#I DID HAVE A LOVELY BDAY YES
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wu-wakfu-undertale · 9 days ago
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Re-watching wakfu for the first time in years and s1 Yugo was so silly???
dude discovered he could make portals at will and his first thought after actually acknowledging it is "i can do so many cool pranks with this"
#he was just a kid..... guys he was just a kid....#HE WAS SO SILLY#also the fact that after eva told him they used to call amalia princess gobball he just laughs at it ☠️#was he 12? i think he was in s1#why dont they ever celebrate characters bdays tho#thinking over it now there was little to no chill time for these guys#sure there was a good amount of non plot stuff to get to know the characters but like#idk? ummm like in the first ova they gave them some chill time and i wish they had done that more#s4 was an amalgamation of “FUCK NOT AGAIN JFC”#OH ACTUALLY#there was (1) episode with chill time and i loved it#despite having gone thru alot of effort to be like look!!! chibi and grougal!!! theyre bros!!! yugo spent like. 5 minutes of screentime#with them. like actually being their brother.#and like it was kinda funny because imagine like the world sorta blowing up a little and then ur child comes back just to say#'dad im rlly fucking upset. ive been to the house of the gods btw. and i met my mom.'#alibert mustve been so fkn confused hdhdbd#then again. its like. average shit for his son#alibert went from gay dad with his lil guy from a species he does not know of who basically works a farm inn to like#a literal demigod. he def has made some enemies#i remember the most abt yugo bec the hyperfix was strongest on him#current thoughts on the others in the brotherhood:#tristepin: yugos nickname did not translate well into en lmao. also my guy pls stop harrassing women?? he gets an arc ik but like. my guy.#yes specifically s1 them#amalia: i mean. she does in fact act like a spoiled 13 yr old. but like. girl they did u kinda dirty.#eva: they also did you kinda dirty. love that your the only one just sick of everyones logic defying shit.#ruel: yk what. no notes. that is the most realistic old man ive ever seen. hes hilarious#az: this mf gets his ass in trouble every five seconds. u can tell he grew up with yugo. also according to s4 he gets bitches so XD#wu's rewatch notes#thats what im calling this#wakfu
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dipplinduo · 7 months ago
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Fun fact about me: April 18th is my birthday! :)
And part of what I wanted to do to celebrate this year was to give back. Introducing * ~ a dipplinshipping birthday oneshot ~ * :
Rating: T
Summary:
Today was Kieran's birthday, but it was the last thing that mattered to him. In fact, he vowed it would never matter to him again. Instead, he would focus on things that would keep him strong: his battling, his strategizing, and his crown as the Blueberry Champion. His sister and the Elite Four won't stop asking him random questions, though, and if anyone brings up Juliana any more than they already have since she arrived as an exchange student, he's seriously going to lose it. But...why can't he stop thinking about her? And why is everyone acting so suspicious?!
A bittersweet birthday celebration fic for anyone who's had complicated feelings about their birthday. <3
Take this as a thank you to all of those who have followed my work and/or my Tumblr blog. I wouldn't have imagined having the support of this wonderful community on my last birthday, and I can't even begin to describe how encouraged and inspired I have felt to write since finding you guys. I have never written this much for this long, consistently, and your constant feedback and comments seriously brighten my day more than Juliana brightens up Kieran, LOL. Hope you enjoy this! <333
(And yeah, this fic is the "event based idea" that this poll was about. I thought it was so funny that some of you thought it was gonna be some devastating angst LMAOOOO. That's for after TTPD releases, tysm for the bday gift Taylor.)
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primordial0riginator · 5 months ago
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I need to play more Hades <- girl who spent all of last night playing Hades
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confused-spood · 3 months ago
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Where else am I gonna rant if not to a group of random strangers that barely know me, right? So ofc I'm gonna rant here cuz these people have no idea who tf I am.
....turns out I have no words to explain how I'm feeling right now so I offer this emoji instead: 😔
#so i went to this 18th birthday aka debut of my friend and tbh its the first debut ive ever been to and i was rly looking forward to it#plan was to enjoy with my friends and all and i was also planning to get some ideas for my own debut whoch is two weeks after hers#tbh my debut is the bday that ive been looking forward to for basically my whole life cuz the other important ages i did absolutely nothing#for my first bday i was literally in the hospital so nothing there. in my seventh bday i cant even remember what happened. we went swimming?#so the 18th is what i always dreamt of. ive already told my moms this a couple hundred times and ive already thought out how i want it to go#then at the party i observed everything and i realized a lot of things. firstly that shit is expensive. while we used to have the money#no we dont and thats all just in the past now. second thing which i find the most disturbing is the amount of people#the debutante invites the special people in their life and while yes i do have those i dont think they can even reach the proper number#and also i rly cant see myself in that position yknow? being the center of atteaction with people telling you nice stuff abt how they like u#so thats made me quite sad that the bday ive always wanted is never gonna be mine. my biggest TOTGA...#at this point i just wanna spend my whole 18th wallowing in self pity and sadness. while i know my friends love me i dont rly think they#love me to the point of throwing me a lil party of our own like we did earlier this year to ine of our friends. im the spare friend i guess#and plus when i got home my paretns arent even talking to me or looking my way if not scolding me or getting mad at me#well IM SORRY i also didnt want to get stuck in the fckin road for A WHOLE HOUR while waiting for a ride home#and IM SORRY that im just wearing jeans to a debut. this is my frist fucking time going to a debut so how tf would i know???#plus a lot of people were just wearing casual so wtf 😒#all in all im sad and i want to go die
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leviiackrman · 2 years ago
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“I really just want to hold you all so tight and make sure nothing bad happens to any of you ever again...”
more edits || character page || x.x
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minnichan · 1 year ago
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after AO3 was online again I decided to finally sort through my bookmarks and download almost everything I've read this year so far
of course I also had to list them in a spreadsheet because I was curious about the amount of words I've read
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including July which I haven't added up the total yet (only halfway through the month) I'm at 220 fics and 1.8 kk words?? a third of that wordcount in march alone (I read through most of tehfanglyfish's guardian works in march amounting to 200k) despite the longest fic I read that month being 40k words max.
this year so far it's all been guardian or weilan derivatives or dmbj or guardian rpf except for one single guardian/tgcf crossover and one single hq!! kagehina camboy fic lmao
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lilgynt · 8 months ago
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birthdays haven’t been too bad the last few years but with picking my dad up from rehab last year i’ve been getting antsy about it again and my work is gonna leave balloons and a note on my desk and i do work that day and i thought i had the saving grace of my brother doing a thing with me the DAY after but due to work things were now doin it on the day and it’s just looming closer and closer 😰
#personal#you have like 5 bad birthdays in a row and suddenly have an actual fear of ur bday#again it didn’t happen for a few years so i was fine but dad thing now is scared again 🙄#anyway i would have said no to the work thing but i wanted to be normal and encourage good will between my coworkers#i mean on my 45 day review perfect notes but my supervisor had to specify leadership when talking about communication bc i DONT be#talking to my coworkers#which totally fine doesn’t effect my work at all but.#idk i didn’t want to be like no when i already don’t talk to people#but did start a convo today!!!#i’m not bad at talking with people or even strangers i’m not even super shy i’m just bad at being a person#anyway so said yes even tho it does make me antsy thinking about#and i hate working on my birthday bc it feels like.#any event on my bday freaks me out or at least used to and does again#like ideal birthday stay home in bed and survive just don’t want to encourage chance or take any risks#i just want to stay still until it’s over and everyone’s okay#but now i’m working and people are gonna say happy birthday and there will be balloons and a note#and my brothers taking me out which yay love him love solo time gonna ask for sushi#but i’m also scared like what if something happens to him?#but it’s silly to live in fear and he’s only here for like a day#and even if my dad came home i also got my first birthday surprise with my friends lying#and saying they needed art supplies and gave me a cake and hannibal stuff and it was so sweet i cried :)))
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ilostyou · 2 years ago
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9? 💗
9. best month this year - probably july?? thinking back on it i was super busy doing a bunch of fun things with people i love but i also had time to myself which i really enjoyed too :)
end of year asks!
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aroaceofthesea · 10 months ago
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I was in a 18 bday party today and we didnt have a gift for the bday girl💀💀
#luckily we made a pretty good last minute save#im usually the kind of person to sit back and say yes to whatever ppl are saying to get for the persons bday#the problem is that this time there wasnt one big present and every group did their thing#and the four of our group were the same as me so we literally didnt even think of a gift until we were there💀💀#luckily we know her rlly well (weve been friends since like 3) so we decided to get her a vale for puenting#<-sorry if the last sentence is illegible to you im too lazy to think how to say it in english#and we looked pretty cool and she was rlly happy with the gift so i take that as a win#it was a 25 ppl dinner and we only talked the 4 of us lolll (and with the bday girl obv)#but i had fuun i got to see sides of a couple of them that i had never rlly seen before#bc like the bday girl me and another weve known each other since forever we were bffs at school etc#the other two are from music and i n music theres a group that are kinda intimidating so most ppl outside that group arent rlly completely#themselves at music tho you get to see them after music when we stay talking or on the walk home etc#but theres not as much time so it was nice to get to know better the other two😋😋#also im rlly happy bc the bday girl and the other one aftr years of barely talking even tho we saw each other every week it feels like#weve been reconnecting lately (we stopped being good friends bc life not any argument or anything) and i love it#like i know it will never be like it used to be in school when we were super close but its nice to have them as friends again#looking back on it our relationship was never very healthy (in any direction tbh) but it was nice while it lasted#i wouldnt want to go back to what we had but i would like to build a new and healthier relationship with them and its finally happening :)#ok that was a long rant lol#mine#life
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astrxealis · 1 year ago
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went out w friends today super duper fun i'm really happy but anyway just on here to say it's my break now so i'll be a bit more active i hope, it's my bday soon too, and i got asked my gender today which was p cool 😙🥺💗✨
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i miss it here but real life has been so fun again that i'm just. really happy JEGQKDJS#LOVE ALL MY FRIENDS SM u guys here and those irl and elsewhere online and yes <333#it's crazy tbh i went to a mall today w my friends in class as a yk gala but also in advance for my bday ... they r all so nice i love them#they kept hyping me up and idk it's a small thing but i love how observant they r SNIFFS maybe i'm just not used to it all so it means a lot#but either way it means so much fr. AND THEN OK the weekend after this one i'm watching a movie w my other grp of friends from arti's class#hehe 2nd time hanging out w em but we'll be more complete this time around <3 !!! and thennn at school i hang out w a variety of friends at#diff times and then online i've been connecting in diff ways w my closest friends online too and even randomly here yk and then yeah it all#just makes me vv happy that for the first time in... what. 6 years. i've been truly myself w interacting w others#BCS YES i am shy introverted quiet BUT ALSO the complete opposite but in a nice way. best of both worlds fr.#idk IEHSJDJS JUST REALLY HAPPY I'M 'BACK' to who i kind of rlly am but either way i am Me#sniffs..... okay but i'm not gna get emotional rn LOL#it's not rlly break yet until sat tbh which is my bday :P we're just staying home for the rest of the week but there's still school#i was worried at 1st i rmbr i wouldn't like my class but i had my thoughts and ideas which were good#and BOOM they actually did come true. it's amazing. oh my god.#also bad moments have come n gone but i've been dealing w them healthily and generally always trying to be as best as i can be healthily#DAMN. i'm thriving. but even if things go sour i know it'll go through and yeah. amazing#so tldr touching grass is rlly good and loving urself lmfao#the thing is i admittedly have always loved myself so. good for me! genuinely i have always and knew for a very long know i always will love#myself :] rlly nice to have that stability but ig it stems too from a very ahaha childhood WHWHJD i've fastforwarded growing up mentally#it's p sad but ig i wouldn't have it any other way since who i am is who i am. so. yeah.#YEEHAW OKAY GN !!! i shut up now hehehe#i miss writing... ye gods
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kithtaehyung · 1 month ago
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minted: two (explicit) | myg
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title: minted: two (explicit) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: one | masterlist rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , action ; haegeum au , gang au summary: after a whirlwind of a detour, you have second and third thoughts about the guy you saved. who even is this man? and what the hell is in that bag? note: holy shit, y’all. thank you so much for the love on this series already! it’s been a minute since we started a new series here, so nerves were firing on all cylinders. but you all showed out and gave me enormous relief and motivation to keep going, so thank you! note 2: as always, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, trauma/pstd, poor reader :(((, but also YES READER???, tension to the max, inner turmoil, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, yoongi visuals in this one areeee… a ha ha, did i mention tension?, tense situations, crass af yoongi lol, reader is also a baddie but who is shocked, slow burnnnn drop date: september 30th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 9.8k help me @ god
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There’s something to be said about the human gut. 
Not for being the source of multiple health aspects, nor the way it’s connected to the brain. 
But, other than when violence tears it to shreds, it can be quite the defense mechanism. Just like yours churns and churns with each mechanical click of the elevator shaft.
Who is this person next to you? 
Who exactly did you decide to follow upstairs hours ago, killing your daily life to save and join on the run? 
You don’t know if you release your hand or if Yoongi lets it fall, but you take this unlinking to create space. As you slide your gaze toward your companion, he merely shifts his weight and finds interest in increasing, beeping numbers.
How can someone’s profile be so troublingly handsome? You’d be able to think more clearly if he wasn’t both attractive and dangerous. Or if you simply weren’t on the verge of collapse.
Frankly, if you didn’t just murder a man you’d pass out as soon as you took too long to blink. 
