of you and taking an interest in you. 

Does this man scare you? Maybe a little. Should you partner up with him? The normal and sane response would be no but there’s this irrational thought that keeps persuading you that maybe you can actually get through the game with this criminal. 

If what Asaki said in the Queen of Clubs game was real then it really is up to the citizens to design games. A serial killer designing a game inside Teio Prison. It seemed to fit like a puzzle that he would be the Jack of Hearts. 

That’s how you know that it’s possible that he might not be it. It was too easy and too obvious. 

“Are you asking me to partner up with you?” You ask with a poker face, jutting your chin up to compensate for the height difference. It’s funny how a murderer was asking you to trust him. It has to be the most stupid insinuation you have heard in your life. 

“I agree with what you said back there.” He answers, referring to what you said before walking off. “So I’m telling you who I am. It’s your choice, hospital princess. Will you trust a serial killer in this world?” 

Right now, you badly wanted to look up at Chishiya who is no doubt watching from the floor above. You want him to give you some kind of advice or answer for you. But you know he won’t. You’re on your own for this one. You sigh, mirroring his smirk and tilting your head. Don’t let him think he bothers you. “Can I think about it? I’m really hungry.”

“Of course,” he replies. And with one nod, you walk away from him, still feeling the serial killer’s eyes on you until you get away from the center of the lower floor. 

The cafeteria was indeed filled with shelves of food and drinks. As you stare at a wall of food, you are overwhelmed with the choices, not being used to seeing multiple foods that are actually still edible and you didn’t have to check their expiration date. You roam your eyes around, looking for something good to eat.

And then you spot that yellow bag of biscuits. Chishiya’s favorite. Seeing it made you grin to yourself. Oh, he’s gonna be so happy. Too bad you didn’t really like those cookies.

There were ramen cups and instant rice too but you figure that a snack would suffice so you grab yourself a packed strawberry cake roll and a chocolate drink. You missed sweets so much. You’re tired of eating instant noodles and whatever canned goods you could find in convenience stores.

There were a few people in the cafeteria. You didn’t like any of them as you stared at them. They stare at you too, probably working out if you were the Jack of Hearts. You give them a smile, one that is confident. Then you give them a nod, one that is out of respect. And then you leave the cafeteria.

You ate the sliced cake roll while walking around the penitentiary, observing the people and keeping the chocolate drink in your hoodie’s pocket. 

No one seemed like a safe option. The big group, the bald man and his mouse, the couple in business attire, Chishiya, and Banda. These are your options. 

And finally, you approach Chishiya and his partner who awfully reminds you of Minions because of his outfit. “Hey,” you talk to the overalls guy, purposefully ignoring Chishiya. “Do you guys have room for one more?”

The guy stutters, looking over to Chishiya for some kind of confirmation. Wow, he already trusts him this much? 

“We’re part of this group already,” Chishiya answers for him and points at the blue-dress girl. So they joined the big group? Huh. You wonder why. You know he knows that big groups are dangerous. Once one person’s trust is lost, they’ll go down like dominoes. 

It doesn’t matter, then. You only need Chishiya’s trust. But it seems that he doesn’t want you to join him here.

“Huh,” your reply now was for Chishiya. It’s crazy. He’s driving you insane. Is he still mad that you joined a game? If he cares so much about you then why won’t he just tell you your suit and—you don’t know, keep you alive? 

You place the last roll of cake in your mouth, chewing in front of the two guys. You give a nod at Chishiya who stares at you with curled-up lips, anticipating your next move.

This is dangerous, what you’ve decided to do. 

You could ask Chishiya again or his partner what your suit was and join their big group. But you don’t want to. 

You take a step back and Chishiya’s smirk drops. He wasn’t expecting that. He thought you’d try and persuade him to let you join his partnership with Ippei.

A strange feeling tugs your heart as you walk away from Chishiya. His presence is comforting. It calms you down in this game. And yet, you are walking away from him—from both your safety.

You aim to find the Jack of Hearts yourself. And you won’t be able to do that hiding from Chishiya’s back. 

As if on cue, Banda walks into the central guardroom with another guy behind him. He was tall and had this fringe covering almost half of his face. So he already found a partner after all.

“Replaced me so quickly?” You ask with a smirk as you punch your straw in the chocolate drink. 

“So you’ve decided.” His voice is as sinister as his whole being. It scares you. A lot. But you think you can trust him. You think.

“They all seemed… boring,” you answer truthfully. 

The man behind him watches you carefully and you give him a slight wave. “What’s up? I’m Y/N.”

“Matsushita,” he replies simply. 

You turn around, pulling off your hoodie and hair away from your nape. 

“Heart.” It was Banda who answered, then it was confirmed by Matsushita. 

You ask them if you need to tell them theirs but they said there was no need. You shrug, they must’ve already told each other. 

And so you were in Banda’s group. This is gonna be hella interesting.

You sit by the two guys as the hour passes, watching the other players interact and talk to each other. You don’t doubt that Banda told you your real suit. The killings won’t start yet. Not in the first round. 

“Are you not going to doubt me?” Banda asks you as you sit next to each other against a wall. Matsushita stands beside you, no doubt listening to your conversation now. 

This Matsushita—you don’t like him. He seemed quietly arrogant. Those are the worst kind of assholes. 

“No,” you admit. “You’re not going to lie to me yet.” 

“You still don’t trust me?” He asks but he knows the answer to that. “Then why would you join me? Your life is in my hands now.”

Your mind brings you back to a certain blonde-haired man. His smirks and his clever words. “I like my men a little deranged,” you answer with a shrug.

There was silence between you for a few seconds. The sound of your drinking is the only thing heard. Although you’ve long strayed your eyes from Banda, you still feel his eyes on you. He was thinking deeply, calculating you like a math problem. 

“You don’t like your life outside Borderlands,” he concluded. You pause, turning your head to look at the psychopath. What was he saying? “You’re reckless but smart. You know what you’re doing here. And yet you still paired up with me knowing I’ve murdered for nothing but pleasure. What makes you think I won’t kill you?” 

You scoff. “You won’t kill me in the first round. There needs to be some kind of push before the killing starts. Like a hand triggering dominos.” He listens to you and doesn’t answer for a while, thinking while a sinister smile spreads on his face. You know you’re right. 

“Just as I thought,” he answers before standing up.

The timer turns zero as he stands up and the voice of the game speaks again. 

“It is time to give your answer. Please enter a solitary confinement of your choosing.”

You walked side by side with Banda, stopping at a door next to his. From your peripheral, you could see that Chishiya chose a door two doors down from yours. You’re pretty sure you’re safe for the first round but you can’t help but panic. 

You enter a cell. It’s small and even more depressing than the outside. 

“Please give your answer.”

The speed of your heart beating rises, constricting the air in your lungs. An exploding neck should be one of the most gruesome ways to die in Borderlands. 

You calmly close your eyes, tuning out the panicked thoughts in your head. 

“Heart.”

Silence. 

A rush of relief passes you. Just as you thought. No one is dying in the first hour. 

You step out of the cell at the same time as everybody else does. Banda’s eyes were already on you when you looked at him, giving you the same sinister stare. You wink at him in return before walking off to follow the other players, not even staying to see his reaction.

“Round 2 begins now.”

In the center guardroom, the big group began to thank each other for being honest. You sat on your spot before, in the middle of a sitting Banda and a standing Matsushita. 

“I wonder how long is this going to go on for?”

Matsushita verbalizes the question in your mind. If there’s no trigger, the real game wouldn’t start. But it has to be soon. If not and all the players really are going to be honest with each other, then soon we’d be stuck in this prison in an endless cycle. Even if the food supply is abundant, each round lasts an hour. It’d be exhausting. One can’t get much sleep in an hour. We’d go insane in these dry walls.

“Either the Jack will start to kill or someone afraid of the Jack will start to kill. As Y/N said earlier, until a trigger happens, this will never end.” Banda’s the one who answered Matsushita’s question. 

Before you could give your thoughts, a body slams to the floor next to Banda. It was the boy in the blue-checkered shirt, being thrown off by the bald man in chains. 

“I told you to give me the answer!” The arrogant man screams in frustration. Everyone goes quiet as they watch the situation unfolds. This man couldn’t be more stupid, thinking he would win by using his fists over his partner. 

He was about to attack the man with a kick but you move faster than light, standing and throwing a kick to the man’s stomach before he could hurt the boy, sending him flying and landing on his bottom and away from you. You don’t know why you did it. You couldn’t stop yourself from saving him. Maybe it has become all too pathetic or too painful to watch. At times like these, you really miss Arisu and Usagi. You know they would’ve done the same. Maybe even better than you. 

“What the fuck?!” The man reacts, staring at you with glaring wide eyes. 

From behind you, Banda moves to the boy on the floor, whispering in his ear. You hear it all clearly. While he was asking if the boy was alright, he whispers that he should tell him his suit is a Club.

It was the wrong answer.

The man quickly stands up, glaring at you along the way. He heads for the boy again and you wanted to interrupt if it weren’t for you catching Chishiya’s gaze of disapproval and Banda holding your arm. You glance at Banda's hand on your arm and he lets go, walking back to his spot while the bald man begins holding the boy by his hair.

Don’t get involved, you could almost hear Chishiya’s voice in your head. It’s what he would say to you in this situation.

“Looks to me that you want another beating.” He punches the boy in the face and you put your head down. 

“Give me the answer!” He raises his fist, threatening to throw another punch if the boy doesn’t speak.

“C-club!” The boy stuttered out an answer.

“Huh?!” The man wants him to repeat it louder.

“Club!” he answers, firmer this time yet he still closes his eyes, readying himself for another punch.  

The fist doesn’t come. Instead, the man taps his face like he’s a good dog. “Don’t wait so long next time.” And he lets go of the boy’s hair roughly, making the boy lean on his palms to support himself again on the floor. Then he collapses his body on the floor, curling up and turning into a sobbing mess.

The man passed by Chishiya and his partner, walking through the other players and all of you could see clearly. 

The bald man’s symbol is a Diamond.

“It’s the trigger,” Banda whispers in your ear, making the hair at the back of your head rise. Ah. That’s why he manipulated the boy into saying the false suit. It was to finally start the game.

It didn’t matter now. All is said and done. The boy lied in front of everybody by choice. The wall of trust is broken. 

The game is finally starting… and you couldn’t help but think that it’s your doing.

Just as expected, the lies and mischief started when the bald man’s neck blew up. Everyone is scared, wondering if they’re going to be next.

To make matters worse, the big group recruited the boy who first lied. You can tell that Urumi, the girl in the blue dress, wanted to eliminate him in case he was the Jack. Having such a mischievous leader, that group is going to end up in flames.

“You’re no princess, after all.” You don’t know if Banda is talking about your eating habits or show of skill in the previous round. 

Still, you glare at Banda as you eat potato chips this time around, craving something salty. There was silence as you two sat side by side in the central guardroom. Matsushita has gone to the cafeteria to get some snacks of his own. 

You wonder what Chishiya was doing right now. He’s in the cafeteria with the big group. You’re incredibly bored.

“Underground fighter,” you suddenly say. Banda doesn’t answer but you know he’s intrigued and listening.

“I’m an underground fighter,” you finish your sentence. 

“I see,” he replies as if that answers a lot of questions for him. “Blood, sweat, and glory. It appeals to you.” 

You nod. “I’m a Spades player.”

“Then you’ve definitely fought harder here than back there in the real world.” 

He was right. You thought back to the games you were in—all the games where you had to fight for yourself. It was life or death and yet it gave you that feeling of rush. To put your life on the line gives you an unexplainable feeling that you loved and craved.

“You crave death.” His sudden words make you freeze. “You’re not afraid of being hurt because you want it. You like it more when it’s about to kill you. Because you want it, don’t you? The reason you’re so reckless is that you have nothing to lose. It doesn’t matter if you die today or tomorrow. It’s why you partnered up with me. Because you’re more at risk with me.” 

His face has become awfully close to yours, inches away. He hadn’t put on a smirk this time. Instead, he stares at your soul like he’s known you all your life or he can read you like an open book. Unlike Chishiya, you found nothing but an abyss in his soulless eyes. 

Was it true? Is the reason why you loved fighting so much… because you’re suicidal? You thought about it a lot. That maybe one night, you might just meet your match and finally die in that ring. No one will know. You’ll just disappear into thin air. That was how the underground worked. It was a thought that scared you but somehow calmed you.

If this doesn’t work today, then you’ll just die. But every night, you prove yourself wrong. You win. Was it just a battle with yourself that you deserve to win with the risk of dying?

“What shall you do?” He tilts his head to the side. “I think I plan to keep you alive until the end.” 

The shake in your eyes is probably noticeable now. So you furrow your brows. This man is not the Jack of Hearts. He wants to win this as much as you do. But why? You assume that this is just fun for him, seeing so many deaths. 

Fine, you’ll play the game.

“I want to live,” you firmly say. 

“Why?” He asks. “Why do you want to live?” 

It was almost the same question Chishiya asked you back at The Beach. While Chishiya asked you what was so valuable about your life in the real world, Banda asked you why you want to live. It’s just two questions—two questions that are somehow related to each other. Unfortunately, you don’t have the answer to that yet. Life has never appealed to you. It brought you more bad than good and yet you want to live. Do you deserve to? Probably not. But you don’t care. As long as you can, you will fight to live. 

“So I can live freely. Here.” A lie. But you sensed that that’s what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t much of a secret. If you’re a criminal on trial, which is a better world to be in? A boring, stupid world where you’re on death row or a cruel one where people die every day? Where everyone is equal? Where it doesn’t matter how rich or poor you are or what you’ve done or what you haven’t done? Where all that matters is you play the game and survive? You… what would you choose?

He seemed satisfied with your answer, pulling away and looking ahead with his hands on his knees again. “I think… this world is a perfect one.” 

You couldn’t believe it. Did you just agree to an invitation to live in Borderlands? Maybe that’s really how this all ends. When you win the games, maybe it will just be your turn to make them. And then what? Maybe this is really Hell and you’re supposed to die here. 

If you’re a citizen, then you would probably work on the Spades games. Banda would definitely be in charge of Hearts. What about Chishiya? He’ll be in Diamonds, for sure. Is it really possible? A world where you and Chishiya could rule and be free? 

You shake the thoughts away. No. This can’t be it. If that were to happen, then you’re not free. You won’t ever be. Not here. You thought back to that man in the tunnel and what he made you do. You don’t want any of that any more than necessary. You won’t have blood on your hands anymore.

And just like that, an agreement is made between you and the serial killer. 

You’ll work together to know more about the citizens. Meaning, you have to catch the Jack of Hearts and interrogate him into telling you more.

For the next round, the boy in the blue-checkered shirt did not survive the lies of the big group. As expected, he isn’t the Jack of Hearts. 

You were getting some snacks in the cafeteria with Matsushita, even getting some food for Banda. You haven’t seen him eat at all the whole game. Are psychopaths incapable of knowing when to eat too?

You notice Matsushita getting the same brand of biscuits that he has been getting each round. Were those really good? You know you’ve tried them once before and there wasn’t really anything special about it. Nah. There was something off about it. How could he just keep getting the same snacks?

Chishiya’s group is mostly at the cafeteria during the rounds. Though, instead of sitting with them, he’s usually at a table beside them with the minion guy whose name you learned is Ippei. He’s just there, eating away his damned biscuits. Sometimes, he would even put four pieces into his mouth while staring into your eyes. Damn, he really missed them, huh?

From what you’ve eavesdropped on, things are starting to get messy with the big group. The blue-dressed girl is starting to turn on her members one by one. Now, you realize that the sole purpose of her making the group is to gain control over who dies first. As if she could get the Jack that way.

For the next few rounds, they fall like dominos. Their pictures are blacked out on the screen as if they’re players on a game show. They were visibly and loudly stressed, the members of the big group. Soon, they’ll be out like a light.

By round nine, you noticed that Chishiya and Ippei were somewhat separated from the group but are still there, opting to not include themselves in their arguments. He really just needs Ippei, you think. 

Banda has been keeping you alive so far. And you don’t think he’s been lying to you so far in any of your conversations alone with him. However, it’s Matsushita that has been suspicious. 

You have a feeling that he’s planning to eliminate Banda somehow. But you aren’t sure how. Does he think Banda’s the Jack of Hearts? 

And those biscuits. You’ve figured it out by round six. He’s communicating with the girl in office attire, the one with the boyfriend who was keeping her away from all the other players for protection. Yaba and Kotoko are their names if you remember them right from the screen. 

If the girl’s communicating with Matsushita then that means that she doesn’t trust her partner. From afar, Matsushita and Kotoko looked awfully submissive to their partners, Yaba and Banda. So, they’ve been scheming, acting like they’re being controlled.

Then it was just seven of you. You, Banda, Matsushita, Yaba, Kotoko, Chishiya, and Ippei. 

Ippei has been distressed the whole game. Unlike the people here who have been tainted by the games, he was pure. You’re glad Chishiya found a partner like him. 

But he’s wavering. And not in the way the others wavered into lying to save themselves. In fact, the boy looked disgusted with all the lies and killing. Just how did he survive all those games before?

“Y/N.” 

An agitated beckoning whisper pulls you back from your worry for Chishiya’s well-being and partner. It was Matsushita, looking around like he was wary of someone.

Huh. He’s going to try and eliminate me.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning worry.

“Did you know that Banda’s a serial killer?” He asks like it’s new information.

You raise your brows and freeze from getting a snack on the shelf, turning your head to the man acting like you are in pure shock. “W-what?” 

“Before Borderlands. In the real world, he’s a serial killer. I think we should eliminate him. He may be the Jack of Hearts.” He explains distraught. 

Before you can react to his acting, Banda strides into the cafeteria. You shift and give the entering man a smirk. 

“Got that thing you brought me last time?”

You nod and reach for the snack and throw it in his direction. He catches it with ease as it lands on his stomach. 

“Let’s go back to the guardroom,” Banda says to both of you, taking a swift glance at Chishiya and his partner who was sitting on one of the tables as well. 

You follow Banda closely, wanting so badly to take a glance at the man in the white jacket when you feel his burning gaze following you and Banda. 

Chishiya’s all alone for the next round. You gathered that maybe Ippei couldn’t handle the mental pressure and eliminated himself because you don’t think that Chishiya would’ve given him the wrong answer when he needed him so much. He’s probably in the cafeteria all alone right now. Matsushita’s heading there right now to get his biscuits, leaving you alone with Banda just right outside the hall of the cafeteria. 

You don’t know why but you feel like this is the final round. 

Oddly, Banda’s keeping a close eye on you. You wonder if it’s because of him seeing you and Matsushita talking. 

He put a hand in front of you when you wanted to follow Matsushita into the cafeteria. You hope that he doesn’t think you don’t trust him anymore. 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” 

You break the silence with a mutter. And then he smirks, confirming your question. Matsushita’s the Jack of Hearts. He was right there beside you all along. 

You don’t say anything more, knowing that Matsushita’s about to come back any minute. You notice that Yaba gave Banda a glance when he passed. Either he finds Banda suspicious or they’ve been communicating too. 

By now, it’s you who’s not sure if you can still trust him.

“I won’t lie to you.” Banda is the one who speaks now, still not looking at you. “You don’t have to worry.” 

It was oddly comforting that you almost forgot that you were talking to a psychopath who kills women, of all people. However, you stayed quiet and nodded. 

Matsushita’s taking a bit long taking his biscuits and you know that Chishiya must’ve spoken to him in there somehow. He doesn’t have a partner, after all. Someone has to tell him about his suit. You want to do it for him but Banda’s keeping an eye on you.

When Matsushita appears again, Banda asks him what happened.

He fidgets on his biscuits packet and then answers. “The Jack of Hearts. I think that it’s that guy.” Then he points to Chishiya’s picture on the screen.

“I thought he was suspicious too,” Banda replies while looking up at the screen. 

“Hm. He did seem quiet through all of this.” You add. There was no point in denying Chishiya being suspicious. You nod at Matsushita as if complimenting him on his observance. But honestly, you want to punch his stupid fringe away from his eye. 

