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fanfic-me-up · 5 years ago

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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festeringneondistraction · 2 years ago

Text

I'm starting my new job for real tomorrow and i'm so anxious.

So after months of unemployment i finally got a job. Well its technically not a job it more like paid community service. Its called Mandy's Farm and its part of the Americorps program, I am serving as a part of the Vamos program. We provide employment services and adult skills training to developmentally disabled people between 14-25 years old. Plenty of other things but I suggest a google to get the full picture.

For context I am 19 years old and have a background in daycare and special needs students, more importantly I am AuDHD and disabled as well. I've come into this field because of a deep desire to help my people and other community members. I crave advocacy, I've always wanted to feel like i'm actually helping people, I want to be in the trenches. So far everyone is super accommodating and nice so i really don't have anything to worry about. I'm just meeting a lot of people in person who have heard a lot about me presumably and that is really anxiety provoking. What about the students? They seem super nice but im still really worried about people not liking me. Plus there are likely disabilities that I have yet to encounter that I will have to adjust to and learn about which isn't a bad thing at all that's fine. But what if I mess up?? What if I get overstimulated and shy?

This is definitely a step up the professional ladder for me which is unnatural. I was prepared to go back to Joann's or worse. I'm still super broke but I can already tell that i'm going to be so much happier. I hope I can get along with everyone, people think i'm knowledgeable which in my opinion is quite a high compliment. Weirdly enough my daycare experience already appears to be more relevant than I thought same thing with my performing arts school background. I hope there are people that I can relate to and that relate to me. Currently i'm just listening to Death cab for Cutie and a Cewpins Vod (highly recommend if you smoke at all!!) because after training I was just totally wiped and got home and did my routine.

We had to go to home depot to get a replacement toilet handle because you gotta love cheap apartments. :)

Get home (BF does the toilet because im wiped out).

Immediately do a hugeeeee afterwork dab.

Chill high as fuck for a bit.

Order food reluctantly.

Wait for than eat the food.

Try to stay up.

Fail.

Pass out in an unnatural position with lights on and everything.

Have random sex because fuck it lol.

Sleep part 2.

Wake up.

Computer at like 1:15 am

Get your stimulation of choice.

Dab again.

Get anxious then hop on tumblr to vent.

So that's pretty much it. Jacob is still asleep. He's still frustrated and depressed understandably so but the difference is that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and he cant seem to yet, I guess it feels a little closer for me... Things have been really hard lately,,, our guinea pig Boston died a few days ago.. We haven't been able to bury him yet so he's just in our freezer... Which sucks because I don't cook really so I cant use my freezer so like pretty much all my food. I would like to get some closure. He's definitely still haunting me.

My only IRL friend I live near has Covid and her whole family including her 1 year old daughter is sick.. I just got over Covid and it sucks ass. She said she got it from work but its fucking everywhere again where i'm at so who even knows.

I also cant find my goddamn wallet!! I have google pay and everything but i still need my damn wallet!! Im frustrated because this is the seccound important wallet I have not been able to to find and i cant get fucked over again. If any witches have some lost object spells or tips id genuinely appreciate it i'm pretty desperate.

I have a feeling this new job is definitely going to keep me busy, Another huge advantage is when I finish my service I get an education award that can go to past of future collage payments. I could attempt to start collage... god who knows I still cant drive I still can only manage 6th grade math. I wish that I was competent at math i never have been.

I say 6th grade roughly it could be better but it is likely even worse than i think it is. I have serve trauma relating to a math teacher I had in middle school and then highschool. It goes back even farther because you know how undiagnosed learning disabilities are. The school had to intervene because he was my only option for a math class. Long story short I ended up getting a free math credit in 8th grade where during the period id just sit in the deans office and use it as a "study hall". Listened to some great music in that "class" i was often productive but not in the ways that people wanted me to lol.

I'm debating hoping on some Khan academy or something just because i resent math so hard I need to conquer it. Plus if I'm planning on college (which I am) I want to be ready for gen eds. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my brain is scrambled i just want my ebt card bro. Im outta fooddddd. I miss money, Is it time to talk to rich art school friend?? Is that unethical?? Alan if youre reading this id appreciate whatever is possible <3 ( kidding not kiddingggg)

#audhd #autism post #community service #disability #developmental disabilities #money help #im so broke #music is nice #weed #dabs #anxiety #death cab for cutie #animal death

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

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What about the time reader says I love you for the first time and it's not very good timing and they dont see each other for a bit after she says it and she's worried she messed up?