To keep yourself alert—and to hopefully gather some much needed intel—you suddenly question aloud, “Where are we?”
No answer.
Alright.
“That driver called you Agust,” you recap on a second go. “What was that about?”
All Yoongi does is stare at his reflection in opulent, dim mirrored walls. Or whatever else he’s doing besides talking. 
Okay. Well.
You can face forward, too. 
“Those guys after us,” you try a third time, because who are you to give up now even if he radiates annoyance. “They didn’t look like Crane.”
“Doesn’t mean they weren’t.”
Your neck almost snaps when you turn. “Are you kidding me?”
As you watch Yoongi scorn the ceiling again, you can’t believe he doesn’t agree. 
Mm. Does he?
From the flex of his jaw, you have to assume you’re right to some degree. Because it looks like he’s very, very bothered by the people that chased you down. 
If those weren’t any of the high-powers but had equal resources and numbers…
What the hell were they? Where did they even come from?
Geez, it’s freezing. Is a drop in temperature the best barrier to you making sense of things? You can’t even appreciate the way Yoongi’s veins protrude with every adjustment he makes to that mysterious duffle bag.
Lies. You absolutely can. But there’s no way in hell you’re ever complimenting that. Or anything about him anymore because he clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you! 
Why did he even hold your hand? Was that just a ploy, too? 
But that taxi drive…
Yoongi looks down before lightly scuffing his shoe, and both of you fall silent as you finally give up with a huff. 
Massively dehydrated. Sore. Still covered in a myriad of unmentionables and now being ignored by the guy you saved. 
All you wanna do is go home, and you don’t even know where that is. 
How far did you travel? What district is this? You’ve never heard of a grey zone, but they seem fairly peaceful even at night. Neutral enough for you to consider relocating even if it meant sleeping on the street.
That brings up another question. “If we’re in a grey zone, how did you know—”
A ding interrupts your last thought, and you look to see where you ended up.
But the elevator doesn’t say a number. Only letters? What kinda floor did you stop on? 
One thing’s for sure, though. Whatever room you end up getting, if there’s only one bed you’re hogging it or taking the…
Floor…
There are many things that have shocked you in your lifetime. Many things just from today that had your head positively and forever reeling. 
But when the elevator doors slide open, you can’t even fathom what the fuck you’re dealing with. 
And in this second, more than ever, you understand how ludicrously out of your element you really are. 
“Holy shit,” you blurt, barely hearing the huff at your side.
Don’t elevators usually open up to hallways? Why are you walking into an entire living space? Is this a real place people choose to sleep in for a night? A whole floor?
Forget a whole floor, it’s a whole other place.
You slowly survey everything, wondering how much this has to be because you have never seen a living space so big. Or pretty. Or anything like this.
The ceilings vault and the furniture looks nothing like you’ve ever seen. Everything looks pristine. Clean. Is that a whole kitchen?
How are there living arrangements this big? This one place is bigger than your entire apartment level back home. 
And here you are: speechless, virtually homeless, and dragging your filth onto white marble floors. 
Perfect.
“What.” 
You turn at the scrape of Yoongi’s voice, wondering why now is when he finally chooses to acknowledge you. Head pounding, you ask outright, “Who… Who even are you? What is this place?”
He levels your stare before walking towards a long couch, dumping the duffle and raking his hair back in minted waves. “There’s a shower in every bedroom. Take your pick.” 
…Is that really his only response?
“That’s not what I asked,” you fire back, wondering what the hell his problem is so you can add more out of spite.
“But it’s what you need.”
“Say what now?” 
The fucking nerve? Even though you obviously, desperately need one, hearing him mention it makes you wanna re-use the chopsticks in your pocket. 
But Yoongi simply waves you off, grabbing a remote and flicking on a television so wide you would struggle to reach both ends. 
This is all too much. 
“You know what I need? To go home,” you huff out, leaving fire in your determined trek to the elevator. “Have a nice life, Yoongi. Or Agust. Whoever the fuck you are.” 
You get to the door and run into a dirt-slicked forearm. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.”
“You serious?”
“Yes, I am. So move.”
Yoongi pauses, jaw working overtime before he steps aside—wait he’s gonna let you go that easily? 
…Oh.
That was certainly not what you expected, but what else would you even think? This isn’t one of those stories that ends perfectly after trials and tribulations. Yoongi has proven more than once—in mere hours—that he’s no regular civilian. 
But despite that, you blink before freezing at a terrible realization. 
No matter how you slice it, you’re much better off with him right now than you are by yourself. Even if he is a secretive criminal with a smoking gun. 
He did keep you alive that whole chase.
But there’s the smallest, tiniest chance that you aren’t quite safe with him, either. You don’t even know who this man is anymore—maybe you never did.
So in a quick decision, you skim his side to slap the elevator button, chucking daggers at his brows until he leaves you to wait alone.
Good. You don’t need this. You can find your way back to your city block somehow and live the life you’ve chosen to lead again. 
Yes. You can do all of that by yourself. The chase is done. 
And so is your story with the man that will never buy your tangerines again. 
Grabbing your sleeve, a second fact stings your fingers. A jacket woven in Dragon teal. 
Shit. You need to ditch this, too. Either right now, or before you get the hell out of this grey zone because if you don’t, this is the biggest target you could ever have on your back. 
No good. No good no good you didn’t plan any of this well at all. Fucking pride blinding you to everything else logical. Is this how your story ends? Because of regret and resistance? 
You wait for the sliding doors, about to leave the biggest room you’ll ever see to occupy a box. How poetic. 
Your heart pounds as you close your eyes. Yoongi just cut you loose; it’s obvious he doesn’t care so why should you? No going back now. You’ll figure it out. The doors are finally opening. 
And someone’s inside?
Wait.
Your brain both whirrs and skids to a halt at the sight of the staff member occupying the elevator. When they give you a look, you find your hand drifting towards your back pocket.
Fucking hell, relax. You should be safe with a staff member, right? They wouldn’t be out to kill you. This is just your adrenaline on its haunches. 
However, one foot in the elevator and your senses go haywire. 
Because you can’t do this alone. You aren’t nearly as prepared to brave this foreign space as you need to be. With red in your hands and Dragon on your back? Absolutely not. 
You bow to the hotel staff before you face forward into the expanse. 
And as the doors start to close, you see Yoongi’s stare over his shoulder, storming with emotions you can’t name.
Yeah, you fucked up.
Fuck. 
Fuck you actually made a big mistake go back don’t let the elevator close shit—
As you lunge for the door, you get your arm through to block it from closing, turning to the employee inside and seeing their expression change. 
What was that about?
“Sorry,” you blurt to their pressed and polished grey uniform. “I forgot something inside.”
“I can wait, Miss,” they immediately offer, to which you politely and cautiously decline. 
“No need.” When you step out of the elevator, something happens that you think about hours and hours later. “I’ll come down when I’m ready, thank you.”
You can suddenly breathe again. Why was it so stuffy in there?
The worker bows stiff. “As you wish.” 
Without pause, you nod, waiting until the doors close to face someone turned away.
Ugh. It’s like Yoongi knew you weren’t gonna leave. Either that, or he really didn’t give a crap about what you did at all.
Either way, fuck this guy and fuck your indecisive ass!
In full aggravation, you march through the entrance before grating out, “You’re lucky I—”
“Shower.”
“What?”
“The blood,” he calmly breathes. “If you’re gonna hit the streets, wash it out.” 
“It isn’t mine.”
“I know.”
Your mouth snaps shut. 
Fuck. Yoongi’s right. 
“Okay. Well,” you scoff, “Good point but how can I trust you to not do anything.” 
When he tilts his head with a bored, unamused, borderline ticked off expression, you almost scoff before he drawls, 
“Not interested.” 
Oh. He’s… 
Oh. 
But the taxi and the hand-holding and the the the kiss what the hell? Was your liplock not up to this Dragon’s standards? Why are you questioning something so trivial? 
The nerve. You plunge your shoulders in exasperation, hating how you chose to put yourself in another situation with this pain in the ass and he isn’t even… “I swear to—You know what? Good. Not interested, either.”
A lie. 
Scrambling, your stomach speaks the next sentence for you, “But there better be food when I come out cus you robbed me of lunch today. So do something about that.” 
Fucking hell you do not need his lips to quirk up so deliciously. That one look completely offsets what he just said and annoyingly tickles your core. 
Stop. Focus. You cannot entertain any of those thoughts so ignore him and find a bedroom. 
Opening the first door you can see, you continue your tirade, “And no more stealing my chopsticks.”
“Closet.”
Of course it’s a closet! Shutting it with force, you let out a high curse. “Who needs a closet here? Whatever, just—figure it out, I’m starving.”
“Yes, princess.”
You flick Yoongi off as you blaze down the hall, not even knowing nor caring if he sees or not. 
The next door works, and you shut him out before falling back onto its weight, so fraught with emotion that you can’t even register the appearance of the room. 
Today has aged you multiple years. So much has transpired ever since this afternoon that you can’t even think in straight nor curved lines. As soon as you remember something, another thought juts between. Why are you simultaneously thinking about dingy, stained floors while agonizing over Yoongi’s lips? Is there a place other than hell or heaven you can settle on? 
As soon as you’re physically and mentally patched, you are out of here. 
The plan is simple. Shower, eat, give this man a piece of your manic mind, then go home.
Although… It would be nice to at least know what’s in that duffle. If it’s something worth taking you could finesse a piece of the loot. 
Swallowing dry, you push yourself off the door and finally notice a flood of ambient light. 
At your side, you come across an expansive bathroom, eyeing the wall-to-wall entrance before taking in the center shower with disdain and awe.
The whole setup is lavish. 
Does the water just fall straight from the ceiling and into that large square tub? This looks nothing like your cramped, chipped one back home. There’s even lush plants lining the area and towels already folded nearby for use. 
Maybe you did get killed on the run and you’re in some type of dreamworld. 
Too bad you aren’t alone.
As you drag tired feet onto heated tile, you search for the shower knobs, realizing you have a whole panel to work with instead. 
Uhh. 
What. 
You quickly find that one button blows water like a hose straight from the top, scaring you so bad you jump. When you hastily try another, something whirrs in the floor that has your brows kissing—
“You good?”
Fuck!
You flinch and hit the wall, groaning when you see Yoongi lazily resting against one side of the bathroom entrance. Both of your voices echo in the extravagant interior.
“You ever knock?”
“No.”
“Shocker.”
He walks up the tiny steps, and you’re more than relieved you’re still wearing his jacket. When he gets closer, you turn and face the panel, “I can figure it out.”
“Move.”
You get slightly displaced as he gets close, resting a hand on the wall while bending to operate the buttons. As you inhale his musk, you respond to his second question instead of his first. “What?”
“Is this fine,” he repeats, checking the settings before turning to the shower area.
Oh. Wow. It’s a lot more than fine.
A circle of rain falls into a beautifully lighted tub, steam wafting through the glow and coating your skin. 
You’re so entranced that you are quite literally left speechless. Skirting around your present company, you gaze up, down, silently observing the plants sway with the shower air. 
Strangely, this whole bathroom makes everything you’ve seen today believable because of the sheer wonder of it all. It’s almost enough to make you forget what you’ve done. 
Almost. 
When you pause, you see Yoongi watching your face from beyond the rainfall. And he looks so handsome, even now, not doing a thing. 
Is it because he’s clearly roughed up but still so poised? Very unlike you in your banged up, dirty state? 
Huffing, you fold your arms a little too harshly—out of jealousy or whatever else, who is to say. “I’m good now,” you proclaim, keeping your walls high. “I can do the rest myself.” 
Again with that little slant. 
Ignore him ignore him. If Yoongi keeps doing that, you’re really gonna have to brave the outside world instead of dying by smirk. A tub has never been so interesting in your life. 
“Suit yourself.”
You look up again.
But he’s already left you alone.
Solely to undress and contemplate what the hell he implied by that.
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Why did you walk left today instead of right?
Under scorching rain in the middle of luxury, this is the question you repeat in your head. Watching all the burnt streams of your decision swirl, and swirl, and swirl. 
The blood will never wash out.
Does the price of saving a life have to be this high? It must be somewhat divine, being that in order to save, you took. If only there was another way to achieve that end goal. Though there’s no way to do it all over again to be sure.
Staring at four chopsticks on the ground, you try to assure yourself. You need to.
Because at least you succeeded. 
But will your price be more damning because of the one you saved? 
Rushing water mutes your hearing as it pours onto sore limbs. When you reach for the scrub for a third time, you make sure to really dig, scraping at every. Single. Inch. In a last attempt to cleanse yourself completely.
Knowing that even after the water runs clear, you still see nothing but red.
You chose left today.
If you had chosen right… 
Doesn’t matter. 
Your palm tingles.
Blood never really washes out.
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Holy fuck, you don’t have clothes to change into.
Wrapping yourself in plush material, you hastily pad around freezing floors as you think of a plan.
You can’t just ask for them. How would Yoongi even have any for you? The jacket was more than enough borrowing for today and you’re in a hotel room, not his place.
Thank the universe.  
But the matter is pretty urgent. Because you’d rather burn your belongings before putting them on again. Which leaves zero clothing and a thousand issues. Fuck. 
Dragging feet to the massive sliding doors, you steel your resolve. Hoist your shields back upright. 
Because there’s no choice. You’re just gonna have to dread another conversation with this man. An embarrassing, awkward, unprecedented shit why is he in the bedroom!
You flinch backward as you slam the door closed. Peeking out, you gawk, “What the hell are you—?”
Did Yoongi just pocket a phone?