“Well, don’t worry.” He looks at you and Banda proudly. “He’ll die this round. I promise you that.” 

“Good,” you tell him and give him a smile but your blood was boiling deep inside. You wanted to punch him. He definitely lied to Chishiya about his suit back there. 

Fuck. How will you save him? How will you protect him? Think. I have to get out of Banda’s sight.

“Let’s tell each other’s symbol then,” you suggest. “I’ll go first.”

You turn around, lowering your hood and parting your hair from the back. Again, it’s Banda who first speaks up.

“Club.” 

When it was confirmed by Matsushita, he turned around. With Matsushita’s back turned to you and Banda, Banda gives you a glance and smirks. It was time. 

“Spade,” Banda says. 

You nod even if Matsushita couldn’t see it. “Spade,” you agree.

Then it was Banda’s turn. 

This time, Matsushita’s the one giving you a look.

“Spade,” Matsushita claims. 

You nod at Matsushita. “Spade.” 

Banda turns around and looks at the two of you as if assessing your faces. 

“Hm,” he hums. “I’m going to the restroom.” 

Finally, you’re free of this psychopath. 

“I’m going to get some snacks while you’re at it,” you reply. 

You watch as Banda walks away and turns into a corner. Just as you were about to walk off, Matsushita pulled you to the side.

“You’re a Heart. Banda lied to you.” He whispers in your ear. 

So his plan is to kill all of you here.

You nod and thank him. “Good. Thanks.” You whisper back and head to the cafeteria. 

However, just as you were about to leave the guardroom where Matsushita also is, Chishiya walks in. Fuck. How were you going to tell him his suit if he wasn’t there anymore?

You’re sure he still doesn’t know it. Matsushita lied to him and you’re sure Kotoko wouldn’t tell him anything. It’s up to you to give him some kind of sign. 

You take a swift glance at his nape. Diamond. How fitting for him. 

In the cafeteria, you got yourself some sweets and a chocolate drink again. There has to be some kind of sign you could give him. You look through the different kinds of snacks, wondering if you could sneak a tiny piece of paper into them. But that’d be too obvious. And you’d have to give him the snack. 

Then Matsushita’s biscuits catch your eye. 

Hm. You’re sure Chishiya would’ve noticed it too, right?

Hastily, you grab the pack of biscuits with the color of the wrap corresponding to his symbol and exchange it with your cake. Just as Matsushita and Kotoko have been doing.

Walking into the central guardroom, you munch on the cookies loudly and everyone turns their head to you, Chishiya included.

Please get it. 

Banda’s already there beside Matsushita and he was staring at you like a hawk. When you approach them, you wave the biscuits in front of Matsushita’s face.

“Yo, I tried your biscuits and I can see why you can’t get enough of them,” you say and bring another piece into your mouth. “Hey Banda, do you think we can get some of these supplies if we win?” 

“Maybe,” Banda actually replies to the stupid question. 

You hum, nodding while you chew your food. 

Your palms were cold inside the pockets of your jacket as you stand in front of the cell’s door. You’re a Club. Not a heart. It’s okay. You’ll be fine. 

Banda gives you one last glance with his dark eyes before opening his cell door and getting in. When he’s out of your view, Matsushita takes your line of sight. He gives you a nod as if you’re really partners and has deceived Banda. 

You noticed that he hasn’t even held his cell’s knob, waiting for you to get in. You sigh internally. You wanted to be the last one to get in and tell Chishiya his suit verbally. 

However, Chishiya has already opened his cell and gone in. You close your eyes and lick your lips, suddenly anxious. The lights inside this penitentiary are starting to hurt your eyes. The walls are dim as the lights are. No doubt prisoners go insane. 

Sighing, you open your cell and go in. 

“Please give your answer.”

Who do you trust? Banda or Matsushita? The Jack of Hearts or a serial killer?

Well, if you die then you die. 

“Club.”

A loud explosion is heard across the cells and your hands shot up to your neck. When it hits you that your neck is untouched and still very much attached to your body, you lean your back on the wall of the cell in relief. You’re alive. Banda hasn’t lied to you. Not even once. 

Then who died?

Anxiously, you wait inside your cell as you hear a cell door creak open. You’re not getting out there yet. Not without knowing who’s out there. 

A sinister laugh echoes through the halls and the cells. Matsushita. The Jack of Hearts. Has he thought he won? 

Then another door opens. You wait patiently, hoping it’s Chishiya. 

And then you hear that voice.

“I had a feeling you were the Jack of Hearts.”

Glee and relief rush through your veins and you smile with your head down. He’s alive, after all. That’s good.

“How did you—“ Matsushita is probably confused, thinking he successfully deceived everyone and won his own game. 

“You teamed up with Banda from the start and he’s a murderer so it just made sense,” Chishiya continues. 

“But Y/N teamed up with Banda too and she died,” he even tries to argue, thinking he really got you with his plan.

“Maybe. But Banda approached her first. You, however, approached him first and were moved by his little monologue. Still, I know you didn’t trust him. Not that fast.”

Then another cell opens. “Most people won’t even talk to a guy like me but you wanted to kill me. I could sense that in you right away.” It was Banda as you expected. “So I wanted to see if you were smart or just stupid or whether you were a true psychopath.”

“You mean…” You could sense the frightened tone in Matsushita’s voice, probably in disbelief. Still leaning against the wall and listening, you cross your arms and put a foot against the wall. You don’t want to come out yet. For some reason, it feels safer to be in isolation from those men.

“You thought you were controlling me this whole time but I was manipulating you into thinking that way. Ultimately, it was your huge superiority complex that gave you away.” 

Banda’s voice got clearer by the last sentence which means he’s right outside your door. 

“That kind of self-importance usually comes from being put into a special position—something that made you untouchable. In this case, it’s being chosen as the Jack,” Chishiya explains further.

And then your door opens, revealing you to the three men. You raise your head, finding that it was Banda who opened your cell. Banda gives you a proud look as you step out of your cell. Matsushita’s eyes widen at the sight of you alive and well. Behind him, Chishiya gives you a little wave. 

“Sorry. We already exchanged symbols before the three of us did.” You tell Matsushita. Betrayal doesn’t feel so great now, doesn’t it?

“You guys are wrong. Banda’s the Jack of Hearts!” Matsushita points at Banda, looking stressed and agitated.  

“Sorry, kid. It’s not Banda.” Yaba claims as he walks into the hall with his hands in his pockets. He must’ve slipped out of his cell as soon as the timer ended. 

Matsushita’s lips tremble at the sight of another player he failed to kill. “You and Kotoko were communicating. I told Kotoko her symbol and yet she still died. Which meant that Kotoko was being manipulated by someone other than me.” 

“Well then,” Matsushita nods, then points at Chishiya. “You should be accusing this guy.” 

“Whenever I went to the cafeteria, you and Kotoko would be there, getting snacks at the same time.” Chishiya is quick to counterpoint. A smile spreads across your face. So he did notice. “And every time, you’d get the exact same kind of snack. You and Kotoko were secretly communicating in the cafeteria.” 

“Both of you were just pretending that you were being controlled,” Chishiya concludes. 

“There were four different flavors of the snack,” you add, inserting your hands inside your jacket pockets and pulling out the empty packet of the biscuits you’ve eaten for Chishiya. “You would confirm your symbols by checking the packaging, using those snacks as a code with each other.”

You shifted your gaze from Matsushita to Chishiya and smiled sweetly, waving the empty packet. “I knew you’d caught on pretty quickly, Shuntaro.” 

Chishiya smiles back at you, raising a brow. “Yes. That’s how I got to know my symbol for this round. Thank you, Y/N.” 

“W-what? You two knew each other?” Matsushita is yet again shocked at another deception. Even Banda raises his brow, gazing from Chishiya to you.

“Kinda. It’s complicated.” You answer with a smirk and then shrug, tilting your head. 

Before the Jack of Hearts or Chishiya could react, Yaba speaks up again, reminding you to go back to the topic. “And then you told Kotoko to give me the wrong symbol. I really did trust her.” Yaba sighs. “Except at the end,” he finishes. He seemed really disappointed about it. Wow, he really planned to protect her till the end. It’s such a shame. But you understand Kotoko. You’d hate it too, the feeling of being controlled. 

Matsushita is short of breath because of his anger. “When did the four of you start working together?” 

“Well, the very first announcement said that this game is about how much we can trust one another. So we simply followed that principle.” As Yaba says that, Banda still has his eyes on you. 

“In order to gain someone’s trust, you can’t control, manipulate, or guide them in any way. You can’t brainwash them or hypnotize them, lie to them, or instill fear.” Yaba states what you basically said to Banda at the beginning of the game as he walks and stops beside you and Banda.

“It’s called equality,” he finishes his monologue.

“Wait a second, how can you be sure that it’s me? The Jack of Hearts could easily be any of you guys.” He looks at each and every one of you. However, nobody listens to his attempt to save himself. 

“Okay, maybe I did try to blame everything on you by setting you up, but look! That’s not enough. You don’t have proof that I’m the Jack of Hearts!”

“You sure about that?” Chishiya teases. 

“Huh?” Banda bites his teasing, confused.

“Just think about it. If they suspected that you were the Jack, then why did you survive the last round? Why didn’t Banda and Y/N lie? Tell you the wrong thing? The reason that you’re still alive is that you’re the Jack.” As he explains, Chishiya walks closer to him. Matsushita’s eyes were drowning in realization.

“These guys planned to keep you alive because they decided they wanna get information out of you,” he whispers but it’s still loud enough for all of you to hear. 

Matsushita turns to face the three of you in horror. Banda and Yaba begin to approach him. With Chishiya on his back and the two approaching him like predators targeting their prey, he was cornered. 

“Round 14. Start.”

Stupidly though, he decides to run. He turns and pushes Chishiya out of the way, running in the opposite direction. It made Chishiya stumble but he was able to balance himself and stay on his feet. Banda looks over at you and you sigh. 

You were obviously faster than the lanky arrogant guy, catching up with him before he could even get to half of the hall. You leap into the air and kick his back, sending his face to the floor. As he grunts in pain, you lift his head through his hair. 

You drag him across the floor as he panics and screams. Pushing one of the cell doors open, you throw him inside, his body hitting the ground with a loud thud. 

Yaba enters the cells first, taking off his coat and you stand on the side. Matsushita looks up at him, scared and weakened. Banda enters next, holding a shaver and a knife. You try not to react knowing what will happen next.

Banda gives you a smirk as you stand against the wall of the small confinement. “Thank you, darling.” He tilts his head while saying it and your face heats up, both a little frightened and surprised at the nickname.

“What are you doing?!” Matsushita cries.

Yaba began to tell him the reason why they were going to torture him. It was suddenly too crowded for four of you in one cell. Oh god. This is going to be gruesome. Do you have to stay here with them?

“Y/N,” Chishiya calls out your name from outside the cell. “Let’s go.” 

You look at him and his face doesn’t look like it’s going to accept any answer other than yes. You look over to Matsushita who was shaking in fear. His eyes met yours and they were pleading for you to help him. You huff and look away. 

“I’m sorry that we won’t be able to kill you.” Banda crouches down to become face-to-face with Matsushita. “But there are other ways to have fun.” 

As Bands holds the blade against his face, you take it as an opportunity to slip out of the cell. Matsushita’s screams fill the halls of the penitentiary. You and Chishiya stood side by side outside the cell, listening to whatever information Banda and Yaba were getting out of him.

The splurts of blood and the scream for help by Matsushita made you squirm as you sat on the floor against the wall with Chishiya standing by your side. They didn’t get much out of him. 

The torture lasted for an hour. 

When it was time to give his symbol, Matsushita immediately said the wrong answer. Then, the game was cleared. 

You and Chishiya walk together outside of the penitentiary, already having retrieved your weapons. It’s already morning. The two of you look up to the sky to see the Jack of Hearts’ blimp explode. This is the second game you’ve been in. How the hell did you even survive that without Chishiya telling you your suits? 

Banda and Yaba were walking out of the penitentiary side by side before you and Chishiya could even get far from the prison. 

Banda still had his eyes on you as he left Yaba and walked over in your direction. You stop, waiting for the serial killer, and see what he has to say. You grip the strap of the Katana’s sheath tighter to brace yourself for any attack, though you doubt that he would be able to attack you.

“My offer still stands.” 

You don’t know what it is that makes you so intriguing to Banda but you were grateful that it kept you alive throughout the game. However, no matter how odd it may sound, you don’t trust Banda as much as you did inside the game. Outside the game, he still looked like a serial killer who would kill you in the middle of the day. He also said that he only planned to keep you alive till the end of the game. So what about after that?

It did not appeal to you, the invitation to rule this world along with him. He wanted to be a citizen. You feel like Yaba does too. But you? You know you don’t want to. But what if Chishiya wants to? 

Before you could answer, Chishiya does it for you.

“No.” 

You whip your head to the guy behind you, with his chin up and hands inside his pockets. “She’s with me.” 

Banda doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are still on you. “She told me she likes her guys a little deranged.” 

“Exactly,” Chishiya answers again. “Key word: Little.” 

“And I’m assuming that’s you?” Banda finally looks at Chishiya, subtly sizing him up with his dark eyes and smirk. You don’t know what’s happening but you’re not a fan of it.

You step up in front of Chishiya, putting yourself in Banda’s line of sight. He shifts his eyes to you. You glare up at him through your lashes, brows furrowed and frowning like a lioness protecting her cub. It was a poisonous stare that made Banda’s lips curl up in amusement, the same strange gleam in his eyes sparkling like before.

There were no words you had to say as your eyes bore into his, fronting every confidence you have to make him get away from you and Chishiya without a fight. 

“Such a shame,” Banda says. “If you change your mind, or if anything happens and you’re alone, I’m sure we’ll find each other.”

You nod, doing anything for him to get out of your sight even with his frightening last statement. He leaves with Yaba. It seemed he made a companion for the rest of the games anyway. 

When you can no longer see their silhouette, you turn around to face Chishiya, he gives you an unamused look. You frown, already knowing what he’s thinking.

“You didn’t listen,” he scolded.

“You asked me to stay put!” You complain, throwing your arms around. “I can’t just do that.”

“So you go ahead and join a Hearts game? Really?” He starts to turn around and walk while speaking. You follow him hastily, grunting.

“I was supposed to go to a Spades game but the King of Spades showed up. You? What’s your excuse?” You cross your arms as you now walk side by side. 

Chishiya had his hands in his jacket’s pockets. You sigh when you hear his answer. “The King of Spades too, huh? He really doesn’t rest.” 

“Right. Do you think I can take him on?” You ask this time. If there weren’t guns involved. You think you could do it. Maybe. You don’t know. You’ve fought war veterans back in the underground. He seemed to be one of them. 

“No.” Chishiya didn’t even sugarcoat it.

“Then, we have to find Arisu and the others. It’d be better to try and take him down with numbers.” You think out loud.

“Just leave it to them, won’t you?” Chishiya suggests. This makes you frown once again. You really didn’t want to do that.

“No. I want to try and face him. The King of Spades.” You declared. 

Chishiya doesn’t answer anymore but you know he disapproves of it. You two were both doing it lately, just doing whatever the hell you wanted without caring about what the other might think. You’re starting to think that Borderlands is rubbing off on you.

And then you remember the game. 

“Hey, you asshole. You didn’t even try to partner up with me during the game. What if Banda lied to me?” You huff.

He sighs. “I did try to tell you every round. It was how many cookies I ate.”

Oh… Oh! That’s why he was eating four pieces at a time. 

“I slipped the meaning of each count in one of your favorite snacks and you took it. I thought you saw what I wrote. Idiot.” 

“What the…” you were in disbelief, a hand over your mouth. You stop in your tracks, pressing your lips together dramatically and lifting your head as if you were preventing yourself from crying. 

You point to Chishiya. “You’re telling me… I trusted Banda all throughout the game when I could have known my suit every round?”

Chishiya kept walking, not even bothering to look at your dramatic acting. However, you hear him mutter the word idiot one more time. 

You can’t believe this. He still looked out for you. How much of a dumbass are you to not see that fucking note he left in your snack?

“What was the offer Banda made you?” 

You know he’d grow curious about it. He was probably itching to ask about it the moment the murderer walked away. You’ll have to congratulate him for only asking about it now that you’ve found another place to stay at.

It was closer to the center of Tokyo. Now that you know that the King of Spades was roaming around the outskirts of the city, it’s safer for you to be here. Chishiya was right about his hunch as usual. If only you expected it to happen sooner.

“Banda… he wants to be a citizen.”

The thought of the psychopath still gives you goosebumps. He was scary. He’s the kind of man you’d rather avoid than beat up. You wonder what game he went to next. Did he go with Yaba? They seemed to get along after the game.

“And?” Chishiya presses.

“He thinks that I should be one too. He wanted me to join him in staying here. He said I was just like him.” It was funny. How could a psychopath compare himself to you? Somehow, it makes you think. Are you really just like him in some way?

“What a load of crap,” Chishiya muttered as he leaned on the wall of the room, arms crossed with his hood down. You’re currently staying at a condominium. Specifically, your home. 

You were curious if it was still here. Surprisingly, it was. So is this world really just a mirror of the real world, just abandoned? 

“What?” You barely heard what he said so you asked in case you heard it wrong. 

You’ve just finished cleaning it to be habitable to the best of your abilities. You’re just staying here for one night anyway. You just wanted to see it for a while.

“Why are we here?” Chishiya answers your question with another. 

You give him a glare before jumping on your bed. Your back hits the soft mattress, the exhaustion catching up with you. It just hit you that you were awake all night because of the game. “I missed my bed too much.”

“You can go back to your bed once you get back to the real world.” 

When I’m back in the real world, huh? To be honest, your time with Banda is on your mind. What if… There really is no end to this? You need to keep your mind open and have no expectations. You need to prepare yourself for anything.

“How optimistic of you, Shuntarou.”

“How the tables have turned.” Chishiya chuckles in a low voice. “Tell me, has Banda gotten into your head?” 

You scoff but let your silence answer his question. This made Chishiya sigh out loud. As you stare up at the ceiling, you feel the edge of the mattress sink, indicating Chishiya sat down with his back turned to you. 

“It’s just… What if this is really it? What if we can’t go back? What if this really ends when we die? Like Asaki and Matsushita?” You were thinking out loud and indulging Chishiya in it. You’re sure he’s listening. He always was. Even if sometimes you didn’t feel like he was. 

“He asked me why I want to live so much.” You were still staring up at the ceiling, your eyes focused on absolutely nothing. “And you asked me what was so valuable back in my life that I want to go back.”

You pause and think. 

Let’s say that somehow, you are able to go back and finally leave Borderlands? What happens when you’re back in the real world? It’ll be the same. High heels, full-course meals, boring meetings, attending parties, drinking wine. Then, once in a while, you’ll risk your life in underground fights. When you win, you’re back at the hospital, chasing around a guy that you’re not even sure if he wants you. 

And then there’s your father. 

Knowing that piece of shit, he most probably doesn’t care that you’re gone. He never wanted you anyway. You were just a product of an unwanted pregnancy with a whore who chased him around. Well, that’s what he told you multiple times. 

Your mother wasn’t a whore. She was just a girl in love. She loved him and he loved her too. However, he didn’t see a future with her because of her status. She was a nurse and he wanted someone better, someone more powerful. So, when he learned she was pregnant, he pushed her away. 

It broke her heart so much that it killed her months after you were born.

Your father regretted it so much that he loathed you. You were only a reminder of what he lost—of his mistakes. Still, your father never married and you don’t know why when he would insult you and your mother any time he could. You wish he just did so he could look at something else other than you. He took you in, gave you a roof over your head, and fed you but never raised you. You were raised by maids, tutors, and your grandparents who were just as cold but at least they cared more. 

There was never a person you could say that was your own just because they are. You never really felt alive. You had no family. Your friends never really felt like your friends. The money you spend away is never really something you earned. And the person that makes your heart race… was with you because he was after something else. 

Maybe Borderlands is better.

Here, Chishiya is something else. He was still the same, cruel and selfish. But here, you tasted his lips. You don’t know if that’s just him being affected by the apocalyptic situation you’re in but you were still happy it happened. 

You’re happy here because the people around you here, they’re reaching for you—actually you. They wanted you. They weren’t reaching for their past lover that birthed you, weren’t reaching for a few paid bottles of alcohol or food, weren’t reaching for social connections, weren’t reaching for wealth, weren’t reaching for a punching bag—weren’t reaching for anything at all but for some reason, their hands found you first. 

And so they settled. 

But here, you found Arisu and Usagi who relied on you and you relied on them. Here, you can feel that Chishiya cares about you. Here, he wore the jacket you gave him.

“Chishiya…” A tear fell out of your eye. You didn’t even realize that you were on the verge of crying. “I think I can accept it. If this is the end for me.” 

Ice-cold skin collides with your laid out hand on the bed and you almost jump in shock because of the temperature. 

Chishiya who still had his back turned to you, reached out for your hand… and held it. 

You can’t see his face, not when he wasn’t letting you. Chishiya never liked skinship. He was always eager to push you away whenever you tried to initiate it. You respected it though. You would always annoy him only with your words but you always remembered to keep your boundaries. 

But here he was, with his hand on top of yours. 

Honestly, it was more awkward than comforting. Your hand is frozen in place, unsure of what’s happening. The room was dim and you don’t have a clue what his face looked like right now. Never has Chishiya ever shown you empathy in words or in actions. This is the first time he has ever touched you like this.

“Shuntarou?” It was a whisper, calling out his attention and at the same time asking him why he was holding your hand. “What’s wrong?”

Like a feather, his touch is soft and fleeting. Within seconds after your question, his hand lifts off of you as if it was never really there. 

Before you know it, your bed dips on each side and you realize that Chishiya is now hovering over you with his hands on either side of your head and knees on either side of your legs. 

Your breath hitches and heat immediately rushes to your face at the intimate position. The air is suddenly heavier as the atmosphere changes. You see his face through the moonlight coming from the window. Up close, Chishiya’s face is clearer like you can memorize every detail and be able to draw it like a portrait artist with a photographic memory. 

His brow was slightly furrowed and his lips were parted slightly. He was staring you down right in the eye like he was trying to say something. They were blazing as if he was raging, his mind boggled into a million words but he couldn't speak of it.

You blink, confused as your gaze fleets to his lips, remembering your previous kisses. 

And then his gaze finally softens and a hand that was digging the mattress beside you moves to your face. It caresses your cheek and you involuntarily lean into his hold. Then, it moves up to your head, pushing your hair back away from your face so he could see it more clearly.

Your eyes sparkle in front of him. The untied lower half of his white hair is falling in your direction. You always loved the length of his hair. Sometimes, you would crave to run your hands through them. However, that was just a fantasy before.

Longing. Comfort. Lust. Which one of these three is he trying to say to you? 

His hand stops on your cheek, wiping away the tears with his thumb. Then, his hand moves to your lips, thumb pressing into the soft parted flesh, caressing it. It stops in the middle and presses further. 

You decide to take things further, the hell with whatever he was trying to do. You parted your lips and encircled his thumb with your mouth as you stared up at him intensely. Your wrapped lips suck him in and you see his brows rise and eyes darken. You let your tongue run through his finger, sucking like you would another part of him. And finally, with a loud pop, you let his thumb go. 

For a few seconds, all you could do is stare at each other with overwhelming lust in your eyes. Whatever the conversation was earlier, long forgotten. Right now, the need for each other is heightened, your core being awakened. His mouth finds yours immediately, smashing one another with a burning passion. His hips lower and you feel the hardening of his center on your abdomen. You lift your hips up as you gasp into the kiss, feeling the pressure of his clothed cock against your pulsing heat. Wanting to feel more of him, you grind yourself up to him once more. 

As you do that, Chishiya pulls away from your mouth, buries his head on your neck, and moans. Oh, you were going to be addicted to that sound. You want to hear more of it. 

“Do you want me, Shuntarou?” He was still littering kisses on your neck as you asked that question. This a bold question. What are you going to do if he says no? 

And yet he doesn’t answer. He continues licking and biting your neck. However, his hand rises to your cheek and then he does it. Two taps with three fingers. The same as he did that one morning after sharing your first kiss. You hadn’t minded it then, thinking it was just some cute gesture that he’d do instead of showing affection to you. Well, it is. But it’s more than that. Specifically, you don’t know what it means. But it seemed like a yes. You just had to be sure.

“Tell me.” You hold his hand that was holding your face.

He lifts his head that was buried in your neck, finally looking at you in the eyes. “Yes.”

Then he closes the distance between you once again. You surrendered yourself to him completely, with him pulling you in with his hands beside your face. You grasp the sides of his shirt, crumpling it as you try to pull it up, wanting to feel his bare skin. He smirks against your lips, pulling away and kneeling on the bed. He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his lean body to you. 

You sit up, immediately drawn to his body. He lets you eye himself, picking up your hand and placing it on his chest. You look up at him through your lashes with enlarged pupils, pulse racing, and mouth agape. He looks down at you with equally as much emotion. You know this through the feeling of his heart beating in his chest. Chishiya wasn’t much one to show off his body. You admit that he wasn’t the most athletic but he did exercise as much as he needed. He wasn’t as fit but he was healthy.

You feel his body through your hands, running them up and down his chest and stomach, memorizing the feeling of his skin against your palms. You rarely see him topless so you wanted to remember this. He bends down to capture your lips again, caressing your cheek gently then down to your neck, to your shoulders, and then your waist. 

You gasp against his lips as he lifts and spins you around, sitting you on his lap. You’re on top of him this time, legs folded on his sides while your heat directly sits on his crotch. 

His lips are back on your neck, sucking and marking them. You rest your hands on his shoulders as he continues his attacks of kisses on your neck. His hands on your waist go lower and under the fabric, goosebumps forming from his touch. His hands roam around your skin under the shirt, inches away from the underside of your breasts. When he finally feels them, he freezes.

He pulls away from your neck and with a frown, he asks. “You aren’t wearing a bra?” He seemed a little pissed.

“Who the hell wears a bra to sleep?” You ask, dumbfounded and confused as to why this is relevant. 

“You should always be ready to run.” He complains like an idiot, brows furrowed. “Do you always sleep like this here?” He raises a brow. 

“Of course not, you idiot. Only with you.” 

After you said that, the corner of his lips tug into a satisfied tight-lipped smile. You smirk back, hands on the hem of your shirt. You pull the clothing off of you, exposing your braless breasts to him. The cold air hitting your skin hardens your nipples instantly, catching Chishiya’s eye in the process. 

Most of the time, you feel comfortable with your body. You like to think you looked sexy with your well-built body. Then again, Chishiya has never looked at you like this—not in this context. 

It made you feel a bit insecure, not being one of the girls with perfect, unbruised skin and thin delicate bodies. 

You cower in his gaze, not quite covering yourself but looking away to avoid seeing his reaction further. He notices this and uses two fingers on your chin to bring your face back in his direction. 

“Look at me,” he orders. With glossy eyes filled with want and lust, you stare at his eyes, the beauty mark under his right eye, and his delicate lips. “Only look at me.” He repeats himself. 

You nod, holding his gaze for a while before he leans to pepper kisses on your chest, not quite reaching where you want him most. His hands were on your ribs, thumbs tracing the underside of your breasts. Then his lips finally circle the curve of your breasts, sucking the skin and marking them as he did with your neck. 

“Shuntarou.” You were pleading, whining, and asking him to place his mouth or even just his hands where you really wanted him to. You jolt when his hand comes up to pinch your nipple, earning a moan from you. 

“Patience,” he reminds you.

He continued licking your skin, kissing your neck and chest alternately while holding one of your boobs in hand, massaging them. Your sensitive nipples were aching to be touched. You badly wanted to take his head in your hands and bury his face in your chest so he could smother them with his mouth.

When his tongue licks one nipple like a kitten as if testing the waters, you shudder. A soft whine slips from your mouth, not being able to control yourself and place a hand on the back of his hair as he fully envelopes his lips on your nipple, sucking it ferociously. 

Throwing your head back in pleasure, you grind your crotch on his hardening one. The friction of your clothed regions goes directly to your clit and now you were sure that you were soaked. Deciding you absolutely wanted more, you place both your hands on his shoulder and ground yourself on his clothed cock repeatedly while he flicks, licks, and sucks your hardened buds. He was eager to taste every inch of your chest and you were drowning in absolute bliss.

Hands shot down to your torso, stopping you from your back-and-forth motion. You frown as he pulls away and stares at you with a smirk.

Before you can protest, he flips you over again, earning a squeal from you. He captures your lips again in a desiring kiss and your arms instantly wrap around his neck, making him press an arm to the mattress by the side of your head. 

His other hand is still at your hips, thumb circling the skin just above the band of your shorts. It inches closer and closer until a finger is hooked under the soft material, teasing but not pulling it down quite yet. His hand goes under the material, feeling your underwear with his palm. You involuntarily clench as his palm goes directly to your clothed clit.

You feel him smirk in between the kiss as he feels your wetness, encouraging him to nibble on your lips. You were in dire need of him. You needed him to touch you, to mark you, to fuck you. 

“Please,” you plead, breaking the kiss and looking up at him with hazy lustful eyes. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, his hand going still under your shorts. You nod almost immediately and vocalize your consent. 

He doesn’t wait for a second after he hears it and slides your shorts and panties down your legs. You slightly shiver when the cold air hits your bare center, feeling the wetness dripping from it. His hands parted your legs so he could see more of you, making you feel a little more conscious than usual with a rose tint on your cheeks. You were completely bare in front of him while he was still clothed from the waist down. You should be a little shy but you weren’t, something about the dynamic feels more erotic.

Chishiya’s hands are moving slowly from your thighs but not quite getting where you want them. Instead, his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, massaging them with a purpose: to tease you and make you wetter.

When he is satisfied, he bends downwards. Oh. You didn’t expect this.

He licks one languid stripe from your hole to your clit, gathering the wetness on his tongue to which he swallows with a hum, his cat-like eyes fluttering open after. You swallow the lump in your throat as you stare at him in the eye, wide-eyed at the erotic scene that Chishiya played out for you. 

“Delicious,” he comments before diving in for more. Your hands immediately shoot down to make a home in his white hair as his head is buried between your legs, your back arching in pleasure as you gasp. 

He presses open-mouth kisses to your clit and you don’t know what to do with yourself, feeling lost in the immense pleasure he was giving you. You tug at the strands of his hair but he doesn’t seem to mind, his ministrations to your cunt the only thing he’s focusing on. 

Chishiya was like a man who suffered drought for years with the way he was eating your pussy. Half of his face is probably covered with your juices. You were only seeing the mop of hair between your legs but you can definitely feel his face mold against your heat. 

He hums as he eats you out, sending vibrations and shock waves to your spine. You love Chishiya and you admit you thought about him naked from time to time. You also fantasized about this happening once or twice but hell, you didn’t know that it’d be the first thing he’d do and be so good at it. 

He begins to catch on soon that it was clit stimulation that sends you closer and closer to that aimed high. The pressure begins to build in your abdomen, making you mewl and moan out his name to continue with whatever he was doing. It was a bit embarrassing how fast he could make you reach this point in only a few minutes. Was it because he was really good or was it because you held feelings for him that you hadn’t for anyone else? 

The sound filling the room is obscene, his tongue lapping your wetness echoing your bedroom walls. Your clit is throbbing underneath his tongue. 

The tension building up in your stomach rises with every flick of his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you feel it closer than ever to your most wanted high. 

“Chishiya,” you sob, fingers tugging his hair. “Baby, please…”

The nickname slipped out in the midst of your begging. What’s funny is you don’t even know what you’re begging for. For him to not stop or for him to make you come already? Maybe it was both.

“I know,” Chishiya murmurs against your cunt and gives your clit one extended suck before practically lifting your bottom half from the bed and digging his head further into your pussy.

He’s quicker than ever and you can’t not appreciate seeing Chishiya’s blatant display of eagerness and lust. His nose is pressed against your pelvis, lapping up your cunt as if it’s the last thing he’ll do. Your wetness is dripping down your thighs, pussy providing more for him like a water source. 

“Oh, ngghh… Shuntaro… Yes. Fuck!” You moaned incoherently while your hips involuntarily grind against his face. He doesn’t mind, his hot appendage flicking his tongue against your swollen clit and heating you up further.

You’re going insane, not knowing where to put your hands. They went from his hair to grasping the sheets, to feeling every inch of your naked skin, to groping your tits and pinching your nipples, to pulling your hair, and then back to his mop of hair between your legs. You were an absolute mess and it was all because of Chishiya’s mouth on your pussy.

You were a mess and your mind is blank, void of any thoughts except of the knowledge that you were about to cum. Your stomach is unwinding at a breakneck speed, your breathing heavy as Chishiya is working endlessly to get you there. He pushes and pushes until—

And then you came.

Your legs clasped around Chishiya’s head as you came, your moans in the form of screams. You can’t hear anything, too indulged in the sinking pleasure and gasping for air. He was still there with you, continuing to eat your pussy like you weren’t cumming messily under him.

You were trying to catch your breath when it subsided, finally releasing Chishiya from your legs by parting them. He gazes up at you to admire your face which was cherry red and wet with tears you didn’t even know were there.

You give him a lopsided smile, eyes content and chest warm. 

You pull him from below you and he lets himself be carried to your face, lips meeting in a soft kiss. It’s a sight to behold, half of his face covered in your juices. It is seldom that Chishiya is caught in a mess and right now, it was all because of you.

His fingers are on your core again, not even letting your sensitivity subside. You don’t complain though, excited with what more he could give you.

He spreads your wetness around your pussy, careful enough to go around your sensitive clit to not hurt you. Your tongue explores his mouth, tasting yourself in the process. 

His finger is prodding your hole, teasing the tip in and out or circling it. When he finally enters you with a finger, you gasp. He was already knuckle deep, not pulling it out but curling that finger until the pad of his finger felt that spongy spot inside you. 

You grasp the bicep of the arm that was beside your head. He leans down to suck your nipple again, making you arch your back again. He adds another finger, navigating your pussy as if wanting to learn every crevice of your cunt. 

He pistons his fingers in your pussy while overstimulating your sensitive nipples. The pleasure was immense and you abruptly sat up when his pace went faster, hitting that certain spot inside you that’s an instant gateway to your edge. 

Contrasting your loud moans and constant citing of Chishiya’s name, your partner is not as audible as you expected. Unlike your other partners before, he’s more on actions than words, making sure you were enjoying, checking every sign of your pleasure or discomfort in your face. 

He wraps an arm around your back, supporting your upper body slightly closer to his as his other hand is knuckles deep inside your cunt. 

You were mumbling incoherencies as his fingers repeatedly hit that spot while his mouth worked expertly on your tits. 

“Again,” he orders. “Cum for me again.”

He inserts another finger as he says that and the stretch burns so good. You often dreamed about his hands. God, his hands. Delicate and well-controlled. He was a doctor, after all. You don’t forget how in med school, you’d watch his hands as he demonstrates something and your mind would trail off somewhere. Now, those same fingers are where you want them to be. 

What else could you do but comply?

Your orgasm gushes out and takes you off guard. His fingers don't stop, each thrust of his fingers making your cunt squelch. The sound is lewd and you don’t think you’ve been pleasured like this your whole life. It was so unfair. How is Chishiya handsome, intelligent, and good at sex? 

You were panting when you came down from your high, staring at Chishiya with spent and glossy eyes.

“W-what the fuck,” you breathed out, unbelieving what just happened. He just made you cum two times and you haven’t even seen his dick. 

“Are you tired? We can stop here.” He asks you out of concern. You’re already vigorously shaking your head as an answer. 

“No. I want to feel you,” you say while palming his erection over his pants. “Want to taste you too.” 

“You don’t have to.” He was serious about it, eyes soft and genuine. Men would often want a reciprocation when it comes to oral sex, that is, if they even gave one in the first place. But Chishiya, this man right here, the man you adored since the first day, he was different.

“I want to,” you say before wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips against his. You pushed his body to lay down on his back and you trail your kisses from his lips to his neck to his chest and down to his pants. His legs spread, lying comfortably on the mattress.

Unlike Chishiya who liked to take it slow, you were impatient, tugging down his pants and briefs in one motion before completely removing them and throwing them somewhere on the floor. His cock springs out and it was already hard and leaking at the tip. You look at it with anticipation, basically salivating as you were eager to taste him.

You wrap your hand around the base and licked the tip with your tongue, making him hiss. You were sure to taste him first before anything else then you moaned as he did when he first tasted you, looking up at him dirtily through your lashes.

His eyes were shut close and his jaw was clenched, basking in the second of pleasure. You wanted more from him—to make him a mess under you as he did you.

You spread his pre-cum with your thumb and then spat, using both as lube as you slide your hand up and down his shaft. His face contorts into pleasure and hums. 

Finally, you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling and sucking it as if it’s the last meal you’ll have. Chishiya was of decent length but the girth—oh god, the girth. It suddenly made sense why he used three fingers on you earlier. 

You push your head down on him, taking him little by little. If he was good at it, then you’ll show him how great you can be at it too. You bobbed your head back and forth, taking more and more of him at every thrust. Your hands massage his balls as you suck his cock. 

Chishiya’s head is thrown back when you glance up, his beautiful neck on display for you. This only motivates you more, fastening your pace, not minding as lewd sounds come out of you as you choke and gag on his cock.

Your eyes stay on him, waiting for his eyes to meet yours again. And it does. He glances down at you, teeth clenched together in an attempt to strain a groan from him. “Fuck,” he hissed.

You were probably a messy sight to behold. Tears on your blushing face, saliva leaking out of the corner of your mouth, and all high on pleasure and lust. Despite this, he looks at you in pure adoration in contrast to the sinful situation. 

Freeing his cock from your mouth with a little ‘pop’, you breathe and give him a smile before sticking out a flattened tongue and running your tongue from the base to the tip. You take him in your mouth again, humming to create vibrations as you swirl your tongue and bob your head ferociously. 

And then you hear it. He moans and mumbles your name. 

You didn’t know that he wanted you to stop, taking the sinful sounds coming out from him as motivation to make him come. It was turning you on so much, having such a man writhing with the way you suck his cock. He practically pulls your head away from his cock for you to realize. “Need to be inside you,” he explains in a rush. Once again, he flips the two of you over. There was no warning, no second to prepare.

In one swift motion, his cock enters you, taking his cock inch for inch. You were so wet that he entered with ease, making you gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support. He doesn’t move for the first few seconds, taking in your warmth and tightness. His eyes are closed and his brows are furrowed when his entire length is inside you.

“Shuntarou,” you mewl. Just as you thought, he was on the thicker side, filling your cunt so well. 

“Feel so good,” he mumbles against your neck.

The warmth goes straight to your chest, an unfamiliar feeling during sex. His cock is nestled inside your warmth but you wanted him to move so you grind yourself against him. The sudden friction makes him groan, digging his arms into the mattress as he raises himself just above your face. And then he starts to move.

He pulls out until just the tip of his cock is inside then he slams it back inside again, your sensitivity from previous orgasms doubling the pleasure and making you moan out curses. He starts building the pace, cock thrusting in and out of your heat. It stretches your cunt, every pound hitting your g-spot which he found with ease. Your body jostles with every snap of his hips.

You wanted to keep your eyes open and see every slight change on his face. The way his brows furrow, the way creases form on his forehead, the way his lips part slightly, and the way he pants. But it was all too good.

“Fuck! Oh shit. Please don’t stop!” You plead with shut eyes, tears leaking out of the sides of them as you clench your pussy just as he grinds his cock right at the spongy area of your cunt.

“All mine,” he grunts. “You’re all mine.” It was so lewd and vulgar. You were so wet and loud that you were sure that even the mattress is now soaked with your wetness, your sheets forever ruined. 