The duffle rests at his feet. 
Wait. Did he stay in here while you showered? Thank god you had the foresight to slide all the doors shut because you definitely spent a lot of your time scrubbing like mad or standing completely still. 
No. Yoongi’s hair is wet, so he did shower at some point. And he’s donning a robe, which is precisely what made you slam the door shut. 
How can he look like royalty wearing that? The material is quite lush and silken, but still plain. It makes no fucking sense and you wanna rip it right off—
Gathering yourself, you rush out, “Why are you in here?”
“You took too long.”
“So? That doesn’t—”
“In my shower.”
Wait. What? “Oh.” 
You slide the door open a little more to check his claim. And now that you finally see the room, you can tell it’s clearly been used already, clothes and bottles scattered about. “You said pick one.” 
“I did.” Yoongi turns to drop something onto a dark comforter. “Figured you picked it on purpose.”
“No, I… I didn’t notice the room.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he says after a brief look your way. “Not sharing the bed, though.”
“No need,” you snip. “I’m leaving soon.” 
Motherfucker. Yoongi only regards his sheets with a smile that triggers your fight response. And you almost—almost—drop the towel. 
Speaking of. How are you even standing in his vicinity with only a single piece of cloth? Are you seriously that exhausted you didn’t even think twice about it?
Suddenly very, very aware of yourself, you squeak, “Umm.” He waits. “I don’t have any clothes.” 
“That’s what you get for kicking me out so quick.”
Your jaw hits the floor. “So what, I’m walking around with a towel? Are you out of your mind? If you think I’m some—”
“Fuck, relax,” he slowly groans to the ceiling. “I was gonna say there’s robes in the closet.” 
You snap your mouth closed so hard it jangles. “Then just say that!” And you slam the partition closed before fast walking to find them. 
Missing the way Yoongi huffs before staring hard at his bedroom door.
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On your second arrival into his room, your steps and demeanor are a lot calmer. 
Is it because he’s a lot calmer, too? Maybe. Is it also because you smell food, realizing he did exactly what you wanted? Maybe more so. 
Noticing a table situated near balcony doors, you blink before regarding Yoongi’s sitting form on one of the chairs outside. 
A man lounging while smoking in a robe should not be this alluring. And yet, that’s the only word you can think of to describe him.  
Throat drying and aching, you slowly walk over and take a seat, already ravenous enough to dive into broth head first. But you eye Yoongi while retrieving new chopsticks, scowling when all he does is flash teeth through the glass.
Do not engage do not engage do not engage. 
Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your— 
“You’re really mad about that, huh.”
You snap your head up to see him leaning on the doorway. “I was hungry.”
“There was a cup of them on your table.”
“So why didn’t you grab those instead!” 
Yoongi ticks his brows before peering into the night. And he stays like that for awhile, letting a breeze lift his damp locks. “Didn’t expect to see you there,” he admits. “Gotta say you threw me off.”
Nu uh. No more heart skips for today. “I didn’t expect to see you, either,” you too choose to be honest. “Thought I’d never see you again.”
“You were going to.”
As curious brows furrow, you break your utensils apart. “Figured something happened.” Guess you’re being honest about a lot of things. “Or you found another tangerine girl.” 
Yoongi holds his look before taking a drag, smoke spiraling around his words, “Why were you even over there? You’re a bit far from Crane.”
You blink at his deflection.
What was that about? What is that look for? 
Holding his gaze because you aren’t done challenging him, you calmly answer, “I was shopping.”
“Shopping.”
“Mmhmm.” 
Falling silent, he observes a little longer before flicking ash off his cigarette. 
And just like that, the conversation dies. 
It’s for the best anyways. If Yoongi kept prying, he was gonna get closer to the truth. And you wanna slip around that as much as possible. 
But he keeps standing in the doorway, inked arm bending as he breathes in smoke. Donned in a dark robe and topped in teal, he suits Dragon perfectly. Way too perfectly. 
Pretending not to care and severely failing, you focus on your noodles instead. 
Your noodles.
Your noodles. 
You’re not hungry anymore. 
Something horrid jams up your throat, and you run through your day in flashes. The restaurant. The food. Dragons. The chopsticks. The kill. The chase. Yoongi. The kill the kill the kill. 
Dirt and shouts and lifeless lips clog your hearing, and your grip loosens completely as your vision shakes and shakes why couldn’t Yoongi have gotten anything else why does it have to be—
A hand. 
A robed arm. 
Your new utensils come back into view. 
But when you face reality, you don’t see them put them back into your hand. You don’t even see them dug in your noodles and left there. 
Instead, you watch as Yoongi plants one palm on the table, slowly lifting strands from the bowl and staring right into your eyes, 
“Eat.” 
Words. Get them out. Something something communication. Key is communication. What the fuck is happening to your brain? 
“I can’t,” you finally croak out. “I’m not.. I’m not hungry.” 
“You are.” 
“Not anymore.” 
Nose scrunching, Yoongi suddenly drops the food and dumps himself on the chair nearest, stretching his leg and revealing a littering of scars. “Didn’t know you were fine with wasting food.” 
The icy descent of his tone freezes your bones.
“Thought you of all people would hate that.” 
“I—I’m not—It’s not that—”
“Then eat.” 
“I literally can’t—” 
“Water. Food. If you’re gonna waste all my shit, then leave.” 
“What?” 
Is he serious? You’re in the midst of post-traumatic shock and he can’t take the hint? You’re so appalled by this man that you can’t even think straight. 
“You heard me. Stop acting like you didn’t.” 
“Oh, I heard you,” you snap. “Just double-checking what the fuck you said.” 
“So you gonna leave or just sit there? If you’re staying I’ll just walk out the roo—”
“Don’t.” 
Both of you still at your words.
And you have to force your palms to unfurl on your quivering thighs. One knuckle. Another. Nails leave half-moons in your skin. 
Breath haphazard, you finally break. “Just,” you swallow, hard. “I’m not wasting it just give me a sec.” 
You don’t want to tell Yoongi why you want him to stay. Despite him being the most infuriating person you’ve ever met, it beats the alternative. And you don’t want the alternative. Truthfully, that’s another reason why you left the elevator earlier. 
Yoongi looks pissed as hell. 
But he hasn’t moved. 
And that’s enough to get you to pick up your chopsticks and try again. 
You stare. Stare. Stare. Mustering courage and inhaling all the aromas you indulged in just earlier today. 
Fuck, you wanna hurl. 
“You’re gonna have to get used to this.”
Your gaze snaps to his, brows and thoughts knitted in disbelief. “What?”
“This feeling.” Yoongi looks out the glass doors, hands resting on the arms of his chair. “The faster you do, the better.”
There’s no way he’s serious. Get used to it? What reason would you ever have for doing that? Caustic, you scoff, “Why, so I don’t waste more of your food?”
You’ve never seen someone laugh in a negative way. But he does before sliding his eyes over. “So when you have to do it again, you don’t lock the fuck up hours later.”
You shoot up from your chair, hellbent on oh fuck you stood up too fast. “You—”
Yoongi just watches as you grab the table for balance, wincing from the pangs in your head. Words grind through your teeth, unable to fully form beyond the light assaulting your brain.
“Like I said.”
Palms press against your forehead before you slump back into your chair. 
“It’s better in the long run.” 
Technically, he’s right. It’s better in the long run if you get used to this. 
But there’s no way you can do it again. Who does he think you are? Yoongi’s got to know that you aren’t planning on making this a daily habit. This isn’t you. You only killed to protect somebody. Killed to save the person telling you to basically get over it.
Fucking hell, this sucks.
Frustration and exhaustion sting the corners of your eyes. 
Eat. Build your strength and get the hell out of here. Deal with it deal with it deal with it.  
As you regrettably pick up your chopsticks, you don’t care if your tears season your noodles. And quite frankly, you don’t give a shit if Yoongi watches them fall, too. 
Because they’re liquid anger. Hot trails blazing down your face, hardening into sticky paths and dried rivers. 
“What were you looking for.” 
Your eyes slide up to regard him, his arms folded and brows low. Because of course he doesn’t care about your state, either. Of course he’d rather entertain his curiosity. “Nothing you need to know,” you mutter, banning him from knowing another truth. 
“Did you find it.” 
You swipe at both your eyes.
As spice coats your tongue, Yoongi keeps prying, “Something you needed to go all the way there for?” 
“Fuck off,” you dismiss, slurping and swallowing with ease. “I don’t have to answer you.” 
“You already are,” he responds, confident. “Now tell me. Is there one in particular you need?” 
Wait. You barely gave anything away, so how is Yoongi asking the right questions? There’s no way he actually knows what you were looking for. No way in hell.
This man is more dangerous than you thought. 
“Why do you even care,” is all you choose to say, more focused on your food now because above everything else, it’s quite fantastic. It somewhat reminds you of a past home, and you can’t help but escape to those distinct walls. “It’s irrelevant to you.”
“But I have what you want.” 
You take another bite before stilling, looking up to see Yoongi propping his head with roughed knuckles. “You’re lying,” you drawl to his smugness, trying to act as if he didn’t just figure you all the way out. Because he didn’t. There’s no way. “And I’m still leaving.”
“If you stay, I’ll show you.” 
When you leer over your soup, he simply stares back with no hint of emotion. 
And you’re so curious about what he means that you finish your whole bowl. 
When you push it forward, you understand exactly what Yoongi did. It worked perfectly, and you have to hand it to him even though he mangled your character minutes beforehand. “Thank you,” you offer some manners. “This was goo—”
The scrape of a chair cuts you off, and your sentence dies in midair as you watch your runaway partner vacate his seat. 
Good riddance.
He knows how to stay on your bad side, that’s for damn sure. 
But Yoongi simply heads back out to the balcony for another light. So you chalk up his swift exit to vices and not wanting to breathe your air. Or maybe he’s done with his fun and is already writing you off before you head out. 
Clearing your bowl from the table, you walk out of the bedroom and bring it to the large kitchen, noting with a scowl that it’s obnoxiously bigger than half your floorplan back home. 
Yearning pierces right through your chest. 
The elevator is right over there. 
You showered, you ate. You can leave as soon as you clean your dish.
Are you way too curious about what Yoongi’s gonna show you? Yes. But is that gonna stop you from getting out of here? No. 
Well. This robe is hugging your figure perfectly and feels way too comfortable to just use for an hour or so… Plus, if you ditched it now, Mister Morals will scorn you for wasting that away, too. 
How rude of him to assume that about you. Of course you aren’t wasteful. The only times you let things go are when you absolutely have to, like you should have back in that noodle shop instead of braving the back staircase. 
Scoffing to no one, you scrub your bowl in the sink, grunting explicatives and stabbing Yoongi with curses until you hear a distinct beep. 
Was that the elevator?
You cut the water off with a twist.
Cautiously, you make your way across the kitchen, peeking around the corner to appease your curiosity and spike your anxiety. 
A bellhop? Another grey uniform looking to and fro to survey the area. It’s the same person that sent a look of panic your way before you went up to the room. 
And your defense mechanism blares. 
But before you can hide behind the partition, their eyes lock onto yours. Arm outstretched, the staff is motioning for you to… join them? Why? 
You’re the one bunking with a gangster. Why does this person make you even more uncomfortable? This feeling is just like the one you had when you called the elevator the first time. Was your gut warning you then, too? 
Maybe it’s because you don’t like the staff thinking they can come in unannounced. Grey zone etiquette or not, you can’t see how this is ever appropriate. In fact, it poses so many safety concerns. How is this okay? 
Walking into the foyer, you rest a hand on a robed hip. “Can I help you?” 
“I’m the one trying to help you,” they whisper, harsh and with another swipe of their hand. “You have to get out while you can.” 
Wait. What do they mean while you can? “And why’s that?” 
Sputtering, the bellhop sticks one foot out the elevator while pleading and, for some reason, that pisses you all the way off. “There’s no time to—”
“Get. Your foot. Off my floor.” 
Is that fear in their eyes or surprise? “Oh, apologies. I didn’t realize you were… I thought—”
“Thought what?” Your arms fold, weight shifting to your other tired foot. “Speak up.” 
Frankly, you don’t know where this newfound energy is coming from. All you know is that there are certain things you still despise and this person is ticking all the boxes. 
“I thought you were taken, Miss. I’m here to save you.” 
Pausing, you grip your arms, feeling silk gather under your palms. 
There’s a lot you tolerate. Many things that a lot of people can’t. But someone assuming you’re the weak one that needs saving? There is no quicker way to lose your interest. 
Stepping towards the elevator, you unfurl your arms, robe swaying and billowing around your freshly showered legs. 
“Yes, that’s right. Come on, we can take you away.” 
Hand on the entrance, you lean forward. “You’re not taking me anywhere,” you command, finger pressing the button at your side. “And you aren’t coming back up here until I say so.” 
Slowly, the doors slide shut, your reflection two halves in the metal shine. 
Well. 
So much for leaving. 
You may spend more time here than you thought. 
With more thoughts swirling, you spin, heading back into the kitchen to pick up the same bowl you were washing. Hoping you and your gut made the right call. 
Yoongi’s a criminal and a madman. But he’s not… the worst. At least, not horrible enough to warrant someone coming up to steal you away.
Besides. Is Yoongi aware that staff can come and go as they please? He seems like the type of guy that would hate that. 
Staying vigilant seems to be a little more important now. 
It’s soon after, when you’re placing the dish somewhere to dry, that you hear noise in the living room beyond the countertop. Looking up, you see someone much more familiar enter the space. 