“Yes,” you croak. “Only yours.” Your words give him some kind of encouragement, his pace going faster than ever. You’ve never seen Chishiya this energetic. He’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, his cock hitting all your nerves as you wail in ecstasy. 

You both were chasing your high like madmen, you thrusting up your hips to meet his rhythm. Your cunt was clenching around his length and he let out a guttural growl every time you did it. 

“On your knees,” he commands as he pulls out of you.

You get on your knees, hands digging into the mattress to support yourself. He hisses behind you, cock entering you once again in one swift motion. Your back instantly arches and his hands fly down to your shoulder and waist. The hand on your shoulder slides to your neck and then to your throat, wrapping around it lightly. You turn your head to him, catching his smirk as he looks at you while squeezing your hips. He starts moving his hips, cock hitting deeper than ever. He has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, his hand gripping the sides of your neck and adding to the haziness of your brain. 

You turn your head again, watching as he captivatingly watches his cock move in and out of you. It was good. So good. But it was painstakingly slow.

“Faster,” you beg, voice a little coarse. He complies, grip on your hip and throat tightening to anchor himself as he rams his hips into you faster and deeper, fucking you silly. 

“Fuck!” You scream out, starting to get high on the bliss the sex was giving you. Your back curves to him as he finds his rhythm and thrusts in fast motion. 

The hand on your hips slides down to your pussy, his finger stroking your clit in swift circles. You scream, his dick hitting that sweet spot inside your and his fingers overstimulating your bundle of nerves.

“Chishiya, I’m—“ Your voice hitches, putting all your strength on keeping you steady even if your whole body is turning into jelly. You were completely engulfed in his touches.

“Come,” he commands for the second time. For the third time that day, the coil inside you snaps, your orgasm coming down at you in full force. Loud and messy. Just as you are. 

The fuzzy feeling rushes through your body, making your cunt tighten at your orgasm. Chishiya pounds harder to chase his own. Both of his hands snap back to your hips to avoid hurting you with overstimulation. His hips were stuttering, a sign that he was close too as your pussy cages him. 

“Where?” He asked out loud while you were still coming down from your high. Your mind was hazy but it was clear enough to know what you wanted. “Inside,” you blubber. “I have an IUD.” 

Just like that, he spills inside of you. Underneath him, you were a sobbing mess, sensitive to having three consecutive orgasms. 

You take a glance at the man, his brows were knitted in pleasure, a few strands of his white hair sticking to his face. He was incredibly beautiful. Chishiya was a ravishing man and he just unveiled you. You wouldn’t want more for a while.

“Fuck,” he pants. His hands fall down from your hips and to his sides. He keeps his cock inside you for a few seconds after he comes down from his high before pulling out. Immediately, your body collapses on the mattress, your mixed juices spilling out of your pussy as your muscles all come loose. 

With your head turned to the side and buried in the pillows, you can’t see Chishiya behind you. However, you do feel his hands come down to your ass as he spreads them apart, most probably watching his cum inside you. He collects them with his fingers, the tips of them brushing your sensitive clit in the process and making you shudder. Then his fingers enter your cunt again, pushing your mixed cum into you again. It was so erotic and vulgar, his fingers just ruining your oversensitive cunt. You squirm, the pleasure all too much. 

“Ah…” you moan weakly. Chishiya chuckles and pulls his fingers out of you, the dip of his knees on the bed disappearing and you hear his steps on the floor. You were too tired to look at him but you do hear the water running in the bathroom for a few seconds before his steps return to the bed.

You jolt at the cold and damp towel meeting the skin of your thighs. He wipes you gently, hands working in favor of your sensitivity. He was so gentle that it almost felt relaxing. You let him do what he was doing and close your already droopy eyes.

When he’s done, you feel the bed dip beside you. Your hands immediately find his chest even with your eyes already closed, pulling yourself closer to him as you let yourself finally fall asleep.

When you woke up, Chishiya was gone. It made you nervous, finding the side of his bed cold and another canned food on the top of your bedside table. You reach for it, sighing and reading the label before putting it back down again.

You sat up, your blanket falling down from your body and exposing your naked breasts. It suddenly felt too cold and you notice the clean folded clothes sitting by your blanket-clad feet. 

You get out of bed and decide to shower first. After cleaning yourself, you went back to your bedroom and started dressing up. Starting with the fresh underwear, you slip the panties on first and then the sports bra after. As the band below the sports bra snaps to your skin, you hear Chishiya speak.

“You’re awake,” he walks into the room and sits casually on the chair in front of your desk as if you weren’t half naked—as if you haven’t just had sex. 

“Where were you?” You snapped, not looking at him and taking the yoga pants in your hands. You start slipping your legs into it as you wait for an answer. 

“The King of Diamonds. Registration will start later.” You froze.

The two of you just survived a game together, and now he still wants to join another? Well, he is Chishiya after all. What were you thinking? Just because you two had sex, he’ll magically change overnight? You sigh, pulling the pants to your waist. “Okay,” you reply. 

“Okay?” His voice sounded intrigued. He didn’t expect you to just agree like that.

“Okay,” you repeat, still not looking at him.

You sigh, grabbing the black dry-fit shirt. You pull it over your head as you speak. “I can’t really stop you, can I?” Besides, he hasn’t played a Diamonds game and you know he wanted to. 

You pull the hem of the shirt, all done and dressed up. You know he didn’t want you coming to that game. And to be frank, you were all done with it. You had plenty of days on your visa and there were only a few games left. You have to put your trust in Chishiya. And if you will, a Diamonds game is where you trust him the most. He can do it, right?

“I’ll wait for you here,” you continue. “But only if you promise you’ll come back.” 

You finally meet his eyes, staring at you intently. He was wearing his favorite white jacket, an oversized shirt, and pants. He was all ready. It made you sick how he did it all while you were sleeping soundly. He was to leave you. Did he fuck you because of this? 

He stands up from his seat, walks over to you, and shortens the distance between you. He was inches away from you, pushing your hair to the back of your ear. 

“I promise,” he answers.

You nod with a hard stare. “I won’t join any more games if I don’t have to and if you don’t come back, I’ll leave and start looking for the others. Deal?” You ask him, brows raising.

He was quiet for a few seconds as if he was contemplating an answer or if there was something else behind your words. But he answers anyway. “Deal.”

When you were content, you sat back down on the bed. “You haven’t eaten,” Chishiya observes as he stares at the untouched food beside you. “Not in the mood,” you reply blankly. 

He hums, unconvinced by your answer. He sits down beside you on the bed. “Is this because of last night?” He asks you. So now he brings up what happened?

“No,” you lied through your teeth, aware that you were convincing no one but yourself. His kisses and now sex. Was this just how Chishiya did it? Just hook up and then go on as if nothing happened? Maybe that worked for any random person he did it with but he couldn’t do that to you. Not you. 

He sighs, putting his hands in his pockets. He most likely knows that you were lying. “I didn’t have any motive if that’s what you’re thinking.” He takes a glance at you while he says that then looks in the other direction again. 

“It’s hard to be sure with you,” you reply with a straight face but it comes out sadder than you intended.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, thinking. “I know,” he says. “I know.” His voice equals your saddened tone. 

“Can’t we just be sure? I need you to be sure about me.” Chasing him around, you didn’t get tired of that. You always expected to get nothing in return. You thought that if you do someday get a reaction from him, you’d be content but unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Him reciprocating your feelings without actually confirming anything, it hurts more than anything. 

He doesn’t answer and tears well up in your eyes. You hold out your hand, the back of it touching your thighs. “This is hard for me too, you know?” You are your mother’s daughter, you realized. Loving a man that doesn’t even want you. You liked to think that Chishiya isn’t like your father but who knows? It’s hard for you to love too. But you’re trying. It just so happened that your heart chose him. It’s unfortunate but you’re hopeful. 

“I know,” he answers the same thing. 

“You know an awful lot of things,” you snort. 

“I do,” he replies quickly.

You turn your head away from him even if you weren’t previously looking at him to express your aggravation. You don’t say anything else, sitting with him in silence and letting your anger marinate into something else.

“I do know a lot of things,” he continues a little later than a conversation should. “I know everything about you. More than anyone else I know. Your every habit. Your every favorite thing. Your thoughts. Your likes. Your dislikes. I know all of them. It’s not because I’m simply smart. I wouldn’t remember if it’s anyone else.”

A hand on your chin gently moves your face towards him, making you come face to face with him, faces only inches away from each other. His eyes were sparkling in the most expressive way they could be, boring into yours with a purpose.

“I know,” he says again. “I know because it’s you.”

A tear falls from your eye. Then from the other. Then another. Then another until they fall like waterfalls. He captures your lips into a kiss while holding your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.

“Stop crying,” he whispers when he pulls away. “You look ugly when you cry.” But like a child, you cry harder, hands covering your face. Chishiya chuckles, pulling your hands away from your face and you let him. 

You wrap your arms around him. Words were still unsaid between the two of you, those three words that hang around your heart for years. You wanted to say them in case you don’t see each other again but you were scared. Why? You don’t even know.

“I—“ you stutter. “I have something to say to you when you come back.” He hums again and you feel the vibration of his throat in your touching bodies. 

“So come back, okay?” You sniff.  Chishiya exhales, bringing a hand on your back to tap it two times. “I will,” he promises again. “But don’t go out. Just wait for me. I’ll come back.” 

What else were to do but trust him? 

Chishiya didn’t come back. 

The King of Diamonds blimp had fallen but there was no sight of the white-haired man. Agitated and feeling your body waste away inside the waste of a room he left you in, you worry for your acquaintance. Has he really lost the game? 

No, impossible. It can’t be, right? This is Chishiya we’re talking about. Will he really lose a game—a diamond game out of all suits? This is unfair. You’ve kept your promise. You didn’t join any games and thankfully, there wasn’t any sign of the King of Spades. So why isn’t he back yet?

Your mind goes back and forth. Will you look for him and go outside or will you stay here, patiently waiting for him to come back? If you do go out, you’re breaking his promise and your trust in him but if you don’t go out, you think you’ll go insane out of worry. And what if the worst thing has already happened? Will you just waste away here in this room?

You decided that you won’t wait for him anymore. 

Going outside, you mindlessly walk the streets of London without any destination, occasionally stopping by some places where you can loot some supplies and avoiding any people that come into view if you don’t know them. 

As you are nearing Shibuya, an alarming sound pierces your ears.

Gunshot? But that’s just one. If it were the King of Spades, it should be much louder and followed by more running and bullets. You were near the main roads so maybe more people are there?

What if it’s Chishiya? or Arisu? Usagi? Anyone at this point. Just so you weren’t alone. You groan. You won’t allow yourself to be seen. If it’s no one you know, you can just walk away and run in another direction. 

After you’ve decided, you begin to stealthily walk in the direction of the fire. As you hide from car to car, more gunshots come followed by a little bit of shouting. There were arguments, maybe. Really? In the middle of having only two games left? Are they really going to kill themselves when we’re so near our goal? Sighing, you pick up your handgun and prepare to use it.  

Then it was quiet again as you neared Shibuya crossing. You were maybe two or three blocks away. Who could they be? You hope it’s not anyone you know. Wait, is that? 

That shaggy hair and lanky tall build. That’s Arisu holding a shotgun. And who’s that on top of a car wrapped up like an onigiri—oh. That’s fucking Niragi. He’s aiming at someone. If Arisu is here then that means? Your eyes trail to where the gun is pointed and you spot the short-haired girl in a red athletic tank top. Your eyes watered in shock and happiness. You finally found them. 

However, that bastard Niragi is just a pain in the ass until the end, isn’t he? That fucking asshole. Speeding up your pace, you raise your gun without being heard. Your eyes were focused on Niragi and how his finger is on the trigger. He’s gonna shoot. You’re gonna have to do it fir—.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was his shot that rang first. Then yours. Then Arisu’s that sent him flying off the car. Aware of another shot that wasn’t coming from him but his back, Arisu turns around hastily with his gun pointed at you. You immediately raise your hands, showing your defenselessness in order for him to stand down his guard.

His eyes immediately softened when they saw you, putting down his gun and exclaiming your name in relief. “Y/N!”

You run towards him and pat his shoulder before screaming Usagi’s name and running in her direction.But when your eyes shift to where she was, Usagi was still on the floor, and in front of her was… what? Where did he come from? Why are there blood stains on his white jacket? In two different areas, too? What? No. What’s going on? 

“Chishiya!” Usagi’s scream was piercing as his body falls on the road. Arisu goes over to them and Usagi presses a hand on his wound in order to control the bleeding. “Why?!”

You, however, stood frozen in place, just a few steps away from the three. Usagi began asking him why he saved her. It was indeed odd. Even you know that it’s out of character for him. You’d never thought you’d see the day that Chishiya would take a bullet for someone. He always argued that if a person could take a bullet for someone, they would have enough time to move away from the shot. 

Whatever they were talking about, you tune out. You couldn’t hear anything. You feel like your brain shut down and all you could feel inside your body is raging fire. Your heart has stopped taking in anything, overflowing with exuding unexplainable emotion. 

You had shut down.

“I wanted to do something that was a bit out of character.” Chishiya chuckles as he sputters out the words behind the pain. He sighs. “I know it’s thanks to Y/N and the people I met here. Like Kuzuryu. Arisu, too.”

Usagi and Arisu were worried and Arisu even took a glance at you, wanting to check on you as you stared down at Chishiya with a lifeless expression. There were no tears in your eyes, only an unmatchable coldness burning them. No emotions. Your shoulders were relaxed and the lids of your eyes looked as if they were too heavy to keep open.

However, he focuses back on the man dying in front of him. “Hey. What were you gonna say before?!” He asks, pertaining to a few minutes before Niragi went and interrupted them.

Chishiya takes his time to take a breather before answering. “Honest people always seemed pretty stupid to me. I always loved messing with people who try too hard at life. I hated selflessness.” He pauses to breathe again, his voice raspier as his eyes stare up at the sky. “It’s probably because I was jealous. They all had something I was missing.”

He stares at Arisu for a second before looking straight ahead again. “It was like they could always see what a pathetic and small-minded person I really was.” Then his head turns to you who wasn’t even looking at him. You were gone inside yourself. “I was always afraid.” That I wouldn’t be enough for her too, is what he thought as he saw you. 

“I understand you,” Arisu responds, genuinely with a nod. He doesn’t say it just because the man lying down on the ground is in a critical condition. He does understand what he’s saying and what he means. “I thought you would,” Chishiya replies with a bittersweet tone. 

Usagi and Arisu look down at Chishiya with pity and understanding. They were betrayed by this man. He used and manipulated them in his favor. He had hurt Y/N a lot. But this man… is just a flawed human being. While that doesn’t excuse his actions, they do understand him a little bit better. They wished that somehow and one day, he can change and be a better man. 

Usagi looks up at the woman standing quietly in front of them, her eyes widening at her lifeless state. “Y/N?” Arisu follows Usagi’s eyes and hurries to his feet, about to check on their friend who looked terribly off. They’d never seen her like this before. Hell, Chishiya has never seen her like this before.

“I guess hunting rifles aren’t as deadly as you thought.” Grunting at hearing the voice of his enemy, Arisu rushes to where he fell, ready to shoot him once again if he makes a wrong move. However, a hand on his chest stops him and he looks at the person with wide eyes. 

Your eyes were still lifeless and blank. You didn’t even look at him, staring at Niragi’s body who was sprawled on the cement road next to the car. He was still laughing, his breathing uneven with all his injuries and shots. 

“Whatever you do, don’t make me out to be the villain.” The man was dying, it was clear to anyone. But you didn’t seem convinced. “If there were seven billion of me, you guys would all be villains too. You’re pretty lucky you know. You guys are the majority.” 

Arisu lowered his gun, knowing that the man had forfeited. His bloodied burnt face and the bullets in his body are enough for him to not be able to move. However, as Arisu looked at you, you didn’t look like you cared. “Y/N!” He couldn’t do anything but scream your name as you rush to Niragi, kicking his body, and sending him rolling on the ground. 

Niragi coughs out blood. Plenty of it. He doesn’t even try to move or run. He couldn’t possibly do it. He was too weak and injured. You pick up the man by his hair, lifting his body off the ground. With blaring eyes, you throw a powerful punch across his face. His body falls to the ground again. 

“What’s your pr—,” he tries to ask but you weren’t hearing anything. You pick him up by his hair again. But this time, you punch the other side of his jaw. He falls to the ground again and sputters out blood, spitting crimson red and a tooth.

Arisu and Usagi were too stunned to move or speak. You were merciless as you beat up Niragi, punching him multiple times and kicking his wounds repeatedly as Niragi cries out in pain. You weren’t hearing any of his protests. You were completely out of it. Arisu could see that something was wrong. He has never seen you like this before.

From the ground, Chishiya looks up at Usagi who was still pressing down his gun wound. “She’ll kill him,” he tells her, implying that the pair should stop you.

It’s not that he didn’t want Niragi to die. He wasn’t the judge of that, he learned. He also didn’t say that Niragi doesn’t deserve to be beaten by you. He most understandably deserved it. However, he knows that if you killed him, it'll leave a mark on you. You were a fighter but never a killer. 

Usagi and Arisu pull you away from a curled up on the floor Niragi despite your protests and attempts to pull yourself free from their holding. You began screaming, grunting, and raging like a bull. 

“Y/N! Get a hold of yourself! Please!” 

Usagi pleads as she holds your arm tightly. Arisu holds your other one as they both struggle to pull you back. 

“YN, stop!” It was Arisu who screams, having a much more difficult time than Usagi.

As the pair is still trying to hold you back, the familiar sound of rumbling puts them to a halt, frozen over what they know follows. This puts an urgency on Usagi, pushing Arisu from you and moving in front of you. She stops you by holding both of your shoulders in place, planting all her weight on the ground. 

“Y/N!” 

“Y/N!” 

Usagi was in front of you, in distress as she squeezes your shoulders. She was holding on to you with maximum effort, her feet gripping the ground tightly and the force on your shoulders was vehement. Your face relaxes, releasing the tension that was once on it. 

“U-Usagi?”

What was happening? Why is Usagi on the verge of tears? Why can’t you remember anything? Your knuckles are clenched and wet? You look down, seeing the blood and bruises forming on it. What’s the last thing you remember? 

You feel Usagi’s hold loosen as you think. 

You try to retrace your steps. You heard gunshots. You followed them. It was at the Shibuya crossing. You saw Arisu. Then Niragi. Then Usagi. Niragi was about to shoot Usagi. But Chishiya was shot instead. 

Chishiya was shot. Fatally. 

Your face morphs into a horrified one as you remember. You look up, finally processing what has happened and what was happening. The rumbling sound followed by a whistle indicated a blimp was near. Chishiya was shot and the King of Spades was about to come. 

Snapping out of it, you turn around and run to where you know Chishiya is. Dropping to your knees beside him, tears began to sting your eyes as you try to press your bruised hand on his wounds.

He was fatal. There were two shots, one below the rib and another on the chest. You know you can’t carry him away to a safe shelter. He was too exhausted and he was losing too much blood. And you have to run now, quickly. 

With your touch, Chishiya’s eyes open again but with struggle. He looks up at your face that had worry and devastation written all over it. 

“H-hey,” he greets you with a corner of his lips curled up. He could barely keep his eyes open.

You broke into a sob, tears flowing down your cheek as you stared at the bloody mess in front of you. “Shuntarou. T-tell me what to do. Please. We can stop the blood. I can carry you to the nearest drugsto—“

He shakes his head, not even listening to your cries in an attempt to help him. “I-No. The jacket. I’m sorry.” 

Your brows furrowed as you scrunch your forehead in confusion. “What?” 

A hand lifts to the blood on his jacket. Was he trying to say sorry about ruining his goddamn jacket?

“Are you fucking serious? That doesn’t matter right now!” You scold him, fist slamming the concrete below you.

The man dying in front of you had the audacity to smirk in his condition. “T-the plant too.” 

Your mouth drops open at his words, momentarily halting your sobs as tears continue to fall from your eyes. The plant? Could it be? 