Hmm. Whatever’s in that duffle must be worth millions for Yoongi to lug it around everywhere. 
As he dumps it next to the couch again, you don’t choose to ask about it just yet. Only because you want to ease into it later when you’re both not at each other’s throats. And while you’re not reeling from another strange encounter at the elevator. 
So you go with a safer question instead, choosing not mention what just happened. “Is this whole floor… your place?”
Yoongi looks up. “Only when I need it to be.”
Interesting. “Does anyone else know about it—”
“Do you always ask this many questions?”
You blink. “I mean. I don’t get by selling fruit cus I’m quiet.”
“You’re quiet with me.”
“And even then I get you to talk.”
Yoongi frowns slightly before moving away, more towards the sliding door leading out to another outdoor area. 
God, this place is obnoxiously huge. There’s still a whole other half you haven’t seen yet. 
When you peer out, you watch as he leans against the railing, seeming to look both up at the building and down at the streets below. 
Well. If you aren’t leaving anytime soon, may as well offer some sort of peace offering. Maybe the two of you just need to chill the fuck out. 
Rummaging through the kitchen, you manage to find some high quality beer in the fridge. On your walk to the sliding glass, you’re reminded of the time you gave him one before when he helped fix your cart. 
That was so long ago. 
You’re so lost in thought that you barely register Yoongi whipping a hand to his waist when you walk outside. But you catch the metal just in time. 
“It’s me!” you quickly alert before regressing back to annoyance, “Really…”
You’ve had way too much to deal with today. You don’t need a bullet in your chest to be another problem. 
Especially since his little maneuver showed a bit more skin than you meant to see.
Yoongi eyes you before his shoulders rest, and you stride forward to offer up the cold can in your palm. 
But you decide to hesitate while he goes to grab it, and you instead open it to have some. 
Ugh. High quality, your ass. This one is way too bitter. 
Your companion snorts as you make up an excuse, “I’ve had better.” 
“Do you even drink?” 
“Well, yeah,” you pout. Needing to prove it, you decide to keep the can. “Lemme try again.”
Somehow, this leads to you sharing the beer with him, tasting the mix of alcohol and smoke even after he tosses another cigarette off the ledge.
It’s not quite enough to forget, but it’s certainly helping. Observing the clouds so close and the city so far beneath your toes is extremely calming. It’s almost like you’re flying. 
“It’s different here,” you mention out of the blue.
“This sector?” 
“This high up.” Breathing in altitude, you sigh. “I’ve never been higher than my fourth story. It’s nice.” 
“It’s usually silent, too.” 
Your eyes slightly stab. “Whatever. You like having me around and just won’t admit it.” At this, Yoongi avoids direct contact. “Mmhmm. Don’t even try to hide it.” 
“You’re useful to me.” You freeze. “That’s why you’re here.” 
You shake your head. For someone deeming you useful, Yoongi’s pretty nonchalant about you dipping. Taking a tangy sip, you clarify, “But you don’t care if I leave? If someone comes to take me?”  
He takes the offered can. “Mm.” 
That answers that.
You should probably still tell him about what happened, though. His reaction could give more away than his words.
Instead, you drink in the night with your eyes. Knowing that you should know better about the company present. 
The more you converse with Yoongi, the more you pick up. And one of those sad facts is that he doesn’t give a shit about anything you do or don’t do. Because all he really cares about is what he needs. 
You can’t do anything to change him. Fix him. Whatever exists in fairytales. So you decide to take the night in stride. Not give a shit about him, either, per se. 
Your curiosity gets the better of you now. Not just about what he’s gonna show you, but about that duffle. You quite literally don’t have anything to lose anymore, so may as well go for the question you’ve been wanting to ask all day. 
“I was gonna ask for a cut of that,” you divulge with a head-tilt to the bag. “But figured you won’t even show me.” 
“Why not?” 
“Uhh.” You didn’t expect this. “You don’t like questions? You’re always secretive?” 
“Never talk to the streets, princess. They’ll snitch on everything you say.”  
“That’s deep,” you admit, taking a once full beer in your palm. “But I’m no snitch.”
“I know.” 
Your look carries a slight pang. 
“Come here.” Both of you walk inside as he plays with his lighter. When you round the couch, Yoongi dumps the bag right onto the cushions. “If you wanna see what’s in here, do it.” 
You stare before slowly walking forward and kneeling to unzip the bag. As your slide reveals the contents, you’re nervous about what you’ll see. 
But when it’s open, you freeze. 
It’s all…chil-don? Tons of money wrapped in sleek stacks with edges so… Crisp. New. 
Wait. 
These patterns. 
These are il-don? 
Holy fucking shit there’s no way these are real. This is currency seven generations old. The first ever of the established system. Worth more than anything in current circulation, especially in their pristine state. Forget being worth millions, these are next to priceless. 
You’ve never seen them like this.
“They’re some of the last in mint condition.” 
The shock value is so high you forgot you were alone. Slowly turning, your breath catches as you ask, “How did you know where to find these?” 
“Like I said,” he drones. “Streets talk.” 
You look at the bills before glancing back up. “Can I…?” 
Yoongi cocks a brow before angling his mouth. “Touch them? Do what you want, doll.” 
You blink at the name this time. Because him saying that with a fresh cig in his lips is making your stomach flutter. 
Picking up a fresh stack, you inspect the ancient pattern inlay with eyes wide, admiring how paper so old can have such detailed engravings. “These can’t be real.” 
“They are.” He shifts. “And most people never see one in their lifetime.”
You put the money back on the pile inside. Yes, these have got to be worth a fortune. But there’s nothing else in the bag? No drugs, no lethal substances, anything? “Wait, so. This is it?” 
Yoongi fully laughs before flicking his lighter again. “You want something else?” 
“No, I—” You back away. “There’s really nothing else in there?” 
Coolly, he lights up before taking the initial drag. “Nah.” 
Smoke spirals around you. “I dunno what I expected but it wasn’t that.”
Yoongi lets a wisp leave his mouth. You know it’s getting in your robe, but caring about the little things has now jumped out the window. “Whatever’s in that bag can feed half the city.” 
“What?” As you look, he walks over to what looks like a small section of a bar. “Is that why you stole it?”
“Stole it?” Yoongi grins and shakes his head. “Sure. That’s why we stole it.”
“We? Leave me out of this.”
“Too late.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
You step forward in anger, but you only get a sound out before Yoongi straightens, aura blazing,
“I—”
“Say I do leave you out of it. Nothing happened tonight, according to me.” He discards his fresh light in an ashtray, watching it die before sliding his gaze your way. “Doesn’t mean whoever we just fought will suddenly leave you alone.”
Shit. He has a point. You ran for so long and fought plenty of those guys.
Is this what he meant? Getting used to that feeling? Maybe your consequence is joining the cycle of the damned, forced to kill in order to protect. Both others and now yourself. 
“But I’m… Just a nobody. A civilian, I…”
Yoongi walks until he’s in front of you, hand cupping your chin and voice whispering mortifying allegations in your ear, 
“You took a body for a Dragon, love. You’re not a civilian anymore.”
Your arms shove him backward without pause, face distraught as you watch his smirk bounce with his shoulders. His cackle echoes mad through the room, pinging the floors and piercing through your robe. 
Truthfully, it doesn’t even feel like you’re wearing one. So naked and exposed in the open for this man to see. “You’re despicable.”
“That right?” His mouth sets as his lids lower. “And what about the one that killed and kept running?”
What.
“There was a police car at the restaurant,” Yoongi continues, a reminder so sharp it slices clean. “Yet you didn’t turn yourself in.”
Your feet sink into the rug beneath. “That’s not…” 
With measured steps, he stalks forward, a harbinger of horrific realizations that you don’t want to hear, “You didn’t have to keep running. Didn’t have to get in that taxi.”
Stepping back, you find the room so stuffy it’s hard to move. “You—”
“Could’ve taken another train.” 
“Stop.”
“Could’ve stayed in that elevator.”
What the fuck is happening right now? 
Yoongi’s close. Very much too close, and the energy he radiates sets your instincts ablaze.
This is the man you’ve been pining over this whole time? If you ever get back home, you have got to remind yourself to avoid him at all costs. There’s nothing good for you if you stay. Danger surrounds every inch of him, and there’s no telling when you’ll take collateral damage.
“But you didn’t,” he delivers the final blow. “And you’re still here.” 
Lifting your chin, Yoongi grins slow when you yank away. 
“I should’ve never saved you.” Gaze finally locked, you growl from within, letting a monster loose, 
“I should’ve left you for dead.” 
Wait. 
Stop. 
This isn’t you. This isn’t who you are. You’re a helper. A healer. Those words came out so strange that you’re questioning how they left your mouth so freely.
Did you really mean that? Or was this some feeble attempt to hurt him?
Yoongi doesn’t seem phased. But you clearly don’t know him so it’s not like—
Something heavy and dark as fuck is placed in your hand, and you snap your eyes to his in utmost disbelief.
“Go ahead then.”
Oh, this man is psychotic.
“Be my guest.”
No fucking way you’re gonna do it. “Stop—”
“If you regret it, why waste time—”
“Seriously, I’m not gonna—”
Yoongi forces your fingers flush against metal as he holds the gun to his forehead, both eyes piercing right into yours with no hesitation whatsoever. 
And it is frightening. 
All anger from before flees as fear and intensity rush into its place. Your brain fizzles and cracks as you try to wrestle out of his grip, and you feel burning at the corners of your eyes. “Stop!”
“Why.”
“I’m not gonna shoot you, the fuck!”
“You sure?”
“Yes!”
Mercifully, he lets go, pistol thrown as you’re tugged forward with a—
“What’s stopping you,” he grounds out, formidable presence all-consuming. “Tell me.” 
You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “You”—a shaky heave—“You are out of your fucking mind.”
When you struggle from his grip, Yoongi pulls you even closer. Reacting in a rush, you propel your knee up to wrap around his side and twist. 
But he proves just as quick, gripping the bare skin of your leg as you shove him down against the sofa. Grunting, you both curve with the furniture, Yoongi locked onto your knitted, conflicted brows.  
“You regret saving my life,” he simply repeats to your frustration. “I gave you the chance to fix that.” 
“Shut up—”
“But your will is weak.”
“I swear to—”
“Guess I was wrong.”
Who the hell does he think he is? This guy—Yoongi, Agust, whoever the fuck—has no right to play with you so casually. 
But something else is swirling inside your ribs. Because through his cutthroat words and actions, this man is somehow stirring the deepest waters of your soul. Ripples rumble and stretch into waves, tugging your toes in undercurrents of obsidian. Dark. Primal. Hazardous. All you. 
Is it from being subjected to such a heavy dose of his power? 
Or is it because—even if just for a moment—he’s handing all that power to you?
Quite literally, you’re the one on top.
And Yoongi holds your gaze, unfazed by the way your robe completely spread open during your tumble. Or the fact that you have nothing beneath that silk. 
He could easily take over. From the feel of his build beneath your hands and between your legs, you know he can. 
But he’s not. There’s no hesitation. He’s legitimately giving you the choice and reveals no ounce of remorse.
This revelation courses through your veins, pumping a new kind of life into your palms. You have a shot at a criminal with a bag of il-don waiting to be snatched. And you know you won’t take it. 
And that alone alters the chemistry of your brain.
With more fear of yourself than anything else, you shake out, “If I’m killing you, it’s gonna be entirely my choice.” 
He’s laughing? You’re instigating a threat and he’s enjoying it? God, you are teetering on the brink of madness and another emotion that won’t dare be acknowledged. 
Tugging Yoongi up a notch, you proclaim to the glint of his eyes, 
“And when I do, you’ll die exactly how I want.”
Yoongi’s lips slowly, dreadfully spread, teeth shining in the dim lamp lights that sharpen half his features. When he speaks, you shiver. Because it’s a mix of pride and fear, sprinkled with a hint of alarm,
“That’s my girl.” 
The room quiets, your bodies locked in a way that you’ll remember years from now. Breaths. Your bare chest hovering inches above his. If there were bystanders, they would no doubt get the wrong idea. Because if things were different, and if this man underneath you wasn’t who he was, you’d entertain another type of ferality and not stop until morning. 
To be fair. That same dark part of you would still do it. 
But this is about the righteous part of who you are. The one that abides by the rules. The one that fights to keep days boring, uneventful, the same. 
So you quell that monster pacing in your core. 
One more exhale leaves your lips before you let him drop, sliding off his silken, tone form to quietly readjust your robe. Turning away, you focus on the night skies, wondering if the people back home are sound asleep as you should be. 
“My will may seem weak. But I don’t care what you think of me.” 
Sound is crisp again as Yoongi rises to his feet. Around you, the air starts to lighten, cold slipping delicately into your skin. 
Slowly tying the wrap at your waist, your words float to the ground, “Because I know who I am. And no one can take that from me, not even you.” 
His presence fills the space at your back. But it’s muted. Less intimidating. Or maybe you’re just at your limit because you admit a little more than you intend, 
“This world has already tried enough.” 
Both of you come to another standstill, two black robes staining a room full of white. Even time itself gives you space, slowing and circling until you’re ready for it to flow straight again. 
As a cloud shadows the light of the moon, you feel knuckles caress your neck. And Yoongi’s never sounded so calm as he starts, “They’ll come after you.”
You slightly turn. 
“You still want to go back?”
A pause. A nod.
His knuckles continue to glide along your neck, slipping down your back before traveling the swoop of your shoulder. Everything in your body thrums, silently quaking because you have no idea where this is coming from and you can’t say you hate it. 
Quite the opposite. And that scares you more. 
“If you do, you’re dead to me.”
Of course. You’ve seen and know too much. There’s no reason for him to show up to your street now, especially if tangerines are all he’s looking for. He can always find them anywhere else. 
But, for some reason, this still stings. In a way that irks even your reasonable side. Is it because of his touch? No. That’s only making you nervous from the fact that you probably aren’t… as experienced as he is. The uneasiness is wholly from your own limitations. 
“I’ll survive without you,” you whisper resolute, chest squeezing when he replies,
“I know.” 
The same fingers get bolder, tracing down your arm before sliding along the wrap at your hip. 
And you freeze. 
Because the tension is palpable. The power is intoxicating. It’s a new type of anticipation and you are fighting yourself to not give in. Don’t let everything get to your head. Don’t let anyone in again. Don’t stray onto a path you can’t quite navigate. 
But fuck, you kinda want to. 
Rocks slide against exposed skin when he decides to speak again. And it makes you wish the two of you were extraordinarily normal. Or that you at least knew what the fuck to do here because the attraction you feel is not as one-sided as you presumed. 
“What made you stay.”
A breath you didn’t know you were holding huffs out, and you swallow with difficulty. “I just…” 
Get it together. Keep up your guard. It’s proving so hard, especially when his touches spark fires along your limbs. But you have to. 
And therein comes another lie. “I wanted to know what you stole.” Gulping down the truth, you harden your resolve. “That’s it.” 
With more restraint that you want, Yoongi bunches silk at your pelvis, hitching your robe and your breath all at once. When his other hand slowly holds your neck in place, you can’t help but flinch, and his low hum pours lava straight down your chest, 
“What a shame.”
Oh. Is this how it ends? Did your gut get it all wrong? 
He could end your life with a flick of his wrist. You know far too much. You’re not useful anymore. 
“Someone will take you back tomorrow,” Yoongi murmurs, proving every single theory wrong. “After that, you’re on your own.” 
And just like that, he releases you to stand alone. 
Oh. You’re going home. 
Good.
This is good, right?
Your heart beats overtime, almost drowning out your entire thought process. The thumps and pulses seem to cut every string of consciousness short. 
What was that? What was any of that? 
Never mind. Nothing happened and you can keep it that way, for the better. Yoongi is risk draped in beauty, and once you’re back home you can cut ties with anyone like him for good. You saved him; he spared you. It’s over. 
…But do you want it to be? 
Yes. 
Of course you do. 
Clouds let moonlight shine again. 
When you arrive at an answer, you turn to find that Yoongi’s already gone, duffle and all shut inside his room with a muted click.
A flip switches as you let exhaustion take over completely, falling onto cushions that still hold his scent. Inhaling, you drift into darkness, wondering how your final decision will affect the rest of your days.
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Whether awake or asleep, nightmares are real. 
Only this time, you aren’t quite sure if the blood and guts you’re seeing are yours or someone else’s. Can’t discern the limb on the ground from the limb on your torso. Screams echo and ping from all directions, a cacophony of death that has you scratching at mania to stay sane. 
Murderer. Murderer. A murderer that regrets who she saved. No, wait, that’s not true. You’d still do it again.
And you watch the same swing over and over. The same arc of finality. Those lifeless eyes. Closer. Closer. Sharper. Judging. 
You were wrong. Were you wrong? Running does nothing and doesn’t provide an answer. The ground under your toes gives out. 
How far are you straying? How low are you sinking? If you told your neighbors who you killed for, would they be upset or betrayed? 
They’d hate you. Their fingers aim straight. Their tongues fire bullets. 
They’ll hate you. Hate you. Hate you hate you hate you—
A room bursts into view as you jolt awake. Sounds snap silent, the hum of the air all you can hear as you rub your eyes. 
So much for sleeping. There’s no way you’ll be able to now.
Focus on something else. Anything else. The past cannot be undone, so live with the choices you made and deal with the faces that haunt your dreams. 
Staring into the dark, shapes and sharp edges slowly form, your vision sharpening with every passing second. Tiny pops and creaks tickle your eardrums, and Yoongi’s scent still lingers with your own. 
You don’t want to focus on him, but it’s better than what forced you awake.
A lot happened tonight. But also, nothing at all. Something is keeping you both together, tightening and squeezing the strings in your chest. But you don’t know if that’s from the adrenaline of today’s events, or from the pure shock of your unexpected reunion. 
There’s something else you haven’t considered until now. Despite his unorthodox and hellish methods, Yoongi did keep your head on straight. You showered. You ate. You drank. You inhaled fresh air. 
Your compass righted itself when you didn’t blow his brains out. 
The nothingness was all to your advantage. Was that all calculated, too? 
One part of you—the bright side of you—knows that it doesn’t matter. No matter how helpful he was tonight, distance is crucial. Stay away from people like him. They’re all too cunning to be kept close.
But if leaping that crevasse allows you to keep your mind off everything else? If you need to stop the bleeding, why not reach for a cure?
Your exhale shakes as your shoulders fall forward, self-deprecation destroying your brain because what the fuck are you thinking? This is nonsense. Madness. 
Maybe you’ve just been insane from the very start. 
Your breath quickens at the possibilities. The potential outcomes of what you’re about to do. 
This is the most solid decision you’ve made all night.
As your toes travel across plush, trek over marble, and arrive at their destination, the rest of your body quietly, nervously follows. 
Raising your hand, you listen for movement. When you find none, you softly knock and wait for what seems like an eternity. 
For nothing. 
All that worry for naught. Yoongi’s most likely fast asleep and not dreaming at all. 
Good. This is your sign to let it go completely. In the morning, you’re going back home. The nightmares will consume you and you’ll wake up everyday to brave the streets. Assassins will be on the hunt for revenge. You won’t be saved by the boy in teal. 
What a shame, indeed.
As you step to leave, you hear the door slowly swing.
And Yoongi emerges from behind, minted hair mussed over lowered lids and robe slipping down a tatted shoulder. 
Fuck everything. 
“I don’t regret what I did and I’d do it all again,” you admit with finality. To him, to yourself, to the ones you’ll disappoint back home. “And I refuse to get used to this feeling because it reminds me I’m still a good person.” 
Yoongi’s eyes don’t change as he stares. 
“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  
This is it.
The brink of no return.
Your soul dips into the dark.
“Please make me fucking forget.”
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a/n: once again, i cannot thank y'all enough for being patient and understanding as i go through life while working on this and all the other writing projects we have going on! it means the world, and even though there were some not-so-fun asks to get, the supporting and wonderful ones are what i will continue to focus on! so if you've ever left something sweet, thought provoking, encouraging, etc - thank you from the bottom of my heart! you're what keeps this writer going. a/n 2: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist
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sparklingchim · 2 months ago
Text
maybe in another universe; m |jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 6.2k
genre: idol!jungkook, angst, childhood friends, exes to lovers?, smut
rating: 18+
warnings: protected sex, making out, groping, fingering, jk is saur in love <3, oc is an overthinker, they're v needy, he loves watching her cum <3, giggly kisses, jk wants to hit it raw so bad 👉🏼👈🏼, one (1) boob squeeze i think, oc scratches his back 🤭
summary: jungkook is tipsy as he wanders the streets of seoul, and still, you're all he can think about.
a/n: it's bestie jk's bday!!! so here's a little fic n i swear i was gonna post smth fluffy but...here we are!!!!! sorry not sorry </3 love u
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
“I need you.”
“What?”
“I miss you so bad.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I love you. So much. It kinda hurts.”
“Jungkook.”
Silence. Except for the faint noises of cars passing by.
You hear a little sigh. “Missed hearing you say my name.”
Your fingers clasp tighter around your phone. “Why’d you call?” It’s 2 a. m., and the only reason you answered is because you were worried. This is the first time he’s called since the breakup.
“Just ‘cause,” he mumbles. You can hear the pout he’s speaking with. “We have a one week break from tour and I came back to Korea. Missed home and Mum, and you.”
“You’re in Busan, then?”
“Seoul.”
He’s here. So close.
You shake your head. Take a steady breath to calm your giddy heart. You shouldn’t care.
“Was at my parents’ for two...three days.” After a short pause, he continues, “Been wanting to talk to you all day long, but I didn’t have enough courage.”
“I mean...” You slump back against the couch, your head falling back. “There isn’t anything for us to talk about.”
“No?” he asks, confused. “I’ve got so much to say, though.”
“I meant, like, we shouldn’t be talking. At all. ‘Cause we’re – we’re done.” You thought you were. You thought you made it clear when you broke up with him.
“Haven’t you missed me at all?” He sounds both accusing and sad, and you think your heart breaks a little. “I think about you constantly,” Jungkook whispers, his confession carrying a soft hopelessness through the phone.
You sit up straight. “How much did you drink?”
“Hmm, not much,” he answers. “I’m not drunk!” he quickly adds. “Just needed some alcohol to have enough courage to call you.”
“You drank because of me?”
“You’ve never done this?”
“I’d like to say it wasn’t because of you.”
“So... you’ve been thinking about me too?” he asks tentatively.
You close your eyes. “Is this a conversation we should be having?”
Jungkook heaves a defeated sigh. With your eyes closed, you can almost picture him standing outside, the chill of the night air mixing with his feelings of loneliness. Maybe he’s pacing, or just staring into the distance, eyes weary with a faint trace of frustration mixed with vulnerability etched on his face.
“You can hang up if you want. I just hoped we could talk a bit. I’ve been – I’ve been feeling lonely and a little sad, and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he babbles. “I’m sorry if you don’t wanna talk.”
You wish you could be cruel – could be a cynic and just hang up. But you can’t. He is tipsy and emotional, and you still love him too much.
“No, it’s fine.” If only he knew how much you’ve been wanting to hear his voice again. “I didn’t expect a call like this tonight, that’s all,” you add, pulling your legs up to your chest. “Are you on your way home?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there soon.”
“You have the dorm all to yourself?”
“The dorm? Ah, yes, I was the only one to fly back to Korea. The others stayed in the US.”
You hug your knees with one arm.
“Why are you still up so late?” Jungkook asks, as if he isn’t the one roaming around, tipsy and a bit of a heartbroken mess, in the city in the middle of the night. He does all that and yet worries about you.
“I was just eating.” Your eyes drift to the remnants of food in front of you. “And watching a drama.” The big screen is on mute. You hurriedly searched for the remote to turn off the sound once you saw the caller’s name.
“With your mum?”
“No, she’s at the studio. I think she’s finishing up some songs,” you say. Your mum left sometime in the evening, saying she’d had a sudden spark of inspiration and needed to go to the company. You bet she won’t come home until 4 a.m. “I couldn’t sleep and was craving some tteokbokki, so...”
“From the restaurant at Gangnam?”
A soft, hesitant smile blossoms on your face. “They make it the most delicious.”
He mutters a wistful sound. “I haven’t had it in so long.”
Your fingertips gently tap against your knees in a slow rhythm. “You should definitely have it before you leave again.”
“With you?” Just two words and yet they’re filled with so much innocent hope.
Your fingers halt.
“Oh?”
“Would you not want to see me?”
“I’m not sure if we should.”
“But do you want to?” He’s met with silence from your side. “You were one of the reasons I really wanted to come back to Korea.”
“But what if I don’t want to meet up?”
“Then don’t open the door.”
“I don’t...What door?”
“Your door,” he answers conversationally.
You hurriedly scramble to your feet and walk to the door. “You’re here?” The screen on the intercom shows Jungkook, holding up his phone against his ear and patiently waiting.
“You watching me?” Jungkook teases, playfully cocking his head to the side as he stares directly into the camera.
“Oh.” You take shy step back. Blood rushes to your cheeks.
“Open the door for me? Please?”
You don’t think it’s a good idea to let Jungkook in. But his doe eyes. His pleading doe eyes. They do it for you.
You buzz him in and, while you wait for him, you try to calm your racing heart.
When the elevator doors open and Jungkook steps out, you’re struck by the sight of him after months apart. You take in every detail: his tousled hair, his tired but still striking eyes, the way the light catches the contours of his face. He looks so handsome, so achingly familiar. You’re drinking him in with your eyes, unable to believe he’s actually here.
“I thought you were heading to the dorm,” you say as Jungkook steps out of the elevator.
“I didn’t say that.” A pout graces his face.
He said he was heading home.
“I missed you,” Jungkook says, and suddenly you become awfully aware of the situation unfolding before you. You have to blink twice to make sure you’re not just picturing a hologram of Jungkook in your apartment. This time, he is real. Not a figment of your imagination.
“Me too,” you admit with a heavy heart.
A lopsided, sorrowful grin appears on his mouth. “Can’t bring yourself to say it back?”
“Jungkook, you-” You shake your head, sighing as your scramble for words. “You shouldn’t even be here.”
It’s the middle of the night, and upon answering a call from Jungkook, he stands right in front of you – just like in the dreams you secretly have at night when you’re feeling lonely again. It shouldn’t be this easy. It really shouldn’t be this easy for him to say these things and fall back into a natural pattern with you when you’ve been crying yourself to sleep at night, wishing your love for him would die.
And yet, here you are, with dangerous words at the tip of your tongue, barely resisting the intense urge of your heart to scream how much it has been wanting him back.
“But let’s not – let's not just stand here.” You point to the slippers next to him. “Take off your shoes and I’ll...I dunno, put on a movie?” You go back into the living room as Jungkook hangs up his coat and follows you.
“Oh, that looks delicious,” Jungkook exclaims when he spots the leftover tteokbokki on the coffee table.