That’s when you realize that this man bleeding in front of you, unmoving and on the verge of death, is the same man who you met when you were a kid. This is the same man who would ignore you endlessly. This is the same man who pushed you away. 

But this man… has always cared about you. 

You wondered why he hadn’t gotten rid of it all this time. Back at the beach, you saw him wearing it. He had taken it off only one time—when you chose Usagi and Arisu over him. Then he mysteriously has it again when the games started. Had he always cared this much over that damn Nike jacket? Because of you?

You were about to speak again but a loud scream from afar interrupts you, indicating that the King of Spades is near. 

“We have to go!” Arisu screams and runs to you and Chishiya. “We’ll hide them under the cars,” he says and you nod, wiping away your tears. 

Arisu, Usagi, and you dragged Niragi and Chishiya behind the cars. However, you know that wouldn’t do much. But you have to run or be shot to death by the King of Spades right here with them. 

“Come on!” Arisu beckons as he drops Niragi beside the car. You were still beside Chishiya, kneeling beside him and looking at him breathing and alive despite his exhausted and lifeless eyes. You place your hand on top of his and hold it, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles turn white.

You look at Arisu and then back at Chishiya, thinking about what could be the stupidest decision in your life. From the look on your face, Arisu begins to understand what you were thinking. 

“Y/N, we need you.” Arisu pleads with you. You both know that if it ever comes down to taking down the King of Spades, three is better than one. Especially with your combat skills. 

However, you stay on your ground, eyes focused on Chishiya who was now looking at you with confused eyes. “I want to be next to him. If I die, it’ll be next to him.” 

Arisu and Usagi look at each other as if they’re communicating with their eyes. 

Chishiya turns his head, looking away from your focused stare. “Just go,” he tells you, his hand that was in your hold pushes yours away. 

You shake your head in protest. “No.”

The shouts got a lot clearer and the gunshots were louder. The King of Spades is nearing and you were giving Arisu and Usagi no chance to convince you to come with them. But you’re choosing Chishiya this time. As you always had. 

Arisu places a hand on your shoulder and you finally look up at him with tears in your eyes. You give him one last nod and he gives you a stare and nods back. It wasn’t a look of pity but a look of worry and respect. This might be the last time you’ll see him and Usagi. Not all of you might actually survive this time. 

“Be safe, Y/N.” Usagi crouches beside you to hug you.

You nod, patting her back. “Go. Now.” Usagi gives you one last look of determination and stands up in sharpness when you hear the screams and guns fired again. 

And so you watch as Usagi and Arisu scramble away from you. 

You finally plop yourself beside Chishiya, head down low in silence at the realization of what you’ve done. You don’t breathe or make a sound, only staying by his side as the shooting and running take place behind you. 

Minutes passed by and there were still people screaming and being shot but a further distance. You were frozen there, not doing anything but sitting while everyone you meet here is dying. 

Chishiya is breathing slowly but he’s alive. You can feel him looking at you in your peripheral vision but you don’t look back. 

“Is this really what you want?” His voice was weak and soft, unlike the Chishiya you used to know. You don’t answer him, only staring ahead at the ruined buildings of Shibuya. 

You remember walking here like it’s a chore. You remember seeing these streets alive with diverse people. Workers, students, tourists, and residents. It was a busy street. Now, what used to be a place that was never empty and filled with people, is littered with dead bodies. 

“Y/N,” Chishiya continues in a warning tone, trying to catch your attention as your mind is drifting away. 

You shake your head, headstrong on your decision. “No, I’m not leaving you.” 

He sighs. “You’re so stubborn.”

You raise a brow, glaring at him. “And you’re fucking stupid. Look at where you’re shot.” 

Why is it that the moment he turns things around he has to be in the line of fire?

He chuckles breathily, staring down at his wounds with raised brows. You frown when he literally does what he’s told. How can he be so sarcastic when he’s dying?

“What does my doctor think?” Chishiya raises a brow at you. You huff, looking away in annoyance. 

“That you should shut up,” you snap. “Can you sit up? Let’s at least try to control the bleeding.” 

“It’s no use.” You both know he’s right. Still, you’re not one to give up. You try to pull his arm but he winces, making you let go as you’ve accidentally touched a hot stove. You sigh, no choice but to sit in silence again.

It’s kind of odd how the King of Spades didn’t reach you behind the cars. The gunshots seem to have gone further away. Perhaps most players have decided to end the King of Spades now with Shibuya as his first and final arena. You thought about Banda and Yaba, were they in Shibuya too?

A cough pushes you out of your thoughts. You turn your head to your right and once again, your blood boils when your eyes meet Niragi’s who was barely leaning in front of a car. Sometimes, you really hate Arisu’s moral compass. He should’ve left Niragi for dead in the middle of the street for him to be shot dead and sure.

“What?” You spat. 

He doesn’t even have the energy to answer. His face was all bloodied, having been beaten up. His burns haven’t been healing properly and he was shot twice by you and Arisu. He was in a more critical stage than Chishiya. You hope that he'll die soon. 

Well, maybe not. 

“Don’t die,” you tell the deranged man. 

The corner of his blooded mouth curls up in the tiniest bit and you continue with a soulless voice. “Don’t die and let’s go back to the real world. When we’re back, just wait. I’ll find you and make you suffer so that you’ll wish you never lived and died here. I can atone for my sins in hell but you… I won’t let you. I want to be the one to punish you.” 

You know a million thoughts are running through his head. He may be wanting to curse you or taunt you, or in the slightest of chance, regret all of what he’s done here. It doesn’t matter anyway. He was too injured to move his mouth.

You turn your back to him and face Chishiya again. He was staring at you with amused eyes, probably shocked at your cruel words for his enemy. 

“What? I promised.” You defend yourself. “To protect you.”

“Why?” 

“You know why,” you argue, brows furrowing.

If Chishiya isn’t answering because of his injury or simply because he didn’t have anything to say, you weren’t sure. You do know, however, that there is one thing weighing on your mind. There was no time to ask but now.

You open your mouth to speak and close it again, hesitating a little before finally speaking. 

“Why didn’t you come back?” Your voice cracked. “I waited for you and watched the blimp crash. You didn’t come back.” 

He stays silent for a moment, not even staring at you. His face looks troubled. It almost looks like he’s on the verge of crying. You’ve never seen him look like this. What exactly happened in his game?

“I—“ He finally answers, stuttering as if he’s unsure. “I don’t know.” 

“You told me you will,” you bark. Were you angry? Maybe a little. Nobody wanted what happened to him to happen. It wasn’t his fault. Yet, you couldn’t not feel angry. If he just came back to you, would this have happened? 

Sometimes, you wish you could get inside Chishiya’s mind just once. Just so you could be sure of what he thinks of you—of where you stand in his life. 

“I know.” He chuckled bitterly. “And you told me you wanted to face the King of Spades.” 

“Then I guess our words never really meant anything to each other.” 

“So? Are you really going to stay here until they clear all the games?” 

“Yes.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“How is this ridiculous, Chishiya? You know how much I—“

“I know,” he pauses. “I know.” 

“Why won’t you let me tell you that I lo—“

“Not here. Not now.”

“What if we never get the chance again? Say I do go out there and join them? What if I die?”

“Walk it off. Win the game and crawl. Then say it.” He presses on every word harshly. You frown, upset that he was pushing you away this way. 

What now? He really wants you to leave him, huh?

“Listen, Y/N. I’m okay. I won’t be able to join the last game but I can stay here and be alive until it’s been cleared. You can go. I’ll wait for you here.”

You close your eyes, sighing as you rest your elbows on your folded knees. You place your head on your hands, frustrated. 

Of course, you wanted to help Arisu and the others. You weren’t selfish. You wanted to help with the King of Spades. But Chishiya is always your dealbreaker. He’s always the priority for you. 

The sooner the King of Spades is cleared, the sooner the Queen of Hearts could be entered. If you go now, maybe you can still find and help Arisu and Usagi. You sigh. It’s been a while since they left and the sound of gunshots and crashes has dwindled into a few now. Where will you find them?

“Shuntarou.” 

Your tone was serious, venom dripping from your voice. Your head was still on your hands, covering your face. 

“If I don’t make it—if I don’t make my way back to you, you’ll go back to the real world and try. Live better. I don’t know how you’ll do it.” As you ask the question, you turn your face to him. “Just try, okay?” 

You don’t wait for him to answer, taking his face in your hands and smashing your lips against his. He kisses back almost immediately, taking a hand and placing it over your hair. 

You pull away earlier than you wanted to, still holding his face. His eyes softened, half-lidded as they realize what was happening even if he was the one that pushed it. 

“I’m gonna go.”

You rise to your feet, crouching. As you turn to leave, Chishiya’s hand tugs your hand back to him. Your eyes widened as your lips met his once again. This time, it was softer and moist, and you realize that it was because tears began falling from your eyes and had saltied your kisses. The softness of his kiss contradicted the harsh truth of the situation while the intensity of it matched it quite perfectly.  His insistent mouth was parting your lips, palm now back at the back of your head, pressing you further to his face. He groaned softly, low in his throat and you felt it against your mouth. You chuckle against his lips, finding the irony in the situation. 

“I promise,” he says when you two finally part. 

Determined, you gave him a smile and a nod. 

“Go.” His voice was hoarse from both his injuries and the kiss. 

Then you turn around again, taking one last glance at your man before running off in the direction of where the King of Spades went. 

Ruins welcomed you as you walked further, finally putting a visual to the people you heard were being shot as you hid with Chishiya. Against your will, you take a look at each and one of them, crouching and hiding once in a while and hoping that one of them wasn’t people you know. 

You hear multiple gunshots from what looked like it came from an alley. Hastily, you run in that direction. 

As you get nearer, you hear the familiar voices. However, they weren’t speaking, they were screaming in agony. 

You readied your gun, cocking it, and stealthily walked into the alley. Usagi was shouting in pain. Kuina too. You walk faster, the lightest you could possibly go knowing that the King of Spades may know you’re coming. 

You lean on the wall as you reach a turning point, slowly peeking further into the alley where you’re sure that’s where they are. 

It was An you see first.

Her unmoving body sprawled out on the floor, her white shirt covered with blood. Next to her, was a crying Kuina, bleeding from what looked like multiple stab wounds. 

Usagi was on the King of Spades’ back, trying her best to choke him but he brought out a knife, plunging it into her knees multiple times. They were moving too often and you cursed to yourself because you were not a great shot. 

It was Usagi’s screams of pain that put you in overwhelming urgency. You take a deep breath, aim, and shoot.

Bang!

You press the trigger at the same time as the King of Spades throws Usagi from his back and onto the ground. You keep on shooting, revealing yourself from your hiding place at the edge of the alley and marching to him. 

The bullets hit and some don’t, having been avoided by the skilled man. A veteran. Or maybe someone like Aguni. You can see his face unlike before and there were no longer multiple pieces of armor adorning his body. 

He heads on straight to you and before he reaches you, you throw the gun far behind him. He only has a knife and you can’t risk him having a gun. It has to be this way for you to beat him. 

You hear Kuina or Usagi mumbling your name as they realize that you were here.

Your opponent lunges at you with his blade and you run to tackle him, putting both your fists forward. As he swings his fist holding the knife, you misdirect him with what supposedly looked like a tackle and swiftly shift to the right and smack his face with your right fist while holding his left arm with your left. The impact makes him stumble to his right and you jump, kicking his waist with both feet to make him lose his balance entirely.

He didn’t. It didn’t work.

He stayed standing on the ground like a statue, putting all his weight on his feet. This made you clench your legs to his body to steady your hold on the arm with the knife. 

He uses the opportunity to grab your leg and keep it there. You repeatedly slam his head with your fists while he, like a bull, runs and slams your back to the nearest wall. You grunt in pain, your other leg that he wasn’t holding falling and you use that leg’s foot and slam it against the wall so you won’t be pressed further. 

You put all your strength into preventing him from using the blade and take the pressure of you against the wall to steady yourself. You smash your fist on his eyes repeatedly and repeatedly until his head is thrown back. 

He growls. The hold that was on your leg tightens enough to hurt the muscle and you scream in pain while still slamming your fists into his face. The pressure of his hold was enough for him to lift you again and then throw your body on the ground. 

You were quick to go back on your feet and he was already lunging at you but you spin, unsheathing the Katana on your back and pointing it at him. You put yourself in the traditional Kendo stance with both your hands on the grip, left foot behind the right, and hips straightforward. 

This makes him step back enough but still hold the knife in his hands with conviction, ready to attack or counter at any given moment. 

To be honest, you’re never very well versed in playing around with swords but… you’ve been carrying it around all this time, won’t it be a waste to not use it?

You attack first, swinging the sword which he blocks with his small blade. You swing to the other side and he blocks that again. 

You back away again and thrust forward which he avoids by jumping to his right. He rushes with his knife and knowing you can’t block it with your long blade, you bend backward and go under his arm. Successfully, you avoid his attack then spin and turn to face him again, slashing your sword onto his back, creating a huge gash on his shirt, his bulletproof vest, and his skin. 

Your eyes are wide as blood drips from your blade. 

Wow, these things are really sharp, you think. 

You attack again as he turns around, swinging the blade again and he backs away to the wall to avoid it. 

You expected him to dodge but he didn’t. What he did catches you off guard as he quite literally holds the blade of your sword in hand and not minding as the skin on his palm is sliced open. Brows furrowed and eyes blazed, he holds the sword in place and then uses the blade in his other hand to stab you in the stomach.

The blade pierces your skin in one swift motion and your jaw drops, not even having the chance to scream in pain. He stabs you again. And again. And again. Harder and deeper at every thrust.

You grip the hand with the knife, pushing all your strength into both hands. He was so strong that you could barely keep his hand away from your stomach. You wanted to slam his hand on the wall but he was far too strong like a rock. 

Tears well up in your eyes. You still have to go back to Chishiya. 

But this was starting to look like a losing game. 

From your peripheral, you see Aguni crawling in the direction of where you threw your gun. So he was still alive. Even if you lose, he can win. And where was Arisu? You doubt he left Usagi alone.

And then it hits you.

They have a plan.

You scream and push with all your might, overpowering the King of Spades’ hand and slamming the knife against the wall. You slam your head from under his chin while repeatedly slamming his fist against the wall until his grip on the knife loosens.

However, him losing the blade causes his hand to be free from anything and he uses it to overpower you again, slamming his fist against your face in one big punch. His fist was heavy and his punch was nothing like you ever received before. It caused your head to throb and everything felt blurry for a few seconds.

You realized that you were thrown on the ground from the impact and your sword was no longer in your hand. Your vision was still a bit fuzzy as you see him holding the sword but then hear it hit the ground from far away. 

Seeing from your eyes opening and closing out of consciousness, his silhouette was picking something up and then he was on top of you. 

Why can’t you move? Everything feels so strange. Will you really lose this time? 

You felt a weight on your torso and a black figure hovering over you. He raises his fist, slamming it across your jaw. Fuck. Was that fucking personal? 

Your hand shoots up to stop the King of Spades’ other hand from stabbing you again. You don’t know when you’ve reached for your hunting knife strapped to your leg but you somehow did and plunged it right into his side and drew it back.

His free hand that punched you gripped your hand hard, slamming it on the cemented ground. You grunt, tears forming in your eyes as you try and get out of his hold or under him. 

You push yourself up as he keeps on pressing you down to the ground. You wrap your legs around him and scream with all your might to turn yourself, putting all your weight on him and turning him over. 

His wounded back slams on the ground and you stare at his deadly eyes, seeing the hatred and the urge to kill in his eyes. It scared you, to be honest. You’ve encountered lots of fighters. Strong, weak, arrogant, psychopaths, assholes, whatever they are, they always got a reason to fight no matter how pathetic it may be. 

This man right here, he has a reason too. And from the looks of it, it’s not because he simply wants to win the game. There has to be something like a personal agenda. That made him a lot scarier. 

You’re not stupid. You know you’re not a match for this man.

But if by wounding him a little, you’re helping the others, then you’ll gladly give your life. You just have to go back to Chishiya after. 

Maybe Banda was right after all.

Your eyes catch Aguni who was getting near the gun. You sigh and when you look back down, the King of Spades slams his forehead against yours, knocking you back distracted and he plunges his knife again into you multiple times, blood spurting out of your mouth as he does so.

You could no longer move, the force of the blade wrecking you back and forth, making you fall back on the ground with wide eyes. You even hear Usagi crying for you.

The King of Spades doesn’t stop assaulting you when you fall on the ground because you don’t stop fighting back. You scream and scream, kicking him repeatedly however you can. He pulls one of your legs and stabs the knife in your thigh, specifically where your previous gun wound is. This made you stop fighting, wailing in pain but you catch yourself quickly, stabbing the knife in your hand on his foot and on his leg. He kicks your knife out of your hand and steps on your palm. You scream as you hear and feel your bones break. He doesn’t stop, kicking your stomach and letting your bleeding out pace faster. 

Eventually, you become unresponsive to his hits, having everything feel numb that you can’t move. Your hand was broken, there were about ten stab wounds on your body, and your leg was wrecked. 

You didn’t realize you ended up beside Usagi who was holding out her hand to you while barely conscious. 

You hear two gunshots and you don’t even know if that is Aguni or the King of Spades. 

You were crying, face wet with blood, sweat, and tears. You have to get back to him. You have to tell him. 

“Usagi… help me. Chishiya,” you plead with a hoarse voice. “H-have to go back.” 

And then everything turned black.

Arisu screams Usagi’s name as she falls on the ground with you, her injured legs and the weight of you was too much to support. Usagi could no longer scream for the pain and you were completely out of it. 

You were crying, face wet with tears. The sight was breaking Arisu’s heart. The two girls who saved him when he was dying inside himself—those two girls who always seemed strong, who always saved him, he was watching as you both crumbled on the ground, beaten up, and weakened. 

He picked up Usagi first, seeing as she was the one still conscious or at least in the right mind to talk to him. He cradled her face in his hands, tapping it as she was being pulled and pushed from consciousness.

“Arisu…” It was barely a whisper, slipping past her dry lips. She calls for him, forehead scrunched as she tries to tell him something more but her body fails her. Arisu could only make out your name. 

He looks over at you, sprawled out on the ground and bleeding from multiple stab wounds on your body. You were hysteric and sobbing, trying to crawl the ground and away from them as he heard that the registration for the Queen of Hearts game was starting. It was obvious what you were trying to do. 

He doesn’t know whether to pity or admire your love for Chishiya. 

Helping Usagi up, he let her stand on her own for a few seconds before reaching over to you and picking you up, hooking your arm over his shoulders and his hands on your back and under your thighs. 

You groaned in pain at Arisu’s sudden hold, tears pouring down your face as Arisu’s shirt is soaked with your blood. Once he stabled his footing, he let Usagi hold his arm for guidance as she struggled to walk with her injured knees. 

The two of them walk in the direction of the Queen of Hearts game with you in his arms. Thankfully, Chishiya was on the way to the game. 

It was like a death march. Arisu seemed to be the only man standing to enter the game. If it was up to him, he’d rather join the game alone. But from the determination on Usagi’s face, it seemed that she wouldn’t have that at all.

He only wished that no one has to die any more after the last game. He wishes to finish the game as fast as possible, hoping that he could save everyone who tried their best so far and are still trying to keep alive. You, Aguni, Kuina, Chishiya, An, Heiya, and everyone who was still breathing here in Tokyo. No one should die anymore. 

“Shun…” It doesn’t even seem like you were still conscious anymore. He doesn’t know if you know he’s carrying you to him. It’s like you’re only dreaming of him. 

“It’s okay, we’re near Chishiya. Hang on, Y/N. Just hang on.” Arisu assures you but as he says this, your eyes finally shut close and your body goes limp against his hold.

As that rusted car came into view, Usagi and Arisu went quiet, dreading the news that they were about to deliver to the white-haired man. 

They pass the trunk of the car, catching the attention of the injured man in the bloodied white jacket leaning on the car door. He turns his head, spotting Arisu first and then the person he was holding. There you are, eyes closed, beaten, and bloodied. 

The hand resting on his lap drops to his side and he tries his best to sit up straight. Usagi lets go of Arisu’s arm and lean on the car’s trunk. Arisu carefully placed your body next to his. 

Whatever Chishiya was feeling was incomprehensible as he stared at your color-drained face.

Arisu couldn’t even say anything to the man. He wanted to say sorry but what would that do? He wanted to tell him why he brought you here but he’s sure he already knows the answer. What he could do, however, is to finish the last game quickly. 

Chishiya didn’t even notice as Arisu and Usagi left, still looking at you, breathing slowly and watching as your chest would barely rise and fall. 

He always liked being right. It gave him a sense of security that he was doing things well. You were the only thing that never made him feel secure as you were always pushing yourself into danger. He knew from the moment he saw him that the King of Spades was far too strong for you. When he said to you that you were no match for the King of Spades, he wasn’t lying. 

And yet when he pushed you to fight the King of Spades, he also believed in you. 

He could only wish as the blimp crashed that you were still alive. 

And here you are, lying beside him… and he is so proud of you.

He never understood why you liked fighting. He didn’t understand what rush you were feeling from blood and sweat. But you’d never understand how his intelligence excited him either. He guesses that you two were both different and the same that way. 

Ever since he figured out that you went underground, he’d secretly sneak into every one of your fights. There were times when an opponent with an established name in the underground would come and challenge you. When those assholes of an audience would turn their back on you and bet against you even when they know what you’re capable of, he would still bet your name. Those were the only times in his life that he allowed himself to not be critical. 

You never lost once. 

He was kind of hoping that it’d happen one more time. But you did win. The King of Spades went down, didn’t they? But why does it feel like Chishiya lost instead?

“Focus.” Chishiya pushed the book you’ve pushed away in front of you. You glared at him and put down your phone.

He easily snatches the phone from the table and put it in his pocket. “Read,” he commands, eyeing the book the professor assigned for reading. 

“But it isn’t due next week,” you mumbled angrily as you leaned your head on your palm while looking down at the book’s pages. Chishiya hears this but ignores you, all too familiar with your whining.

You began reading as he wished but after five minutes of learning about anatomy, your brain starts flying away from you and your eyes start to get droopy. Your head starts getting heavy and soon starts slipping from your palm.

Chishiya sighs and without even looking up from his book, he uses the end of his pen to push your forehead up.

“Ahh,” you groan as he forbids you to fall asleep inside the library again. How could you not? It was very cozy, cold, and quiet.

“If you’re not going to study just go home.” 

He knows you don’t want to go home, finding nothing but an empty house there. You’ll definitely stay.

“But it’s boring.” You whine in a whisper. 

He sighs, still not looking at you. “Not my problem.”

This time, it was your turn to sigh. “Why do you even want to be a doctor? And don’t give me that to save lives bullshit, Shun. We both know you’re lying.” 

He shrugs. “Just because.” 

“Because?” You press further. 

He finally looks at you with a glare and repeats. “Just because.”

“Because your father was one?” You ask, tilting your head. 

It was the reason. There wasn’t a particular humane reason why. He just wanted to see what was so great about it—saving lives. He had more than enough intelligence to do it and it was the same thing his father devoted his life to, so why not?

“Do you not have a reason?” You ask again, this time more seriously. He doesn’t answer this time. 

You smiled, looking at your book now. “I think I’m too weak to be a doctor,” you admit, lips twitching. 

“I mean, I’m physically strong but mentally, I don’t think I have it. But you, I think you’ll be a great doctor, Shuntarou. You’ll save a lot of lives and help a lot of people.”

You used to have so much hope in him. You still do. But whatever slight confidence he had in himself that he’ll understand and care for people once he becomes a doctor, he lost it when he actually started to practice medicine. It wasn’t all about saving lives. It was a profession driven by greed and power. 

He thought that he could just ignore it. That if he just focused on his job, he won’t be included in their greed. It was pathetic of him to think that. 

A man like him who came from his father and followed his father will eventually become his father. 

Ever since realizing that, he didn’t have the guts to face you. Still, you kept on cheering him on, believing he was purely saving lives. You kept on visiting him in the hospital and gave him gifts. You didn’t know he basically killed Hayato and many more people. 

It was just the way it worked for him. To be honest, he envied you. You were living a double life but you were happy with that. You had a breather. He didn’t. 

If you married him, you’d be tied up to a man like your father and his father. You wouldn’t want to live like that. He didn’t want you to live like that. He used to say that you’d just be a burden to him but now he knows that he just wanted better for you.

He wasn’t enough for you. 

He was always afraid that one day, you’ll see how much of a pathetic man he is and pack your bags.

After the King of Diamonds game, he couldn’t escape the heavy feeling on his chest and the boggling of his mind. He didn’t feel well enough to see you. He had to figure out what it all meant. 

And so this happened.

“Chi…”

He wasn’t sure if he was hallucinating because he could barely hear it. But it did come from you. Even in your state, you were still mumbling his name. 

“Y/N?”

He called your name, desperate to hear your voice again. Don’t you have something to say to him? 

“I…” 

“Y/N.” His voice softened. You need to hear his voice to let you know he’s beside you. That way, you can tell him. 

Your face was pale and dried of both sweat and tears, dust and dirt all over it. Chishiya’s jaw clenched, turning his body to yours to face you. He held the gunshot in his chest as it ached when he moved again. 

“Shunta…” 

This time, you say it with a frown and a scrunched forehead, indicating that you were maybe getting a bit of consciousness. 

“I’m here.” 

Chishiya’s expression hardened, brows furrowing as he held your hand tightly. 

“I’m here,” he repeated. He felt a finger twitch against his hold. He held his breath, not blinking as he stared at your face. The few seconds that he was waiting felt a hell lot longer. 

And then you smiled. 

You smiled. 

You smiled and then your face relaxed.

The color drained out of Chishiya’s face as he realized what was happening—what he knows is happening but his mind, letting itself be controlled by emotions for the third time that day, was hoping for a different outcome. 

He hoped you weren’t just hallucinating before your last breath. 

“I…” It was coming from his mouth this time.

“I love you too.”

The skies turned dark and time was a concept that Chishiya lost track of. He was still holding your hand as they turned pale. 

He had his eyes on the Queen of Hearts blimp the whole time, silently wishing that Arisu and Usagi would win the game soon. He had all hopes for him. He knows that Arisu could make it. 

Congratulations.

All of the games have now been cleared. 

The first explosion of the blimp made him realize that he was not breathing well the whole time as if anticipating something. He let out a sigh of relief as the explosion was followed by another and another as fireworks scattered the sky. 

The whole of Tokyo is surrounded by fireworks and he stares at your face illuminated by them. It was done. What now? What makes the two of you?

All surviving players will be presented with two choices. Players must now decide whether to accept permanent residence in this country or decline it. Once again, players must now decide whether to accept permanent residency or decline it. 

What do you know… you do get a choice. 

His hand holding yours tightens. With his other hand, he pushes away the hair that got on your face, ignoring the searing pain from his wounds. 

“We’re gonna have to decline… I think.” 

You have to go back with him. And when you do, he promises to himself that he won’t let anyone hurt the two of you anymore. Not himself, not yourself, not your father nor his father. No one else. 

It will be just the two of you. 

The last thing he remembers is he was on his way to your date. It was the last thing he wanted to do that day. He’d rather work on some patient’s case. But it was his day off and he didn’t really have anything better to do other than work. 

He was walking along Shibuya when something that looked awfully like a meteor passed in the sky. Everyone looked up in awe until they realized that it was coming straight near. 

And then he woke up here on the hospital bed. 

The man beside him had burns all over his body. The side of his face was also burnt, Chishiya assumes as half of his face is also bandaged. He was throwing a coughing fit. 

“What do you want?” The man groans as Chishiya stares at him. 

“It looks to me like you’ve experienced a cardiac arrest,” Chishiya answers, vocalizing his opinion as a doctor. 

“What are you, a doctor?” The stranger asks. 

“Well, I did too.” He answers instead, not really wanting to tell the truth for some reason. The doctor did tell him that his heart stopped for a whole minute when he woke up so it wasn’t really a lie.

“What a coincidence.” 

“So we both almost died.” Chishiya raises both his brows before asking a question that relates to him as well. “You feel any different now?” 

The stranger sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I look a lot worse. What about you?” 

Chishiya takes his eyes away from the man. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my life, the choices I had to make. Pretty sure I’m gonna be turning my life around.”

With the way he lived his life, he felt like he shouldn’t be one of the people lying here on the hospital beds. There were people much better than him—people that deserved to survive more…people like you.

“Or something like that.” He continues. 

He was alone when the meteor hit. But he was on his way to meet you. He couldn’t help but wonder about you. Were you okay? Were you already in the area when the meteor hit? It was the first time in his life that he actually felt scared for you. He didn’t want you to be one of the casualties of the tragedy.

“You were a piece of shit too, huh? You fucked up?” 

He thought back to his life choices, the way he is as a doctor, as a son, and as a friend to you. He did fuck up. He forgot why he was doing all of these in the first place. Him being here alive, it felt like he was being given another chance. He wanted to be better. To himself and to you.

“I did.”

Niragi scoffs and sighs, halting the conversation and letting the room fall into silence again, only the light vibrating sound of the air conditioner being heard.

Chishiya asked for your name when the nurse came in. There was a lot in need of medical care but she clearly remembered your name. When he saw the familiarity in her eyes, Chishiya knew that there could only be two reasons and one certainty. 

The only certainty was you were definitely here and the reasons being one, your name was well known in the medical community in Japan, and two, you were in a critical condition. Doctors and Nurses at times of tragedies like this often have a hard time remembering their patients’ names unless they’re at the top of the list of people who need immediate help.

“Ms. Y/N L/N. Do you know her?” 

“Yes.” 

Chishiya pauses before continuing. 

“She’s my fiancée.”

The doctor agreed to let Chishiya leave the room but not before realizing who he was. On a wheelchair, Chishiya wheels himself to the ICU where he was told you are. 

He has only seen you a few days before but to him, it felt like there were missing pieces that he can’t seem to figure out. He had never craved to see you like this before. He had to see you. 

Chishiya pushed the wheel to turn with his palms, slowly walking the hallway of the hospital, and observing the other patients he was passing by. 

He stops by a man that catches his eye. His condition looked bad and seemed to be in a coma. He sighs, at least he was lucky with what he got.

Pushing his chair again, Chishiya realizes that one of the wheels is stuck. 

“Fuck,” Chishiya curses, looking down at the wheel while trying to lean his body towards the floor without opening his stitches.

“Something stuck. Here, let me help you.”

Dreadlocks come into Chishiya’s view first as she leans down and grabs something from under his chair. “There we go,” she mumbles and lifts her head, giving him a warm smile. 

Chishiya raises a brow, staring at the woman’s face. Her brows rise and her smile drops in return, slightly bewildered at his ungrateful expression. It wasn’t that he wasn’t thankful. It’s just that her face looked awfully familiar and he couldn’t quite think why. It’s unsettling how he feels this way since the tragedy. 

“Thank you.” He quickly drops his face back to a nonchalant one and thanks her. She rises to her feet, throwing what looked like a small piece of crumpled cardboard in the nearest trash can with ease. 

“Meteor too, huh?” She asks, scratching the back of her head. Chishiya nodded, looking at her from head to toe. It doesn’t seem like she’s in a bad condition seeing as she can still walk with her two feet.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad for me.” She quickly notices what Chishiya meant by his look. “Although they said my heart stopped for like a minute. I’m Kuina, by the way.” 

“Chishiya,” he introduces himself. “They told me my heart stopped too. So did the one I’m sharing my room with.” 

“Huh. That’s weird.” Kuina pursed her lips, crossing her arms. “So, ‘ya know anyone here?”

Chishiya nodded, a bit confused as to why he was keeping a conversation with a complete stranger yet he answers. “Yeah. I’m looking for my fiancée.” 

Kuina evidently pauses, a little shocked by the information. That could only mean that his fiancée is in critical condition if she’s on this floor. She nods and asks. “Do you need help? I can wheel you to them.”

Oddly enough, Chishiya lets her. His new acquaintance pushes his wheelchair slowly as he eyes the names on the doors of the single-bed ICUs. The hospital they were in was quite large and no doubt owned by your father. He’s quite surprised you weren’t transferred to a VIP one yet. Was your condition that bad? 

“Wait.” He stops Kuina as he sees that familiar name on the side of the sliding glass door. 

Y/N L/N

“She’s here.” 

He could see clearly from outside. You were there, on the bed enclosed by protective transparent curtains. A weirder feeling settles on his chest and then he finally feels it. He finally finds what he lost along the way—what he craved to feel again.

Care. Despair. Agony. He finally understands as a tear falls from his eye. 

He loves you.

© 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.

#feedback: house of cards #thank u again #30k words in one post is probably a lot u thought it was a one shot #idk what i was doing too

[wolfvmin]

Oh, Darling! | MYG | Series Announcement

MAIN MASTERLIST

STARTS JULY 31ST

Pair: Professor!Yoongi  x Student!Reader 

Summary: Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

Genre: Series, fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, university au.

Warnings: This series is part of the Hyung Line Daddy Collection. Mild age gap (not underage) where Yoongi is in his early thirties and Yn is in her early twenties, power play, since he is her professor, but it’s not toxic or abusive and Yoongi doesn’t take advantage of his position, daddy kink (eventually). Forbidden relationship. Cousin Jungkook, Best Friend Jimin (what is new), art student Tae, literature student reader and Namjoon. Side pairing: ?? and ??. This series has a LOT of smut, in almost every chapter. 

WC: 108k total.

Updates: Every monday and every other saturday. 

Taglist: Open. (Leave a comment or send an ask to be added 💜)

[Membership]

Teaser:

Yoongi’s car was clean and comfortable, nothing flashy or ostentatious, but he did have a built-in GPS and a very modern sound system. He kept a mellow R&B playlist low on the background as he drove and you couldn’t help but stare at the veins in his arm as he held the steering wheel with one hand. 

In such a small space everything seemed heightened. From the sound of your own heavy breathing, to the rustle of the plastic bag with your leftover dinner resting by your feet. But it was Yoongi’s soft hums when he liked a song and the amplified scent oozing off of him that was making you go a little crazy. 

When the car came to a halt a few stops away from your building, slightly hidden behind a large tree and away from the nearest street lamp, you wanted to find an excuse, anything to stay there and prolong your goodbyes. You wouldn’t have another class with Yoongi for a few days, since he liked to rotate his two assistants, and you didn’t know when you’d have a one on one session with him again. 

The professor didn’t seem eager to let you go either, when he turned the engines off and cut the lights. 

“I hope your wife won’t mind you staying out so late.” you heard yourself saying, heart beating quickly on your chest at the prospects of a confirmation you didn’t want. 

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, pushing his hair away from his forehead again. “Don’t have one.” 

“Your girlfriend then?” 

“Not that either.” 

If Yoongi thought your questions were invasive or out of line, he didn’t show it. When you removed your seatbelt and let it slide back into place, the man turned slightly to the side. To stare at you. To wait for your next move. When you didn’t make any motion of leaving his car, he clicked his own seatbelt free. 

Was he expecting you to invite him up? You doubted it, since he was careful enough to park so far away from the entrance of your dorm building, where it was safe from prying eyes. 

“Yn.” he said, and you liked the way your name sounded in the solitude of his car. 

“Yes, Professor Min?” 

Whatever question he had seemed to die on his tongue and you basked in the way his gaze seemed to grow darker. You licked your lips out of habit, a movement that caught his sharp attention immediately. 

You couldn’t tell when you started leaning into his space. Maybe it was before his warning call to your name, even. Your heart was pumping so much blood through you that your pulse was buzzing in your ears. 

“Told you to not call me that when it’s just the two of us.” his tone was low, teasing almost, and it sent a pool of heat right between your legs. 

“What do you want me to call you?” you were a breath away from whimpering, begging him to close the distance before you leaned all the way over the console of the car, you needed him to give you something. “Sir?”

[wolfvmin]

it'll pass.

pairing: levi ackerman x gn!reader summary: a drabble of that fleabag scene but in levi's version wc: 1,826 genre: major angst warnings: fleabag (tv) and aot spoilers obvi a/n: i was in my feelings sorry

“I love you.”

You know it wouldn’t end well.

You told yourself a million times, “Don’t expect. It will lessen the disappointment.” But as you sit there, side by side, shoulder to shoulder, and knees almost touching, with the one you need like water, there are no more expectations to break. It’s done. You’ve said it. You’ve let out those words that prick like thorns at the back of your throat, aching to be said longer than you can admit. Now, it hangs dead in the air, waiting to be caught—to be answered.

From the small distance between you, you can see his steel eyes glisten under the moonlight. You can see the dark lines under his eyes and the creases on his forehead. Life hasn’t been kind to the man you love. It never was to anyone. But if you could change one person’s fate, it would be his. You don’t know the extent of what you would give to lighten the load in his heart. You would give anything to have him smile, to have him laugh, and to have him live, that was your wish.

And yet, you know that by having done this, you’ve burdened his heart more.

His eyes bore into yours, a million words settling into his irises. Just like that, you were back to where it all started.

It started at stolen glances, cheeks heating up whenever his eyes meet yours. You tried to avoid his gaze, pulling yourself out of the trance it would give you. You wanted to get lost in them. But you know that having an eye for the Survey Corps soldier was a stupid idea.

There were things much bigger than the both of you, things that only he could do. Levi Ackerman is humanity’s strongest soldier. One of Commander Erwin’s greatest gambles in the war against the Titans. There was no room for you in it, a normal resident of Sina. You know that the expected fate for you is to accept a marriage from someone who can stay with you as long as you can live inside these walls while relying and waiting on the scouts’ mission to maybe end the suffering of the people in these walls. It’s what was taught to you for years. But as always, you weren’t one to listen.

You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help but to shop on your own in the markets when you can have servants do it for you. You couldn’t help but to talk to the people there, asking them what new things they could offer you every time you were around. You couldn’t help but try out every new food and beverage you could find.

You couldn’t help but notice the timid and quiet man buying tea every third Sunday of the month. He would be there exactly at the time you first saw him and you would wait to see him, not even talk or be near him. You just want to see his face. He always looks tired. There were creases on his forehead that always seemed to be scrunched. His lips were either turned down into a frown or a straight line. Although he looked very neat with his long-sleeved white button and black slacks, his clothes don't seem to be of noble or great wealth. He doesn’t seem to be a servant or one of the workers from Rose.

He orders the same black tea every Sunday. The same one your father drinks every morning. It was rare and expensive, something about it being grown on a small plot of land protected here in Sina. You’ve tried it once out of curiosity but was not very fond of it. It was too bitter for your liking. But nonetheless, you thought that if the mysterious man had enough to spare for one canister of it a month, he must have enough of an income.

Eventually, he notices your stolen glances and thought you were suspicious. He cornered you in an alley one time on the way to the markets, having expected you to be there already. In fear and fluster that the man was finally in close distance, you sputtered out your apologies and told him the truth that you only found yourself being curious about him. He warned you not to do it again. You could only meekly answer an agreement.

In anticipation for the next time he came, you were fully prepared to offer another apology. Your next interaction would have to be better that time around, you thought as you have already carefully gone about your words and have been holding a canister of the same black tea he prefers. Unfortunately, he didn’t come by the next month. Still, you waited.

The month after that as you wait, it was running a bit late, and when you were convinced that you have officially run the man away from this market, you finally caught sight of the man you have been waiting for. He had the same tired expression on his youthful face, the same haircut that always seemed to be trimmed at the perfect length, and the same grey cold eyes. Except, this time, he wears a military uniform with an insignia you don’t see much on these walls—the wings of freedom.

You froze where you stood, just near the pop-up teashop. You see that someone strides closely behind him, towering over him with his upright posture and blonde hair. Of course, you know who that is. That’s Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps. People thought him to be the devil commander, ruthless and ambitious. And beside him is the man you’ve been following every month, a member of the military division that gets sent to their deaths every expedition.