“I can heat it up for you, if you want,” you offer. Judging by the way his tongue wets his bottom lip, it’s clear he’d appreciate that.
Jungkook trails behind you into the kitchen.
“So, watchu been up to?” He leans his forearms on the counter, watching you from across the island as you put the tteokbokki into the microwave.
He’s been in this kitchen countless times before. He’s made you tea when you were sick, prepared hot chocolate when you needed comfort, and knew exactly where to find the snack stash for movie nights. He’s even prepared breakfast for you and your mum on some mornings. But tonight, he can’t shake the feeling of being a stranger here. The memories of those moments feel distant, like a blurry movie he watched when he was too young to fully remember, leaving him with only a vague sense of familiarity.
“Just, you know, studying, working. The usual.” You turn to him, mimicking his position on the other side of the counter.
“So much on your plate that you couldn’t reply to my messages?”
His gaze is intense and shameless, and you look away.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to reply to messages sent by your ex.” You turn around, leaning your back against the counter. “What am I supposed to text back when you tell me that you miss me?”
“Hey, just last week I asked how you were doing. You could’ve replied to that one.” You can sense the sulkiness in his voice, mingled with a touch of light-heartedness, but you don’t turn to face him.
Jungkook closes the distance between you.
“You don’t want me in your life anymore? Like, at all?”
Your engulfed by his scent as he stands next to you, struggling to form a proper answer as you hesitantly peer into his face.
The microwave dings, and you breathe again.
“When was the last time you had this?” You place the plate in front of him and hand him the chopsticks.
“It’s been a few months. Before the tour started, I was dieting, so, maybe 5 months?” Jungkook doesn’t notice the roll of your eyes when he mentions dieting, his attention focused on the hot tteokbokki between his chopsticks. “Mhmmm.” He closes his eyes tightly, tipping his head back as he tastes the food on his tongue. “So good.”
“Feels good to have a bit of home again before you leave?”
Jungkook nods vigorously, his eyebrows scrunched up as he eats more.
You find yourself smiling, only realising it when Jungkook mirrors your grin. A giddy thrill and a soft ache twist together inside you like a secret exposed to the light. Unable to bear the eye contact, you look away, hiding your smile by biting your bottom lip.
You notice Jungkook offering you a piece of tteokbokki in your peripheral vision. “No, thanks. I’m really full. I had a lot.” You rub your belly.
“You always used to steal bites of mine, even when you were full.”
“I used to steal your dessert. Not dinner,” you correct him. “I can never have enough dessert.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “But that was when things were... different.”
Jungkook’s playful expression fades slightly. He chews slowly, contemplating your words. “Does it have to be that different?”
The delicate confession that hangs heavily in the air.
The warmth in your chest tightens, and you’re reminded again. Reminded of the reality you’ve both been trying to avoid – more so you than Jungkook.
“Maybe it does,” you reply, the small, almost imperceptible nod you give him almost. “Things change, people change.”
The weight of your words settles over both of you like a cold shadow.
Jungkook’s eyes search yours, as if trying to find a crack in the wall you’ve put up. “But what if some things don’t have to change? What if...some things are worth holding on to?”
So much longing and regret in his words, his eyes, his heart – he is blue everywhere.
“It’s not that simple, Jungkook.” The ache in your voice betrays the calm you’re trying to maintain. “We can’t just go back to how things were.”
He steps closer, and his familiar scent surrounds you again, making it so hard to act rationally when so many past memories swirl in your mind.
“I know we can’t go back. But I don’t want to lose you completely. Can’t we find a way to be something else? Something that works?”
The idea of keeping him in your life, even in a different way, tugs at you, but you know the danger in that. You know how easily the lines could blur again, how much harder it would be to protect your heart.
That reminds you, there are still pieces of Jungkook left in your room; t-shirts and sweatshirts scattered in your wardrobe.
Taking a deep breath, you push off the counter. “Before I forget, there are still some of your things in my bedroom.”
You catch the sudden confusion in Jungkook’s eyes, but you don’t let it deter you as you pad into your room.
“It’s just a few of your shirts. I’ve been meaning to give them back to you, but uh, I wasn’t sure how to approach you because I didn’t want to contact you, but anyways.” You grab the neatly folded pile of clothes from the back of your wardrobe. “Now you’re here, so.” You hold the pile out to him.
He regards his forgotten clothes with a sight raise of his brow. His hands don’t move to take them.
“They’re old anyway,” he says. “I don’t need them. Just throw them out.”
You hesitate, holding the pile tightly.
You won’t throw them out. He knows that too.
“Fine,” you shrug nonchalantly, storing his clothes back into your wardrobe. They sit there, a constant reminder that he still has a place in your life, even when he shouldn’t. Haunting every little corner that still belongs to him. But you’re just as guilty, allowing him to do so.
When you turn around again, you see the loaded expression on his face, and your immediate response is to ignore it – redirect his attention before he starts digging up old feelings, past memories, and forgotten promises that will only make you doubt the walls you’ve tried to put between you.
“I think you still have some tteokbokki left-”
“___.” Jungkook interrupts you, grabbing your hand. You feel the warmth of his skin, and you’re mortified and comforted at the same time. “I thought we would always speak comfortably with each other. No hiding, no walls – just the truth.”
“That was before the breakup,” you counter, barely able to hold his gaze. “There is no we anymore.”
“How can you say that when our whole lives have been intertwined? We can’t just pretend it all meant nothing, erase everything.”
“Being with me is an inconvenience for you, Jungkook.”
“Is that why you broke up?”
Ah, right. You never told him the real reason.
The night when you broke up with Jungkook was a bit chaotic.
You hadn’t planned on ending the relationship. Threads of worry had plagued you for some time, and you had been considering breaking up with him, but you never had the courage. You loved him, still do. And losing the one person you’ve trusted since childhood was terrifying.
But that night, while waiting for Jungkook at your favourite convenience store, you grew impatient. Waited for so long that you started eating ramyeon without him. As you sat by the window, gazing at the night sky, you decided that tonight you would break up.
Jungkook had always been busy, and you never minded it. Didn’t even mind it as you were eating ramyeon while pondering how to tell Jungkook. But Jungkook had so many things on his plate, so many worries, and you didn’t want to make his life more complicated by being his girlfriend. He tried so hard to always respond to your texts, tried to call at reasonable times instead of the middle of the night after practise, and promised to meet you at times other than when the sun had long fallen.
Jungkook needed to prioritise things that were more important to him.
And knowing his selfish tendencies, you needed to help him a little.
“Part of it, yeah,” you answer.
Jungkook doesn’t hesitate when he says, “You’re worth the inconvenience.”
You think he holds your hand a little tighter, but maybe you imagined it.
“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and that night, I – I didn’t know if I would ever feel okay again.”
Jungkook was so used to you giving in. Was so selfishly used to having you whenever he wanted, that once you finally pulled away, his world had lost its gravitational pull. Suddenly, he was left adrift, circling aimlessly like a planet that had lost its orbit.
“I still don’t know. I miss you every night and keep wondering how to move on, but I’m not sure if that will ever happen. How do you move on from a love like ours?”
He’s known you for almost his entire life, and having you completely erased from his life felt like something he could never get over. Jungkook went a little insane. Everyone around him noticed his change in behaviour, but he pretended to be clueless, perhaps as a foolish act of hoping that you might return, change your mind, want him again, and never leave. It’s the hopeless romantic in Jungkook that makes him cling to shreds of hope for a better ending – a happy ending.
And maybe it’s not so hopeless after all, he thinks, as he watches your eyes sparkle with gentle love when you meet his gaze.
“Have you never thought about calling me?” he asks. “Never wanted to text back?”
“I almost do every night.”
“What makes you hesitate?” Jungkook steps closer, and it’s so dangerous, but you can’t keep pretending you don’t want him.
Which is why you whisper your next words, staring down at the small space retaining between your bodies.
“Because I know that I’d forgive and not fight.” You want to force your eyes back to him, but can’t. “It’s not like I wanted to break up. I just did it because I thought it was the wisest decision for us.”
“___.” It’s just a soft murmur of your name, slipping off his tongue with more love than it should, and it sends your heart fluttering far too easily. His voice draws your gaze up to him, and you’re met with eyes brimming with pure yearning and raw adoration. You never forgot how he looked at you, but you did underestimate the intense pull of his gaze – how it stirs something deep within you, even now.
“I thought it was for the better, but...” You trail off, lost in his eyes, forgetting what you were trying to explain and deny. Because what does it matter? How does anything matter when he’s here – when he’s here and not a single bit of his love for you has wavered?
Jungkook cups your cheek with his free hand. It pulls you closer to him. His thumb brushes gently across your skin, and the world outside of this moment blurs into insignificance.
You can feel your resolve crumbling, the walls you’ve built around your heart starting to fracture. It’s terrifying and comforting all at once, the way he’s always had this power over you – the way he can unravel you with just a look, a touch, a simple word.
“I don’t want to let you go,” Jungkook says, his voice tight with emotion. His hand remains on your cheek, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go.
“Neither do I,” you confess, barely believing your own words. But voicing it out loud seems to untangle something within you that had been knotted and confused for so long.
Jungkook’s eyes search yours, making sure he heard you right, that this moment is real and not just another dream he’s afraid of waking up from. His thumb stills on your cheek, and you can feel the warmth of his palm spreading across your skin, grounding you, anchoring you.
“Is this okay?” He leans in the slightest bit.
You nod, muttering a small “Yeah” as your gaze lingers on his sparkling eyes, the soft curve of his nose, the tiny mole beneath his lip – everything that reminds you of longing, comfort and the feeling of home.
The moment his mouth presses against yours, you feel a surge of warmth. It’s tender and soft, his mouth brushing against yours with a mix of hesitance and longing. As the kiss deepens it becomes more fervent, more urgent, as if he’s trying to convey everything he’s been holding back.
Your lips move with a slow, deliberate rhythm, and the touch of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. There’s a slight pressure as he cups your face, wanting you closer, while his other hand slides down your back, settling on your waist.
“I hope you know that I didn’t come here with these intentions.” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky. But you guide him towards your bed.
“I know. It’s okay.” You straddle his lap. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to.”
Jungkook’s hands are eager and exploratory, skimming over your shoulders, your back, and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. His chin rests in the crook of your neck as he breathes in deeply.
“You don’t know how much I missed you,” he mumbles, nose tickling your neck as he snuggles closer to you. “You missed me too, right?” he speaks with an innocent pout on his lips that you don’t even need to see – you know it’s there.
“Of course I did. Why would you think otherwise?” You run your fingers through his silky hair, which is a comfort for both you and him.
“I think I just need to hear you say it.”
He draws back, and a soft smile touches your lips as you see the achingly tortured expression contorting his face – traces of love and relief at having you so close, right where he wants you.
“I missed you.” You keep your eyes on him.
“Again,” he urges softly.
“I missed you.”
Your fingers gently curl around his face.
Jungkook’s lips brush against yours in a fleeting kiss. His forehead falls against yours as your words sink into him, straight to his heart.
“One more time? Please?”
A giggle slips out of you. “I missed you, Jungkook.”
Your laugh dies in your throat when he crashes his lips against yours, more forceful and passionate this time, pulling you so close to him, you feel everything.
Your hips move on their own, instinctively grinding against his lap. He’s hard and the bulge is right where you’re craving him the most. You kiss turns sloppy and needy and it’s filled with heavy breathing.
Jungkook’s hands are all over you. His touches leave tingling sparks everywhere. You’ve gone months without him, and every little brush of his finger makes you lose your mind. Especially when his hand dips into the front of your tiny shorts, lightly grazing the pad of his finger against your panties and making you twitch when he brushes over your clit. You break the kiss, inhaling sharply.
“I wanna make you feel good.” His words are hushed, a slight tremor tinging his voice. His fingers disappear into your panties, rubbing his middle finger along your folds and spreading your wetness. Jungkook is tender as he moves his finger, and you wish you could see him playing with you, watch him be so soft with you because he loves treating you with delicate care, and you love feeling like you’re everything to him.
Your hips buck as he circles your aching clit. You start whine softly as Jungkook applies a little more pressure, his steady, deliberate movements intensifying the sensations as he continues to rub your sensitive spot.
“You like it?” His gaze fixed intently on your reactions to his touches. His doe eyes drink up every nuance of your face and body – each twitch, shudder, and breath. His expression brightens with a trace of satisfaction.
“Feels good,” you reply shakily.
He has you making his fingers all sticky and wet. As Jungkook slowly teases your hole, drawing tiny circles and ever so slightly dipping the tip of his finger inside, your eyes close and your breath catches while you anticipate the familiar stretch of his finger.
Jungkook slides two fingers inside you, and your brows furrow as you feel them burying deep within your pussy. He moves them slowly, each stroke eliciting soft, breathy moans from you. The gradual, teasing rhythm amplifies your pleasure, and with each tender push, your senses heighten, making you ache for more.
“Move your finger like – oh. That’s right. Don’t stop, please.”
His fingers brush against your sweet spot continuously, making you grip his shoulders tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you try to anchor yourself and try to tame the soft trembles of your body as the pleasure reaches you everywhere.
Jungkook holds you close to him by having his hand placed firmly on the small of your back. He keeps you perched on his lap while you lose yourself in the feeling.
As the pleasure builds, you find yourself melting into him, whimpering his name in a gentle hush. The soft sounds of your voice blends with the rhythmic movements of his fingers.