But still, you approached them with a smile and introduced yourself. Erwin gives you Levi a glance after, one that you couldn’t interpret the meaning of. At first, you thought that Erwin didn’t particularly enjoy your presence there. But he gave you a smile and even pushed the smaller man in your direction. He even gave you a wink behind his back.

Since then, Levi, a wonderful name for a breathtaking man like him, continued to come back every month.

And here you are now, standing at the edge of a cliff from the pressure of accepting a marriage for convenience versus your feelings for the captain of the Survey Corps.

It was silent. Not even the sound of air whistling or the birds chirping can be heard in the dead of the night. You can only hear the sound of your heart beating. You can hear his heart in sync with his. You can feel his pulse as he closes a hand over yours. Not fast. Not slow. Perfectly balanced. His rough hands held your soft ones, caressing them with his thumb. Fond, caring, and comforting.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Carefully, he smiles. A painful one. If you knew that the first time you’d see him give you a smile like this, you would have never asked for it.

After spending a long time with Levi more than his monthly visits to Sina, you’ve come to learn more about him. You were his only friend outside the scouts and if he were to choose who he’s the closest with among them, you know he’d choose Erwin. He highly respects him and he told you how he vowed to follow the great commander to the darkness. And you know fully that what you’re asking of him will collide with Erwin’s decisions. He can’t be with you. He can’t love you.

Gently, two words come out of his mouth. “It’ll pass.”

They were not the three words you longed to hear. But you smiled back, holding back the tears with an accepting smile. He nods, smiling back as if he was convincing himself. It was there that you realized that he was saying it to himself more than to you.

There was another silence. But this time, it no longer holds the weight. And yet, you don’t feel any relief, no burden lifted, and no thorns plucked out of you. You could only feel his hand for comfort and you looked down on it once again, memorizing the veins on his skin as if it will be the last time you look at it. You trace your fingertips over them, blinking away the tears that seemed to fall without your consent. The blurriness in your sight that your tears caused is going against your purpose to capture his hand in your brain. You don’t want to forget him. Ever.

You would rather memorize his face and how he looked knowing one day, you might forget his face. But with his hand and the way he holds yours, you know that both your dreams and nightmares will be plagued by it. You want to see it. You want to remember how it felt to be loved like this—to be loved by him, even if he didn’t say it yet. You know. You always knew.

His forehead is close to yours and you can feel him trying his best not to make them touch, he’s hesitating—pulling away in fear that he might never want to break it. His lips are quivering and he draws them in tightly into a line to halt it.

You don’t know how long you sat there but somehow, Levi was able to pull away, mutter he has to leave, and stand up. He takes a few steps away from you before pausing, back turned on you.

You called his name, the ache in your chest intensifying as it rolled off your tongue.

“I’ll see you next Sunday.”

He turns around, the same pained expression on his face. The corner of his lips twitches up ever so slightly in amusement. Both of you know that things will never be the same again. You will never come to see him in the market and he will probably never come to buy tea personally again. But still, he nods and lets out an unexpected response to your statement.

“…I love you too.” It came out in a whisper but it was loud enough for you to hear. He looked into your eyes for a few more seconds before looking away entirely. Before he turned around, you see a single tear fall from his eye. You watch as he walked away until you could no longer see his form fade into the darkness.

It never passed. Not even as the truth about the Titans and the people outside was uncovered. Not even as you survived all that, somehow. Not even as you held your child from a man that wasn’t him, a gold ring adorning your finger. Not even as you saw him again, wounded, and being wheeled by two children. Not even as your eyes met his cold, gray one.

It never passed.

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

[wolfvmin]

mami (m) (teaser) | myg/knj

— “then hurry up, mami. gimme one more for luck.”    

title: mami (teaser) pairing: battle rappers!myg/knj x reader(f) , slight jhs x reader(f)😛 rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; battle rap au , roommates au  summary: turns out, two of the guys you’ve been hooking up with are battle rappers. and roommates. and the most competitive gd people you’ve ever met.  warnings for fic: [redacted] lmfaooooo🥴🥴🥴  warnings for teaser: cursing, yoongi’s fit, dirty talk, namjoon deserves his own gd warning throughout this whole fic so it’s included in the teaser warnings, too :^))  note: fuuuuuuck me lol. this is also gonna have some heavy 00s vibes so let’s fcking go🦋 est. drop date: jul-aug 2023 est. word count: 15-20k taglist: join here (will be checking blogs!) —18+ teaser below if you want to read :)) drops you right in the middle! minors dni.  

Keep reading

#...oh #ready for this

[wolfvmin]

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

Chapter 1: Windex and Baking Soda

WC: 7,182 Chapter Warnings: slight angst Summary: Everyone in Levi's life knows he only ever dated one girl and that she left him wrecked, bitter, and heartbroken. Many years later, she's back in his life and he doesn't know what to do. story masterlist > next chapter

“It’s always my pleasure, Mr. Brown.”

The corporate smile on your face drops as soon as you hit the end button in the video call application on your laptop. It was the first meeting of the day with a client and you were already exhausted, wanting nothing but to go home and curl up in bed, heavily surrounded by your pillows and weighted blanket for hours. But you know that’s a dream that would remain a fantasy for a while. Why? Because it’s a Monday. It’s only the start of the week and judging from the pile of paperwork delivered to your desk this morning, you would have to work overtime again for the third week in a row. 

Being recently hired by one of the top leading firms in the country is a blessing you will be thankful for every day but as the week goes by and you’re on your fifth pile of paperwork, more than ten meetings in one week, you can’t help but think what would it be like to work for a small, quiet firm. You shrug those thoughts away as soon as they come. You’re grateful for the more-than-average salary the firm provides, at least.

The day went on as it always does: hours of you trying to ignore your back pain. It was becoming unbearable and you can’t even use the ointments your grandmother used to insist you use because it would no doubt infest the building with its smell—your reputation and first impression from your coworkers is at stake. 

As you’re typing back an email from your superior, Atty. Dot Pixis, you halt when you feel the buzzing on your table. You pick it up mindlessly, checking to see the notification. A smile spreads on your face to see that it’s your previous boss, Vanessa. 

hey. how’s working with the big leagues?? pixis is not tiring you out too much is he?? i can give him a word if you want.

pixis is treating me really well, nes. thank u for checking up on me! i miss everyone there at the firm and little ian :(( 

Vanessa, besides being your former boss back in Olsen & Associates, is also your friend and self-proclaimed older sister. She's a well-known attorney, and Olsen is a legend back in law school because she’s an alumnus who’s actually cool and doesn’t have their head up their asses. However, after deciding to settle down and start a family, she opened up a small firm in her hometown. 

i might just have to visit bc i miss my little sis :(( should’ve never let u leave

technically, it’s your fault i left 

i know :( don't remind me

Two months ago, Vanessa told you that ODM is hiring and Pixis contacted her to see if she knows anyone to take the job. Your jaw dropped to the ground when she told you she recommended you and you can send in your resume if you’re interested. It was an offer no one could pass up so before you knew it, you were being hauled into a hours-long bus ride and then anxiously seated for an interview in the city you used to live in. And after about a week of being a nervous wreck waiting for their response, you were contacted that you’ve been selected for the position.

Now here you are, finally settled in your office. You still can’t believe you have your own space in this huge building. You would’ve never thought you’d be working here in the firm you only used to stare at in awe while passing by years ago. 

Although, you have to admit that you miss the warm feeling of the small firm where you all know each other, exchange heartfelt greetings, and gossip when there are not too many clients. Now, you pass by a new face every now and then, most not even bothering to greet you or spare you a look. You can’t blame them. The work here is drastic. 

By the time you left the office, it’s already dark and way past office hours. As you were driving home, you remembered you still needed a few supplies in your apartment. You haven’t exactly settled yourself in, prioritizing work more. God, you even still had a few boxes to unpack. 

You stopped by a 24-hour supermarket that you spotted on your way to work this morning when you had to reroute because of the traffic. It was a little out of the way but it would do. It was still two hours before midnight, anyway.

As you drag your feet through the aisles and drop whatever you felt like you needed in the cart, unwanted memories come creeping in. The air in Paradis City is still the same. Even if a few buildings might have changed or some stores you used to frequent have closed down, it was still the same Paradis you knew—a buzzing city filled with dreams. The streets are never empty, famously congested by students from top universities or office workers. 

When you got the offer for the job, you weighed out the pros and cons. There were only two cons you were able to determine:

You don’t want to leave Olsen & Associates and Vanessa’s hometown, Trost, and

You’d be going back to your hometown, the one you promised not to go back to. 

The pros outweigh the cons, obviously. That weight being the thick fat salary you would be getting. Besides, Paradis is huge and has like three million residents. It’s not like you’d cross paths with him. And it’s been years. He probably forgot all about you anyway. You barely think about him. It was just a silly puppy-love relationship. No biggie.

Keep telling yourself that.

Shut up. 

“That one’s better.”

A voice directed to you made you snap out of your thoughts. It made you painfully aware of how you had been staring at the two options of green tea in your hand for probably more than the normal minutes it takes one to decide. The tall brunette had on a face mask covering half his face, his hair parted in the middle, and he wore a simple light blue button-down and black slacks. He was about two feet away from you when he pointed at the tea canister in your right hand. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you replied sheepishly. Desperate to run away from the embarrassment of zoning out in the middle of a public space, you take his advice and put down the canister on your left hand back to the shelf. 

“You’re welcome. I see my friend drinking it all the time so it has to be good,” he nods and you see his cheeks prop up, probably sporting a smile beneath the mask. You smiled back and thanked him again.

“Can you grab that one for me?” He points at a sweet one, a flavor in contrast with the green tea you chose. It was on the shelf being blocked by your cart beside you. You quickly mutter an apology and reach for a can. 

“My fiancée prefers her tea fruity,” he explains even if you didn’t ask, his ears tinted a bit red from his own statement. You immediately find it endearing. He seems very fond of his partner as he continues to babble about her. “Well actually, she prefers coffee with an unhealthy amount of espresso shots but I eventually persuaded her to drink tea once in a while.” 

“Moby! I know we usually don’t get this brand but guess what? This has a free pink sponge!” 

You freeze at the sound of that awfully loud and familiar cheerful voice heading towards you at a fast pace. You couldn’t turn your head. Your fingers unconsciously grip the can you’re holding harshly with wide eyes. Silently, you were wishing that the person just had the same voice as the crazed tall woman with glasses you used to know or the man beside you isn’t named ‘Moby.’ The former would hardly be the case because from the sound of the voice, the personality of being uncaring of the silent atmosphere of the supermarket, and the way she ran excitedly from your peripheral vision, you were sure that this person was your old friend Hange. For the latter, your last hope dies down as you see the stranger turn his head at the sound of his name and reply with a sigh.

“What the hell are you gonna do with a sponge, babe? We have lots of sponges.”

“Okay but imagine! We swap out Levi’s sponge with a pink one.” 

“I don’t think Levi cares about the color as long as it cleans.”

The fight or flight response in you went crazy at the mention of the name you haven’t heard in years, heavily leaning on the former. You could just hand this guy named Moby’s tea and make a run for it. You doubt Hange would care while being heavily invested in her free pink sponge. 

But why would you run? You only run when you’re scared or did something wrong. Which is it? It can't be the latter, right? 

I did. 

Oh? So you did. You’re scared, huh? That she’d get angry at you for what you did back then. 

I am. 

Run then. That’s all you know to do anyway.

Shut up. Leave me alone. 

“Miss? Are you okay?” 

For the second time in front of the same stranger, you were snapped out of your trance and find yourself gripping the can so hard that you think you’ve made a light dent on the can. Damn, you should really get a decent amount of sleep. You’ve been losing it a lot lately. 

You shake your head and slap your cheek lightly with your free hand. “Sorry. Lack of sleep. I’m fine. Here.” 

You turn to him and hand him the can, hoping he wouldn’t mind the barely noticeable dent you made. Purposely, you don’t stray your eyes away from the man. You don’t want to be the first person to acknowledge Hange. Maybe she doesn’t even remember you. Maybe she doesn’t even want to acknowledge you. 

“Greenie?” 

It was more of a mutter. But with how loud Hanji’s voice is, you and Moby clearly heard it. 

That’s when you look at her and actually see her. She looks the same as you saw her last. Her brown hair was tied up in a ponytail and her brown eyes were covered by thick-rimmed glasses. Nothing much has changed from her appearance except for the disappearance of the youthful look now replaced by maturity. Her gaze is fixed on you, slack-jawed. Her reaction doesn’t surprise or faze you, having expected that much. It’s what would follow that you’re nervous about. What would she say? Will she get angry at you? Or will she even remember who you are? Somehow, you dread that last possible outcome worst. 

“H-Hange,” you breathily let out. You wonder if it’s audible. 

Her fiancé also looks shocked, staring at you and then back to Hanji with widened eyes. “This is Greenie? The Greenie?” He points at you while asking Hange who was still frozen. His tone and reference to you immediately tell you that you have been discussed with people you never met, no doubt now knowing your past with them. 

Greenie. You haven’t heard that nickname in a while. 

It was silent for a few seconds, eyes not straying from each other. You probably look apologetic—scared, even. The man beside her is waiting too. You think he’s having a mini breakdown in disbelief. 

When you see her start to lunge at you, you shut your eyes, expecting her palm to collide with your cheek. You expect her to slap you and scream at you in the middle of the cold supermarket. You expect her to ask you where you got the nerve to come back to the city after all you’ve done. 

Instead, what she did broke down all your expectations. 

Long and slender arms wrap around your figure, pulling you tightly to her chest. Your face is squished against the fabric of her fluffy parka jacket. Even if you suddenly have trouble breathing with how tight her hug is, you were thankful that it covered your face and how you were biting your lower lip, trying to suppress the relief that comes with tears.

“Where the hell have you been?!”

You couldn’t even answer. Or move at all. Not that you even know what to say. 

“Hange. You’re killing her.” You hear her partner say. Hange instantly loosens her grip on you, muttering an apology with a slight chuckle. When she looks down at you, you give her a gentle smile.

“I missed you too, Hange.” And you meant it. 

The tall woman was still not letting you go, arms wrapped just below your shoulders because of the height difference. Even if you were caged in her arms, you can still tilt your head up to look at her. Suddenly, tears started streaming down her face as she tilts her head down to you, her mouth quivering. Then it turns into full-on sobbing. You chuckle as she starts swaying you with her, going side to side like a pendulum as she sobs while wailing your name repeatedly. 

There was no stopping Hange when she gets like this. So you let it happen. You let her hug you like she did many times before. You relish the moment, wanting to pass out and let loose in her hold. Maybe you’re dreaming and you’ll wake up in your bed, filled with disappointment and yearning for some warmth.

When she was satisfied, she let you go and introduced you to Moblit, her fiancé and coworker. They walked with you as you continued to shop, telling you stories about her and Moblit. Thankfully for your sake, she didn’t ask you much about yourself or what happened when you were away. She just asked how you were doing right now and what you were doing in the city. Although you were scared that the news would get to him, you told her the truth that you recently got hired at the law firm. 

“So you moved back then? Like permanently?” Her brows raised in excitement. 

“Well, I have a temporary contract for six months before I’m permanently employed there so hopefully,” you shrug while heading to checkout. As expected, Hange doesn’t care that you practically explained that it’s technically a ‘not yet,’ she shrieks and jumps up and down anyway. 

“Oh my god, this is perfect! Greenie, one of my bridesmaids had to back out but we already had the dress paid and it’s a no-refund. Can you step in for her and attend our wedding? Would you? Please? Please?” Hange begs you, hands clasped together as she stares at you with puppy eyes and a pout. 

You stop in your tracks and feel your heart sink to the ground. She wants you to attend her wedding knowing that many, if not everyone, you used to know will be there. And if his name was so casually mentioned earlier, that meant that they were still very much best friends and he would definitely be there.

And a few minutes ago you were convincing yourself that you wouldn’t accidentally run into him in this city. Now, you have to actually see him and be in the same room for a few hours? 

You start with a chuckle. “Oh. I wouldn’t mean to impose—” 

You were abruptly overpowered by her loud negation. “No, you wouldn’t! Everyone would be ecstatic to see you! I swear.” 

“But—“

Hange sighs dramatically, shoulders slumping with a pout on her face. “I guess it’d be too much, wouldn’t it? You’re probably busy, right? Right. Sorry, I just got excited.” She turns to her boyfriend. “Moby, can you pay for our stuff and Greenie’s too?” 

“What?”

Your eyes widened but before you could protest or take a strong hold on your cart, Moblit was already dragging it away and sending a flying kiss to Hange who giggled like a schoolgirl to catch it with her fist. You turn to her in disbelief as he turns his back. She catches your face, knowing what you’re about to say. 

“It’s fine. That won’t make a dent in his bank account.”

Just like that, you were painfully reminded how no one could get a word in with Hange. 

“Un-fucking-believeable.” 

Niccolo, the training chef, flinched from behind him when the silver-eyed man let out an unprovoked profanity as he entered the restaurant. Connie, his loyal secretary, doesn’t even bat an eye at the unprofessional behavior of his boss, only following behind him with a straight face. 

“Shithead. Call Nile later. Tell him I want a new team on this…” his words halt in disgust as he sees the unfinished, poorly done walls of what was to be a new branch of Kuchel’s. “or I’ll fire his stupid construction company out of every damn project. Verbatim.” 

“Will do, sir.” Connie nods, mentally sighing. Not only is he used to hearing the profanities, but he’s also used to being ordered to say it too. 

Levi nods at his secretary’s response, eager to leave the abomination that was supposed to be at 80% progress at this date. As he turns, he’s faced with Connie and a blonde man he doesn’t know. 

“Who’s this?” 

The blonde man practically shivered at his haze, the corner of his lips twitching at the sides. It was a sad attempt at a smile. Mentally, Connie sighed at his boss’ unfocused mind when there was something that greatly irritates him. The trainee chef was just literally in the car with them and Levi told Connie to bring the chef with them on the way to check the new location. 

“This is Niccolo, sir. He was in the car with us. He’s the one highly considered by the HR,” Connie expertly answered. 

“So you’re on the last stage,” Levi addresses Niccolo. The nervous man gulps but answers. “Yes, sir.” 

Connie watches the exchange, feeling a bit of pity for the tall man cowering at the gaze of such a short guy with a temper taller than a skyscraper. He was exactly like this when Levi interviewed him for the position. 

“Sorry, I had to make a detour because some shitheads can’t do their job right. Let’s go.” 

And so Niccolo and Connie followed the grumpy man back to the vehicle they just got not even three minutes ago. 

Not that he knew what to expect or had guesses but Niccolo was utterly surprised that he was brought to the first Kuchel’s restaurant. The legendary one that went viral. 

When he passed by the reception area, his eyes widened when he saw the reservation list filled with no spots left. It was practically booked for the month from what he saw. 

The kitchen smelled amazing, each one of the cooks was busy and they actually looked happy while working. They worked with so much coordination and laughter like he had never seen before. 

He thought that he’d train or cook with them today, seeing as they’re Kuchel’s main branch’s team. He was excited too. But again, Levi surprises him when he pushes another door open from the kitchen, revealing a staircase. The man says nothing but climbs upstairs. 

Confused but too scared to ask, Niccolo only stares at Connie but who beckons him to follow him up the stairs. When he sees Levi take a glance behind him, his feet move on its own, following the cold short man’s steps.

He sees a living room first. It’s a simple home but maintained well enough to look pristine. He kept on following Levi as he eventually led him to a kitchen. Levi turned to him and he’d be lying if he said that his heart didn’t jump at his sudden order. 

“Do whatever you like. You have an hour.” 

And then he leaves the kitchen, leaving Niccolo confused as he looks around at the domestic kitchen. He sees Connie, Levi’s assistant aggressively mouthing the words ‘cook anything’ as he follows Levi back to the living room. 

“Good job. I think he liked it.” 

Connie whispers to Niccolo before he leaves. Normally, he isn’t allowed to tell the training chefs what Levi thinks. But he’s feeling a little silly and Niccolo is his friend and his best friend, Sasha’s, boyfriend. 