Jungkook feels you tightening around him. He doesn’t increase his pace but keeps his steady pattern going, exactly how he knows you like it. You hide your face on his shoulder, overwhelmed by the fast-approaching high. Your muffled noises sharply contrasting with the squelching sounds coming your shorts.
“Let me see you,” Jungkook gently requests, tugging gingerly at your shirt to draw you back. It’s just a delicate tug, but it’s enough to pull you away from him. You’re too immersed by the intense feelings enveloping you to fully respond.
He catches the exact moment when your moan gets caught in your throat, your lashes flutter shut, and the sweetest glow settles on your face as you reach your climax.
He doesn’t tease you, instead, he lets you revel in the wave of euphoria that pulses through you, your thighs quivering as you gradually come down from your high. As our breath steadies, your foreheads touch, and you exhale heavily through your nose, tickling Jungkook’s face.
He smiles. His eyes reflect a deep satisfaction, because you’re happy and that’s enough.
Jungkook’s hands travel to your sides and he slowly strokes his palms up and down. Your body is warm and shaky and he wants to hold you forever.
“Is it okay that I want more?”
You nod, kiss him, probably a little deliriously, answering, “I want it just as much.”
Your hand glides under his sweater, fingers tracing the contours of his toned stomach. Jungkook wastes no a time pulling the sweater over his head, tossing it carelessly behind you. He helps you shimmy out of your shorts, discarding your clothes in a hasty rush, stealing giggly kisses between each movement, because you need to feel. He playfully comments on how cute your panties are. His finger lazily skims over the little pink ribbon before the material sinks slips down your legs and pools around your feet in a small heap. You giggle shyly.
Just as you want to sink onto your knees, Jungkook grabs you by the elbows, not letting you.
“Want you on the bed, ___. I need to feel you,” he says, voice strained with desperate need. Jungkook leads you onto the bed, gently laying you down. Your head sinks into the soft pillows. He spreads your legs, settling himself comfortably between them.
Your hair is fanned around your head against the pillow. Jungkook can’t help but stare, utterly captivated. He brushes a few strands away from your face, his fingertips lingering as if memorising every curve. His gaze holds a quiet affection, mingled with a sense of awe, like he is seeing you for the first time and falling for you all over again.
A curse slips his mouth as she stared down at your bare pussy, glistening and shining just for him, looking so pretty only for his eyes. For a few seconds, he allows himself to rub his tip over your wet folds. Just gentle brushes, nothing more. You don’t stop him, letting him play a little.
Jungkook is painfully hard, and he dares to slide his tip further down to tease your hole a little. His stare is fixed downcast while he pokes his cheek with his tongue to distract himself from the urge to push himself all the way as he minimally dips his head inside. Jungkook’s so sensitive, he thinks he could cum like this. He’d go insane if he slipped his cock into without protection. He’s let his mind wander to this fantasy a few times and he so desperately wants to feel all of you with no barrier, especially after not having you for so long, but you both have to be careful.
Someday, when you’re older, Jungkook thinks. When he can love you endlessly without always having to consider the consequences.
“Jungkook.” You pull him back to reality, and a faint pink flush colours his face.
He bends over and opens your nightstand drawer, searching for a condom. His fingers brush against several plastic foil packages, and he pauses, lost in thought. He thinks back to the last time he was over at yours. How many were left in the drawer then? Is his mind playing tricks on him, or were there more condoms the last time he was here?
While Jungkook’s mind drifts to you every night his head falls against the pillow in a different city each night – have you been letting other boys warm your bed?
You say his name again, forcing him out of his racing thoughts once more, this time with a note of impatience.
Jungkook tears open the wrapper, tosses it away along with his doubts, and focuses on you again. You chose him, and for now, that’s all that matters to him.
He rolls it down his length. Your eyes fixate on the slow connection of your bodies. Once he’s fully inside, a shaky whimper escapes your throat, trembling as it leaves you. Jungkook begins to move his hips with deliberate thrusts, and your head rolls back, eyes drifting to the ceiling as Jungkook finds his pace.
“You’re so pretty.” His eyes roam over your naked figure, so much adoration and maybe a hint of obsession hiding in them. The white covers beneath you are messy and chaotic, and you lie on top of them like a delicate masterpiece, a striking contrast to the chaos of the bed. The soft light casts a warm glow on your skin, highlighting every curve and contour. The soft swells of your boobs move with every thrust and he enjoys the sight of it.
You grow a little shy beneath his intense gaze. You turn your head and cover your face with your arm.
Jungkook lowers himself, clicking his tongue as he gently pulls your arm away. “Don’t.” His grip is firm on your wrist and he holds it against the covers, preventing you from hiding again. However, his hold on your chin is careful as he guides your gaze back to him. Fingers slightly caressing your skin. “I love everything about you, baby.” His words coax a small smile from you, which he acknowledges with an approving nod and a smile of his own. “You don’t need to hide from me.”
“It’s just been a while.” You bite your lip. The shyness still lingers, like spotting your crush in a crowded room and instinctively hiding, feeling all giddy inside.
Jungkook slows a little, buried so deep inside you, but his movements are precise, hitting the spot that makes your tummy clench.
“I know,” he says softly, tracing his thumb over your lip to free it from your clenched teeth. He plants a little kiss on your mouth, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip to soothe the ache you’ve caused yourself. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” Jungkook admits as his round nose brushes your cheek. You’re so wet and snug around him that he has to focus intently to keep from coming right away. You’re too good, too pretty, occupying every corner of his mind. “Missed you so much. You don’t even know.”
Jungkook’s head falls into the crook of your shoulder. His moans grow a little louder as he moves faster again. He can’t help himself. Feels too good. You wrap your legs around him, allowing him to bury himself even deeper. You pull him closer, throwing your arms around him to have him as close to you as possible while Jungkook repeatedly tells you how much he has missed you and loves you, how he never wants to let go of you and keep you to himself forever. How you are meant for him just as much he is meant for you.
Jungkook sneaks one hand between your bodies and grasps your breast. Keeps a firm squeeze around your flesh while your bed rhythmically hits the wall. All the tender murmurs and quiet gasps of your love had been missing from your room for so long that you began to doubt if Jungkook would ever again fill your bed with his warmth and whispers.
You feel the heat rising on your skin, growing with each passing second, and you can sense it on Jungkook’s body too. His back is hot, slightly slick with a sheen of sweat, and you can’t resist digging your nails into his muscled shoulders, leaving chaotic, frantic lines across his skin. A whine, which you try to suppress, tumbles from your lips as the tingling sensation spreads through you.
Jungkook pulls back, his movements weary yet determined, and peers at you through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Jungkook,” you mumble weakly, and he nods, because he knows.
With a gentle but firm motion, Jungkook shifts, guiding you both onto your sides. He slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you close to his chest as he continues to move inside you. The new position allows him to thrust deeper, and you gasp. His other hand slides down your thigh, hitching your leg over his hip to open you up further.
The intimacy of the position, with your bodies so close and intertwined, makes everything feel more intense, more personal. As you move together, your eyes lock. You see in his eyes the reflection of your own emotions, a mirror of longing, affection.
Tears begin to well up in your eyes, not just from the overwhelming pleasure, but from the sheer depth of the moment, the intimacy of it all, and how much you’ve missed him.
He notices the tears glistening in your eyes. “Baby,” he breathes. “Are those tears for me?”
“I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’m not letting you leave me again.” It’s a promise wrapped in desire. “That’ll never happen again.”
His hand on your waist grips you tighter, and his thrusts become more urgent until you’re both teetering on the edge.
Jungkook’s hips stutter as he loses control, and with one final, deep thrust, he’s all the way inside you, spilling into the condom with a low groan. At the same time, you reach your peak, your body clenching tightly around his length, breathy puffs escaping your lips as the intense tremors take over. Jungkook’s holds you steady through all of it.
He stays inside you, savouring the warmth and closeness for a few more moments before carefully pulling out. He presses soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his breath still uneven as you both come down from the high.
Later, after Jungkook asked if it’s okay to stay – just as you had been plagued by the thought that he might want to leave, and sighed in relief upon realising you were on the same page, lovesick and obsessed after finding each other again – and after he asked if he could borrow one of his old t-shirts and you giggled, saying they are his anyway (they are more yours than his and you both know it), you’re now cuddled up in bed with your head on his chest, right on top of his heart where you belong.
“Forgot how comfy your bed is.” He nuzzles deeper into the mattress, wriggling beneath you.
“You should visit more often, then.”
Jungkook sniffs a surprised laugh at your flirty remark.
“I should, huh?” He brushes his knuckles over your back. “After the tour, I’ll make sure to drop by as often as possible,” he says. “So much that you might get sick of me.”
You smile. Banter and flirt and giggle with him a bit more before you both drift off to sleep.
But you wonder, every time your eyes flutter open in the dark, is it actually this easy to fall back into normality?
Pretend the last few months didn’t happen and continue as you had never been apart?
Questions swirl in your head all night long, but the answer to your doubts lies right beside you. Unlike you, he isn’t awake, grappling with what’s right and wrong – he’s softly sleeping, peacefully unconscious of your turmoil.
It makes you think, is it really this simple and you’re just too much? Or is it all a mess, and you’re the only one trying to make sense of it?
Maybe you had it all wrong.
And you wonder, the next morning, are you really that surprised to find the spot next to you empty?
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igniting-quill · 11 months ago
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Happy Birthday Vic!!!
I super super super love this! After looking through it, I think my fave art of yours is the one you did of our Pirate Campaign's D&D session with us on the Crow's nest!
Like sure I'm biased, my OC is in there, but it's also so pretty? Everyone's color coded and got their cool outfits??? Cloud Pretty? What color is the sky? Teamwork makes a dreamwork as everyone is tryig to find it? My OC with all the other OC's in the d&d game???
It's linked below:
HI ITS MY BIRTHDAY TODAY :D I'd love just 1 or 2 things from yall for my bday
Tell me your favourite art of mine from the past year [see all of them here, tumblr archive for the win]
Commission me or throw me a couple bucks over on kofi if you have the means!
#fr it was the one thing that kinda got me to be like 'oh I'm in it now'#if you remember I was suuuper like *hi im new i don't know shit go easy on me lololol im a newbie hahaha*#I made hai and thought about her a lot but I also made her silent and a tank so I wouldn't have to think during rp cuz that was scawy#Then BOOM there was THIS GORGEOUS ART and at that point WE HADN'T EVEN PLAYED YET#Shout out to the Art from Lea#Fic from Heather#EVERYTHING from DM Crow#but hey thanks for this!#Like legit I hadn't even considered what Hai would LOOK like before you prompted me HAHA#ALSO ALSO#Vic you just offered this as a phone wallpaper???#What I'm saying is this art is more than the art for me#I associate it with this D&D group I stumbled into this year#Thanks for it!#Other shoutouts... OH The recent commission you did for Crow's DM-sona... totally am not biased with that too cuz it has three of my--#three of my characters#And also THE SWOOPY LINES?#Love the curves of the... clothes? idk what they are the black whispies#The nonbinary colors#The dice on 13 was interesting usually considered unlucky but it's my lucky number haha#Also it's a gif you went above and beyond#hmmm what else#OH MY GOSH Your riff on the Dogs Playing Poker UC#So good truly#Also okay I'm a sucker for fun lighting because the one with sunlight going through blind landing on Atelut and Rian cuddled up in bed#That#There's so so so many Vic#I can't choose they're all so good#OH YES ALSO HAI AS A PONY#Okay that's all I've showered you with tags have a great bday
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hoshigray · 4 months ago
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HII idk if u already did this but can u do first time with college guy nanami plz? ^-^
𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg stop, this is perfect !! also happy early bday to me & my bday twin/hubby, nanamin, mwah
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Nanami x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college juniors - first time; virginity loss - fingering (f! receiving) - kissing; making out - nipple sucking - missionary position - protected sex - pet names (angel, baby, honey, love) - nanami is so soft and gentle w/ you <333 - mention of tears and pain.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k
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“Shit…you feel okay, baby?”
“Hahhh, yes, Ken…Mmmm, please, keep going…”
Nanami should’ve known something was fishy the moment his partner asked to come over to his apartment to study in the middle of a Friday night — the weekend had just started, and you wanted to work with him at his place? No way…But he voices no complaints whatsoever. 
You lay on his bed, the bedroom lights dimmed and emphasizing the skin of both you and Nanami’s nude bodies. Your boyfriend above you, kissing your forehead as his left hand is busy fingering your bare chasm and coating your labia with the lube he applied on his fingers. You moan sweetly at his touch, his digits nestling between your folds, and gasping at the slow insertion of his middle finger. Your inner channel clamps onto it, twitching around it as his right hand kneads the flesh of your inner thigh to soothe you.
Nanami presses his forehead to yours after placing kisses on your hot cheek. “Shhh, it’s okay, angel,” your sobs quiet down with his words, wailing softly at the curl of his middle finger scraping your velvety texture. “I’m right here…”
Tonight was significant, not just for him but for you too. Two virgins came together for a night of passion and union; however, Nanami didn’t want to ruin this moment just for his pleasure. He’s sharing this with you and wanted everything orchestrated perfectly for your comfort. You were his top priority above anything else, so he wanted you to be content.
Kisses trail down from your cheek and chin, and his lips lick around your nipple as he sucks the bud in, his tongue lapping around it makes you jerk along the rub of his finger. 
“Ahaaah, oh God,” you throw your head back. “Kento, I–Mmmph…I want it, please…”
He releases your nipple with a pull of his lips before peering into your eyes, chocolate orbs scanning your expression with sincerity. “You sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Yes, I’m ready,” you nod and spread your legs further, exhaling once he removes his middle finger from your soaking slit. “I know you’d never hurt me, Ken.”
Nanami can’t fight the smile creeping on his face as he situates himself, kissing you tenderly while he positions his erect cock to you, sheathed with a rubber. 
The tip of his length greets you, pushing itself lightly to the very entrance of your vagina. The initial pain makes itself known in seconds, having you whine into his mouth and your body involuntarily flinching. Yet, Nanami is there to relax you. “It’s okay,” he reminds you. “Relax your body; don’t be tense, baby. Breathe.”
A piece of advice you know would be beneficial so you construct a pattern to breathe adequately. And he watches every inhale and exhale, allowing you to ready yourself with every intake of air and pushing his tip further as you expel. Biting on your bottom lip, hands gripping the sheets, eyes watering from your shut eyelids—this experience was propelling you to suffocate in the sensation alone. And he hasn’t even put the cockhead in yet…
But when he does, it’s a revelation to the deepest part of your soul. You arch to the addition and gasp with Nanami, a foreign feeling of your hole being stretched. You were rigid, alarmed to take another breath; trembles came up your legs to your shoulders, and your toes locked to a curl. 
“You okay?” You nod ever-so-slowly, breathing with an agape mouth. “Hnnmm, good…Going to start moving now.”
His hips go excruciatingly sluggish, and leisure strokes drive his dick further into your warm channel, leaving the boy moaning with flattened lips and trenched brows. Your tightness feels snug to him, gripping nicely around his cock as if he could melt. And your quiet shrieks sound so cute, and he keeps coaxing you with every inch taken until his golden pubes meet yours.
Cautious strokes begin, and your voice is dialed to a higher volume. Hands find their way around Nanami’s neck, same with your legs coming around his waist. His movements are nothing harsh or rushed; they’re gentle and patient, permitting you to adjust to him and his body being one with yours. 
“Ohhh, hoooh, Kentoo,” you whimper in the air between you two. “Oh God—Ahhaa!!” The tip grazes your walls to the point of your nerves spiking. “Yesss, yeeeess…!”
“Hnnmm…Haaahh, fuck,” he curses to himself, his nose brushing yours. “You feel so good, honey…” He brings his face in for another kiss, this one more lustful than the last yet just as loving and secure. Hips grow confidence, thrusts pounding to you more selfishly while maintaining a moderate pace. He drinks your moans with his mouth, shivers slithering up his spine with the clasp of your cunt. 
The pain from before is long gone, exchanged with pleasure now that your lower region is accustomed to the commotion. The poke to your walls is sudden yet euphoric, same with the stretch of your entrance while he rubs on your texture and reaches in places you never imagined. It’s so good; it feels so fucking good!
“—Mmahhh, Kent—Toooh!” You break the kiss, yet Nanami keeps the closeness intimate with his cheek to yours. “OhhmyGod, right there! Right…Hmmm, maah!!” Nails dig to the skin of his back, your pitch gets higher and higher, and your awaited climax awards you. 
 Your tender walls flutter with the arrival of your orgasm, shrieking as your figure sinks to the pleasure as shocks of your crescendo flourish. And Nanami continues to rut into you until his drive comes to an end, groaning to your ear as he jerks and his cock spurts his load into the condom. The cling of you on him pulls him in, and you hold him close until both your heaving bodies are tranquil.
He then straightens to examine you, noticing the tear that dared leave your eyes. And as the benevolent boyfriend you fell in love with, he brushes his thumb on your cheek to wipe. “Thank you,” you giggle.
And he smiles back. “So beautiful, love.”
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© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.
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seumyo · 7 months ago
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 6:34
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do u want to celebrate your bday, mr. great explosion murder god dynamight
Bakugou stared at your message for a while. He sits by his study desk, supposedly taking a break from his homework. His brows are contorted to one of contemplation, a pout on his lips as he types in his reply—rather quickly, too.
hell no
(ꃋᴖꃋ)
He shook his head. Bakugou turns off his phone and sets it to the side. 
If anything, he hates and genuinely gets upset with surprises, especially when celebrating his birthday. He doesn’t get it; why people celebrate another year closer to death. When he was younger, he remembered loving the attention, the gifts, and the praise. 
But now that he’s older, he’d much rather just spend time by himself. Maybe cook himself a dish or two to celebrate, but that’s it. He doesn’t need anything grand—not anymore, at the very least.
Then again, why would you be asking him a question like that as if you weren’t on the other side of Japan? He thinks it’s childish; besides, celebrating his birthday is a complete waste of time. He’s a hero-in-training, and so are you, so he’d rather use that time of celebration to either train or study (and he has the audacity to call other people nerds).
Bakugou decides to go to school earlier than normal because he doesn’t want to give those idiots (his classmates) time to even prepare for a surprise party (yes, Kaminari’s horrible at whispering and keeping secrets) for him in the dorms (and also the classroom; it just slipped from the tip of Kirishima’s tongue).
A hand holds onto his shoulder, and by instinct, he moves away from the contact and turns to the person with a scowl. If he weren’t alert, he would’ve blown said person to bits, and yet the moment he hears that familiar laugh, all raised defenses are lowered and his tense shoulders relax.
“What the fuck?”
“Surprise! I knew you’d come to school early,” you greet him with a bear hug. Bakugou scowls as he tries to push you away.
“Kats, I missed you so much! It’s been forever since we last saw each other—”
“How the hell did you get here?”
You grinned, ignoring his non-serious threats of exploding you to the skies. “Come on, Grouchy. I don’t have much time, y’know?” You dragged Bakugou toward one of the private lounge areas within the grounds of U.A., and he’s surprised you knew how to navigate your way around the campus. “Don’t worry, I asked for a bit of help from Midoriya since he’s the only one I know aside from you that goes to this school.”
“That damned—”
“Don’t get mad at him! Getting mad would make you wrinkle quicker, and don’t furrow your brows; I think I’m seeing wrinkled lines in your forehead.”
“You—”
“There’s no time for scolding me, Kats!” You held up a bento cake to him. 
He notices the two little boxes of what he assumed would be his presents behind you and the lighter you used to light up the candle. He thinks it’s wasteful when he could’ve just lit it up himself with his Quirk. Then again, he couldn’t really do anything anymore because what’s done is done.
The cake itself was thoughtful. Frosted with light orange frosting, decked out with what he assumed were mini explosions made out of fondant at the sides and a little lettering that said, “hbd dynamight,” with a little spark of red, orange, and black at the end of the sentence. 
Bakugou looks back on it, and the realization dawns on him.
This is the first time someone—aside from his parents—made the effort to give him a cake for his birthday. 
“Do you want me to sing happy birthday?” You ask when he doesn’t immediately blow out the candle.
“Fuck, no.” He rolled his eyes and took a moment before doing so.
“You didn’t have to do all this, nerd.”
“But I wanted to.”
That made Bakugou smile, even if it was only a little. “Thanks.”
“You’re seventeen now, and that is one year older than being a senior citizen,” he chuckled, “and as always, don’t smoke, drink, or do anything that would get your hero license revoked. Lessen the frown and turn it upside down; remember that I’m an awesome friend for remembering your favorite cake flavor even if you don’t eat it often—and finally, happy birthday, Kats.”
His heart is beating too quickly as he tries to play it cool by nodding to everything you said. He’s missed this, though he’d rather die than tell you that, knowing damn well you would never let him live it down.
“Whatever, you sap.” Bakugou stuck out his tongue, and you did as well.
“Well— shit, I have to go before I miss the next train.”
“Don’t have morning classes, then? Shiketsu’s a four-hour commute from here.”
“Uh huh. Remember—”
“Yeah, yeah. Cake goes in the fridge if I don’t want to eat it, and send you a video of me opening your gift. I hope it’s not ass, like last year’s mug with our picture on it.”
“Hey–! It was a very good picture,” you replied. “I have one too, just so you know,” you chuckled after finishing packing everything up. “Because it’s cool to match mugs. Really good way to strengthen our relationship. It makes you think of me whenever you have your morning coffee or tea.”
He snorts. “As if, nerd.”
Bakugou watches you leave, but not before seeing you stumble against your feet, which made him cackle obnoxiously at your misery. With the bento cake and gifts in either of his hands, he thinks this is one of his best birthdays yet. And spending it with you, even if it were only for a short moment, is surprisingly fulfilling.
He may start to enjoy surprises if they were this pleasant.
Now he just has to worry about getting back to the dorms without being seen by any of the idiots that would pester him about where he got his cake and gifts from.
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withleeknow · 20 days ago
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october 23rd.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, slice of life; one ass grab, unedited bc i am a danger to society word count: 1k note: i whipped this up pretty spontaneously and i actually kinda loathe it lol but i still wanted to post smth bc it’s my anniversary of joining the fandom 🥺 also a little early bday post for mimo. the bunny in question is leebit but i couldn’t drop any names bc this is not idol specific lol. anywhomst happy jen(o)versary
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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Minho comes into your shared apartment, shrugging off his coat and taking off his shoes with minimal noise. It’s not that late — just a quarter past midnight — and you’re not a light sleeper by any means, but still.
He had told you not to wait up for him, that his work dinner might end late and he knew you had a long day. Minho patters on socked feet further into your home, expecting you to be in bed already sleeping, surrounded by your loyal trio of cats, and yet, it’s not the bedroom where he finds you.
Yes, you’re sleeping, but you’re on the couch, in front of the TV with Netflix’s question “Are you still watching?” written over a paused scene of the K-drama you’re both currently obsessed with. There’s a stuffed bunny in your arms, held tightly against your chest like it’s your most prized possession. Looks like you’ve been napping for a while now.
The white bunny is dressed in a navy hoodie, his eyes full of mischief that’s only emphasized by a toothy smile that he sports. It’s the plushie that Minho got for you during your vacation trip to Osaka last year, when you happened to spot the little fur ball in the window of a toy store and said it looked like your boyfriend. It’s become a great companion for you ever since you brought it home, something for you to hold onto whenever you miss your love.
Minho is a little surprised. You don’t usually force yourself to stay up for you, especially when you’re tired.
He doesn’t disturb you right away though. Instead, he heads toward the bathroom to change and freshen up for bed. You would probably kill him if he touched you in his outside clothes anyway.
When he returns some fifteen minutes later, he switches off the TV, tugs the bunny by its ears to free it from your embrace and chucks the thing haphazardly to the carpeted floor. It’s your prized possession, not his. Besides, you don’t need your little replacement Minho anymore now that he’s home.
When he scoops you in his arms, you stir awake, adorably confused as he carries you to the bedroom.
“Where’s my bunny?” Half a question, half a yawn.
“Hello to you too,” he mutters, laying you under the covers with narrowed eyes though he still leans in to press a greeting peck to the corner of your mouth. “I guess I don’t even matter as much as your little toy. Not even a ‘How are you?’”
“Okay, love of my entire life.” You roll your eyes with affection, pulling him down to kiss him properly. You can still taste it, the white wine that he must’ve had all night. “How are you? How was the dinner, big baby?”
“Boring. Unbearable. Should’ve just stayed home with you,” Minho laments, crawling into the space next to you, settling into your arms as you hug him close. This is what you should be doing all the time. With him, not some lame rabbit. “Why did you wait up? I told you you didn’t have to.”
You card your fingers through his soft hair, playing with the strands that curl at the nape of his neck. “Our anniversary’s tomorrow. Or I guess it’s today already. Just wanted to see you before the morning.”
“Would it make a difference?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”
Your boyfriend detaches from you for a second to hold himself up on one elbow. He just stares at you for a brief moment, makes you blush under the scrutiny of his gaze. His big eyes, usually keen and sharp, always soften to a dizzying degree when they look at you.
Then Minho is leaning close to slant his mouth over yours again. “You’re cheesy today,” he comments, his tender smile still pressed against your lips. "Happy anniversary."
You only hum in response. One of his hands slides down your body to rest on your ass, giving it a little affectionate squeeze, the moment still entirely innocent despite his sneaky fingers.
You kiss for a while, lazily moving together in tandem, gentle hands holding onto the other person like a lifeline. In a way, you suppose you are. You’re each other’s lifelines, each other’s lighthouses.
When you pull away, it’s to let out a yawn that you can’t hold in anymore. “Happy anniversary”, you finally say back, sleepily. “Can you go get my bunny now? Did you leave him on the floor again?”
Minho rolls his eyes, yet it’s playful and completely endeared. “Your bunny again. That thing is on the floor where it belongs. You replaced me. Didn’t you use to call me your bunny?”
“Don’t do that to him,” you scold softly. “He’s our son. Have you seen the resemblance? You look like you literally birthed him.”
“Oh my god, why would you compare me to that thing like that?” Before you know it, Minho’s rolling over, resting half of his body on top of yours like a weighted blanket to pin you down, to get you complacent before you nag him any further about a toy bunny that he only sometimes gets jealous of. “You’re delirious. Please go to sleep.”
The next morning, you wake up to an empty bed, the warmth that you usually feel beside you gradually waning by the second. Minho’s gone, but greeting you in his place is a white bunny with a mischievous smile and a twinkle in his big eyes — truly a perfect replica of the man. The same bunny that he always makes a show of hating so much.
The sun is out to play, hanging high up in the sky, slithering through the cracks between the curtains to caress your hair. It feels like it’s gonna be a beautiful day; you’ve got your bunny, the sun, and if you focus hard enough, you’ll hear the sounds of pots and pans out there in the kitchen, Minho’s soft voice humming a tune you’re too familiar with, and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting all around.
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 23.10.2024]
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