Just like all the other training chefs, Levi brought Niccolo to his old home to cook something for him. Levi is hella picky with them but Connie could see that he actually liked his friend’s food. There was no pursing of lips, which was the worst of them all. Connie had to scramble and get the trainee out before he burst the room into a myriad of colorful words no one wants to hear. 

When they got back to the office, Hange was already there and most probably uninvited. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, four eyes?” 

Levi’s eyes were seething with annoyance as he sees his friend sitting at his desk on his chair, spinning around like an idiot. It was hard to believe that this woman is a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in the country. 

“Shorty! You’re here!” She exclaimed, slamming her hands down on the fine wood of Levi’s desk to stop the chair from spinning. 

“Get the fuck up before I strangle you to death, Hange.” 

Hange chuckles but stands up anyway, skipping before plopping herself on the couch in Levi’s office. “Can you relax? I was just here to remind you that I’m getting married.” 

Levi groans and rolls his eyes. “Who would fucking forget, Hange? You text a fucking countdown at seven in the morning in the group chat tagged to everyone. The mute option has been fucking useless since you learned how to do it.” 

Levi sits down on his chair and switches on his computer to return to work despite his friend’s unsolicited visit to his office. 

“Oh! I wanted to ask you something too! Do you have a date for the wedding? So I can take note of a plus one, maybe?” 

He gives a blank stare to his friend for a second before turning back to his screen. “You know you can ask me that through a phone call, right?” He began typing away on his laptop, answering a few emails Connie forwarded to him. 

“Well, you blocked my number so I thought that you’d rather see me in person.” Hange shrugs with a grin.

Levi pauses, remembering that he did block Hange’s number that one night she insisted for he come over and watch a horror movie with Erwin and Moblit. He was working and couldn’t turn his phone on do not disturb mode so he had to specifically block Hange’s calls. He then proceeds to forget to unblock her until now. 

“So, no date?” Hange presses further. 

Levi grunts, annoyed at the stupid question. “Who the fuck am I gonna bring? It’s not like I’m gonna bring a random girl to your wedding, Hange.” 

“You totally could. They’re called escorts,” Hange suggests like a know-it-all.

“I don’t want a random stranger in your wedding pictures, four eyes.” 

“I would rather have that than see you so depressing in my pictures with your bitch face. Oh! Want me to set you up on a blind date?” Hange’s voice rises again, something that happens when she gets excited over an idea. 

“Fuck no,” Levi spat. 

“Your last serious relationship was decades ago, Levi. Give it a try again.” 

If looks could kill, funeral flowers would be thrown at Hange’s casket instead of wedding flowers. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hanging frozen at her words. At the mere implication of you, his blood boils and his chest tightens. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Well–”

“Are you saying I’m not over her again, Hange?” 

Before she could answer, the door swung open, revealing a tall blonde man with thick eyebrows who was grinning cheek to cheek. Great. Erwin’s here. Maybe they could send a few more uninvited people, order greasy pizza, and have a party in his office. 

“Over who?” Erwin asks, ever the gossip man. Levi grunts and rests his forehead in his palms as Hange greets Erwin enthusiastically before answering.

“You know who.”

Erwin narrows his eyes at Levi before sitting down on the other edge of the couch. Hange tells him about getting a blind date. “You could try, Hange. I’ve set him up with surprise blind dates before and you know how that went.” 

“Can you two fucking shut up and leave? I’m trying to work here,” Levi spat in annoyance. The pair ignores his grumbling, carrying on their conversation like he wasn’t in the room.

“But I have never set him up with someone before,” Hange points out. 

Erwin purses his lips. “I doubt that you can find a girl better than me, Hange. I tried everything.” 

Erwin and Hange look at each other with mischief, clearly enjoying Levi’s suffering from their teasing. He knows they won’t stop. If anything, it only egged them on further.

Hange places a finger on her chin obnoxiously. “Maybe you could ask the girl to wear green next time.” 

Erwin nods, crossing his arms like he’s actually considering it. “Absolutely. We all know Levi still loves his greenie.” 

God, even her nickname is a pain to hear. 

Levi slams a hand down his mahogany desk so loud that people outside his office probably heard it. It didn’t faze his friends who were snickering on the couch though. They know he’s about to blow. He’s so frustrated that he almost ran a finger through his well-kept hair but caught himself before damaging it, exhaling loudly in frustration before speaking. 

“Look, you dipshits. I told you a thousand times. Forget about that damned woman. I’m not dating because I’m goddamn busy with all these expansions, not because I’m not over a girl who left us all without a fucking trace.” Every word is laced with venom and he ends it with a huff. 

“Fine. We get it. You’re over her but you’re still angry at her.” Hange rolls her eyes. 

Levi doesn’t know exactly when they started referring to her as mere stories or inside jokes. But evidently, it turned out that way. They used to be hurt at the thought of her disappearing. Slowly, they started to forget. Except him. He’s still angry and confused when he thinks of a reason why. 

“I am,” he admits.

“And if she comes to see you again? What will you do?” 

This question again, Levi thinks. 

He sighs. Like an automated machine, he answers the question as he did a myriad of times before, the first being the answer to one of your stupid games of what-if questions when you were together. Most were just ways to make him say those damn three words to you. It was usually just dumb things like “What if I was a worm?” and he would roll his eyes and tell you that he would unhesitatingly kill you before kissing you when you frown in disappointment. One question, however, deeply offended him more than anything. 

“Levi, what if I asked you to break up with me?” 

You were sitting on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs, still reeling from the sad romantic movie the two of you watched where the disabled paralyzed man still decides to die even after he fell in love with his caregiver. 

Levi, who’s in the middle of choosing another movie from your collection of DVDs, freezes in his seat. He doesn’t turn to look at you but you see his whole body tensed up having heard what you said.

“What if we break up like that?” 

You repeat the question with a pout on your lips. Levi finally looks at you with a frown on his face. He sighs and looks away, gaze lifting up for a second as if he’s thinking. 

“No,” he answers even if the question upsets him. “We’re not gonna break up.”

You noticed that his mood falters from your question.  Feeling a little bad, you wrap a hand around his bicep, pulling yourself close to his side. With a smile, you lean in and give him a peck on the cheek. “Don’t be sad. It was just hypothetical.”

He instantly leans unto you. He always does so when you’re near—like opposite sides of a magnet being pulled together by force. He always wants to be near you.

“Can you just go back to stupid questions like the worm shit?” He asks with a low voice, faces too close to each other that his lips could brush yours. 

You give him a teasing grin and hum, nodding but doing the exact opposite of what he asked. Ever his stubborn girl, you continue asking. “But what if I leave you?” 

He glares at you, not very pained this time, knowing it’s just you teasing again. Instead, his brows furrowed as he gazed down at you with his silver eyes. His eyes flick down to your lips and his lower lip brushes against yours for a millisecond. When you were sure he was about to kiss you, he shoves a hand at your face and pushes you away with a little force, making you land on the couch on your back. 

You laugh but curse him out loud for his attack. Levi huffs, crossing his arms and looking away. 

“If you do that, I will ignore you for the rest of my fucking life. You’re dead to me.” He says it with so much conviction that you know he doesn’t mean a word of it. 

You sit up again, frowning then lightly slapping his shoulder. “That’s rude. What if I come back to see you, then?” 

He scoffs loudly, still looking away from you, and spots his box of cleaning supplies. Then, he says the second thing that comes into his mind, thinking that the first one he thought of would seem desperate and pathetic of him. 

He opens his mouth to speak and the words you hear from him causes an ever louder laugh out of you. He smiles before pushing you on your back again. This time, pulling himself on top of you and sealing your lips with a kiss. 

“I’d spray her with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on her stupid face, and kick her out.” 

Usually, the statement is so funny to them that it ends the conversation. Sometimes, he even gives them a demonstration where one of their unlucky friends gets to be on the receiving end. But this time, Erwin has a follow-up question that goes straight to Levi’s chest.

“And if she insists on staying? What will you do?” 

Levi went quiet. Hange and Erwin give a knowing sad look at each other that Levi doesn’t catch. They didn’t mean to push him this hard. But they had to know if he was ready. 

From just outside his door where Connie’s desk is placed, his secretary listens in as well. He heard about his boss’ ex. The whole office knows about it. His mysterious ex and the only woman Levi Ackerman loved. That was what everyone knew. But from spending too much time with his boss more than he wanted to, Connie had learned the following about his boss’ only relationship:

Her nickname is Greenie because she liked green tea. Levi prefers black tea but he accidentally told you he liked green tea too then ran with it for four months until Hanji revealed the truth accidentally.

The four of them knew each other for a long time. He doesn’t know if they met in high school or college. But in school, definitely.

After getting their undergraduate degree, she asked Levi to break up and broke his heart with words.

After the breakup, she disappeared from Paradis. Levi waited for her for a long time, broken and yearning. She didn’t come back. Now, all Levi has is bitterness in his body.

Those are what Connie gathered from his little detective skills to cope with having to work under the horribly mannered man. Then, he shares it with his best friend, Sasha, during his lunch break. 

He listens a little more, the email he was reading sitting idle for longer than it should. His boss still doesn’t answer. 

Inside, Erwin and Hange await their friend’s reply who is still lost in his own thoughts. Erwin decides to push him one last time. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“If she comes to you for closure, will you accept it? You’re over her, right? You can stay angry, that’s valid. She did you wrong. But will you at least hear her?” 

Levi keeps quiet but listens to Erwin. The word closure gives his stomach an unsettling feeling. It felt wrong to hear it. But it doesn’t matter. His friends were just bored and bluffing again. He can bluff too. 

“I don’t really care about her as much as you think I still do. When I see her, I’ll do what I said I would. Then it’s done. I don’t care what she does anymore.” 

It’s been five days since you coincidentally met Hange and Moblit. Before you parted ways, you exchanged numbers and your old friend has been messaging you nonstop. You appreciated it. Hange was always light-hearted and kind. You’re glad she found someone who appreciates her and takes care of her. So when she mentioned that there was a conflict with the invitations, you offered to fix it for her, knowing a thing or two about it. You handled project management a few times as an intern. 

There was once a time when you called her your best friend. You know that’s a title you no longer hold but either way, you were glad to talk to her again. Even if you know that in the very near future, you would have to face what it holds for you. Now that Hange is back in your life, it’s only a matter of time and you’d have to see your ex again. You lie awake at night thinking of what you’d do then. 

It was Saturday. That means no work for you after lunch, thankfully. You ground through your paper works and clients like a corporate machine all week, wanting to finish them before Saturday so you wouldn’t have to go overtime on a weekend. And after about nine cups of highly caffeinated green tea, you finally finished all your work for the week. Now free from the shackles of labor and capitalism, you slung your tote bag over your shoulder and headed out of your office and onto the elevator. 

Passing by Pixis’ office, you inform him you’re taking your leave which he cheerfully allowed, wishing you a happy weekend before you left his office. You bid him to have the same and left the building, anxious to see through the next events of the day. If this was a normal weekend, you’d be content with wasting away in bed as soon as you rushed home. 

You handled the invitations over the week, using your break time to oversee how it’s going with the printing service you trust for things like this. They generously accepted your request for a rush order, knowing who you are. 

The invitations were piled into a box on your coffee table by Friday, ready to be sent out to Hange’s guests. When you texted Hange that they were ready, she sent over her apartment’s address, telling you to personally meet her there on Saturday after work. She argues when you tell her you can just send it in the same day through an app, whining about how she wants to hang out with you. 

Hange, ever the persuasive and persistent person, got you to agree. That, and you still feel guilty for declining her invitation to her wedding. 

After you press the doorbell, you wait patiently with your left hand holding the small box of invitations. Her apartment was apparently a penthouse. An apartment in this building already costs an arm and a leg. Hange is smart and talented, one of her research must’ve been really successful. You also remembered that she was probably living with Moblit here. Ah, the wonders of having a partner in life—shared rent. Maybe you should get a roommate. 

When the door was taking too long to be answered, you shoot up a text for Hange. 

hey i’m here outside ur door ! :)) 

ok! just wAit a bit

It didn’t take Hange long to reply, easing your anxiety a little. When it takes more than a minute after she sends her text, you tilt your head in confusion. Are you at the correct address? Maybe you’re at the wrong unit. You were pretty sure you were on the right one, though. You rechecked it a few times. 

You wait a little bit more before ringing the doorbell again. You assume she’s probably grossed into something and can’t take the door at the moment. With a sigh, you wait a few more minutes, turning away from the door and deciding to scroll through your social media accounts that you barely use. 

A smile involuntarily plasters itself on your face when you see the posts of your coworkers from Trost. Warmth spreads to your chest as you see the office through the pictures, reminiscing your time there. It’s suddenly frightening, the realization that you’re alone in this huge city with no one to turn to. It’s a feeling you’re awfully familiar with, a state you’d rather not return to. 

When you feel yourself drift away to those thoughts, you pull yourself away immediately, figuring that the time you waited should be enough to press the doorbell again. 

But as you turn around to press it for the second time, the door swings open harshly in a swift motion, making you jump a little in surprise and fear as you hear an annoyed groan from a man that is most definitely not Hange coming with it. 

“For fuck’s sake. Did Hange give a woman my addre…”

The two of you froze. 

The raven-dark hair parted in the middle. The undercut. Those gray eyes and his beautiful piercing gaze. Those high cheekbones and soft cheeks. Those furrowed brows and scrunched forehead that was softly dissipated from his face when he sees you standing behind the door. Those delicate pink lips, now parted in awe and mirroring yours.

Neither of you can move like you were frozen in time. Every muscle in your body refused to move. Your brain stopped functioning and wasn't even able to conjure a coherent thought, much less a response. The only thing you could do was stare at the man you once called home. 

He still had dark under eyes but they were more prominent than before. You hate how it still suited him even if you hated how little he sleeps; they make his gaze heavier, willing you to get lost with him. A few strands of his fringe fall over his eyes. They were a little longer than what you were used to but it was still the same haircut you used to run your hand over when you were cuddling. It was a little unkempt. And even though his white shirt is a little crumpled, it still smoothly falls over his frame. It drapes from his defined shoulders to his waist until the hem of the shirt goes over the band of his gray sweatpants that hugged his legs loosely. 

He breaks the gaze spell when his eyes go over you, top to bottom. He stares at your shocked and devastated countenance, the casual but decent clothes that you changed into after work, the box in your hand, and the way your right foot has stepped further back than your left when he opened the door, ready to run away at the thought the man who opened the door was angry. 

You open your mouth to speak. You know you have to say something. Anything. Hi? Hello? How are you? Is this where Hange lives? Why the fuck do you still look so hot? 

But none of that comes out.

Why? 

Levi’s face hardens before you can speak, wiping off the bewildered eyes and replacing them with his infamous glare, silver eyes glistening with specks of anger. His mouth closes into a frown but not before scoffing at you. The scorned expression on his face shuts you right up for a second but you try and carry on.

This time, before you can speak, he slams the door shut in your face with an impact so loud it booms through your whole being enough to raise all the hair on your skin, leaving you standing there in his floor’s corridor appalled and deeply belittled.

Your startled brain is more confused than ever. As you decide to slowly process what happened and not even ten seconds after he harshly shuts his door, it swings open again, revealing the same man who not-so-gently shut it, with a hand still on the knob and the other holding something blue.

His arm outstretched towards you and you were faced with a nozzle of a familiar spray bottle. With a straight face, he sprays the fucking liquid right on your face. You immediately shut your eyes and mouth, leaning your face away from the spray. Although it’s far enough to not cover your face if you hadn’t moved, you still cringe when you feel the tiny droplets on your skin.

You lift one eye open, scared that he’s about to spray again. He puts the bottle down to his side, looking satisfied with his work. When you open both eyes, he shuts the door again, leaving you in the corridor with heightened emotions from the first time he did it paired with an itching aggravation. 

Was that a fucking Windex? 

Hold on. Windex? 

The door swings open again and he fully reveals himself without a hand on the knob like the two times before. This time he’s holding an orange cardboard box labeled Pure Baking Soda and reaches into it with his other hand. 

You shut your eyes close immediately, realizing what was happening when you remembered his words to you years ago. 

“I’d spray you with some fucking Windex, throw baking soda on your face, and kick you out.” 

The baking soda hits your face, making your nose involuntarily scrunch up because of the fistful of powder he threw at you. When you guess that he’s satisfied after successfully throwing you the promised baking soda, you blink your eyes open, finding him still standing there with a straight face. 

“Are you done?” you asked with a deadpan face, covered with baking soda.

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

[wolfvmin]

hello! if any of you are interested in aot, i have a blog dedicated to writings outside of bts fics! give a follow and check out my works if u want <333

ೃ⁀➷ welcome to levisolace ! ♡

↠ about azri - she/they, 21, poc (asian), and afab - bisexual ↠ about my writing - this blog is dedicated to my writing, mostly will be aot or levi x reader works. - all my works are 18+ only. minors, do not interact. - i will not write about non-con, incest, and the likes that are heavily triggering but please still be mindful of the tags i will put. - i'm a busy person. i work and have a heavy workload in uni so pls don't demand updates ! it's ok to ask about it but pls be nice ! :(

↠ links ! ↳ masterlist ↳ ao3 account ↳ taglist request form ↳ i also own: @wolfvmin (bts)

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

#azri’s shitposting #azri updates

[wolfvmin]

HI OMG I just read house of cards and it's so amazing aaa I really love how capable you wrote reader to be. I wanted to ask if u plan on writing more chishiya fics?? No pressure ofc ^^

Also I LOVE mc going unhinged on niragi sm ugh what a girlboss

HELLOOO Thank u so much for reading HOC !! I don’t have any plans for any new chishiya fics rn but I’ll def get to it if I come up with something !! Actually, I planned to write a drabble for the HoC couple after Borderlands so let’s see if I get to write that! <33

(Also, Niragi deserved it. Yes.)

#azks: house of cards #feedback: house of cards #fic talks: house of cards #thank u <333

[wolfvmin]

[wolfvmin]

Is it just me that takes so long to write ffs like idk I feel like I take so long to write and I only write when I get a random urge (which happens like once every few months) to do so then I suddenly write like 10k of words. I have like a lot of wip in my drafts rn that I don’t post bc idk if i’ll ever finish them. 😭 Although I’m not very good at it, I do enjoy writing fanfics and continue to do so.

#azri’s shitposting #ignore me #a certain app is down #so im alone with my thoughts #anw i feel like i should post something soon

[wolfvmin]

PLEASEEEE GIVE US SOMETHING WITH CHISHIYA AGAIN😭😭😭 i couldnt get enough of your work😔😔🙆🏻‍♀️🙆🏻‍♀️

let’s see if i can come up with something short! you can send me requests and i’ll try my best if i have the time. 🫶🫶

#anon azks #chishiya imagine #chishiya x reader #aib x reader #chishiya x you

[wolfvmin]

just saw like three yoongi concert pics in a row that made me feel like that part in finding nemo when they’re trying to save him from the tank filtration system and they shove the rock into the blades. but im the rock and they missed and i just got rattled around for like ten minutes

#this description will go down in history #u’re so real

[wolfvmin]

spideykoo 🕷️💜

#omg #i might've been plotting a spideykoo au #this is perfect

[wolfvmin]

they’re always 7!  cr. jung-koook

[wolfvmin]

watching him eat gives me such baby energy🥺

[wolfvmin]

thank you for adding glimpse of us! <333

divorce / falling out fic recs

this is a mix of divorce and breakup fics since not all couples are married. fics where main character and member almost breakup. this is the main plot, regardless of the reason why they’re divorcing/breaking up. all fics are finished unless noted otherwise.

✨ holy grail

yoongi

after the honeymoon fades by tadhana (AO3) ✨

cut me open by @hayjeon  ✨

divorce by @xjamlessparkx

glimpse of us by @wolfvmin ✨️

jimin

faded love by @jamaisjoons ✨

taehyung

jungkook

second chances by @parkhabits

#swga-ficrecs #feedback: glimpse of us #bts divorce fic recs