+ anon request of “At what point do they say I love you cause I feel like they’re both already half way in love with each other by the time they leave the airport lol”

Im With You - Masterlist

“Doll, I really gotta go,” Bucky laughed, one foot inside the taxi, the rest of him leaning up and over the door as you kept your hands gripped into the collar of his shirt. He giggled like a kid on a playground as you pressed kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips. Neither of you minded as the taxi driver impatiently blared down on the horn.

It was hard to let go of him knowing he’d be leaving for two weeks to visit Rebecca at Oxford. He was so proud the day she’d called and told him she’d been accepted to their graduate program, he’d shouted the news to the entire café at near eight in the morning, startling an old man into spilling his tea down his front. Bucky had apologized profusely, bought the man a new drink and scone to make up for the mess, but he was giddy with pride, whistling and grinning to himself, for the entire day.

Six months had passed the graduation and things had been better between Bucky and his sister. They texted once every few weeks, a short exchange here and there, simple questions about Bucky’s job and whether Rebecca had started packing yet. They were mending something that had been severed for years. It would take time. They both knew that.

But this was a good step.

“Sweetheart, stop it! I’m gonna miss my flight,” Bucky warned, trying to pull away again, though he didn’t put much effort into it. He was usually the one fighting for affection, pulling you into his arms on the street and kissing you until strangers turned away awkwardly. He liked the attention and wondered if he should travel more just to see this side of you again.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, letting go of his shirt and he fell into his seat with a huff. His hair was messy from where your hands had run through it and he had that blissed out kind of look on his face that made your stomach twist to knots. You closed the door behind him and tapped on the roof of the taxi.

Bucky rolled down the window, resting his forearms on the frame as the driver switched on the turn signal. You stepped back to the sidewalk, giving him a short wave.

“I’ll call,” Bucky promised. He looked like a damn dream.

“I know you will,” you replied, arms folded over your chest as you smiled back at him.

The taxi started to pull out into the street and you missed him already. Bucky mouthed a last goodbye, his voice obstructed by the shout of the cabby as he cursed out the driver next to him. You laughed, following the few feet down the sidewalk to be with him just a little longer.

“Just fly safe, alright? Have fun for me,” you laughed, shaking your head at Bucky’s attempts to hold a conversation with you from his window of the taxi.

“Won’t be possible without you!” He was practically screaming. His driver looked about ready to toss him on the street.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” you teased, shaking your head as you started to back away. “Love you.”

Bucky's smile fell away in an instant. Face falling into shock. Eyes wide. “What?”

You raised a brow. You couldn’t hear him. A bike zoomed past you, keeping you from walking out to the curb. “What’s wrong?”

“What did you just say?” he called over the rush of traffic, then turning to the cab driver to get him to pull over but it was too late. The cab disappeared into the flow of cars.

Shaking your head, you pulled out your phone at the soft vibrations in your pocket, Bucky’s face illuminated on the screen, when a sudden heavy force slammed into your side, sending you spiraling to the ground. You fell with a thud against your left hip, turning to find a jogger in expensive running gear sending an apologetic grimace over his shoulder as he pointed at his watch, a signal that he needed to keep his pace and couldn’t bother to stop to help you.

You rolled your eyes, trying to find your footing again when you realized your phone had been thrown from your hands. It was a few feet into the street, but it appeared unharmed. Bucky’s name was still lit up on the screen. The slight wave of relief was short lived until a Tesla drove right over it as you took your first step off the curb, its horn screaming at you.

Your phone was in pieces.

Well, shit.

You thought about running upstairs to grab your computer before realizing Bucky took your laptop to the Apple store a few days ago after it started displaying the blue screen of death. With no access to your phone or social media, you’d just have to hope whatever he was so concerned about wasn’t a huge deal. You’d get your phone sorted out in a few hours.

Hopefully you could track him down before his flight took off.

Later, after you’d spent an hour sitting in the lobby of the cell store, waiting for your turn, you started thinking back to your goodbye with Bucky, wondering what had set him off. You’d been teasing him. It was hard to hear over the horns of the traffic and the pedestrians around you, but you were certain he’d known you were joking with him.

He said he’d call.

You told him to be safe. Have fun.

He made his corny jokes.

You said goodbye and then...

“Shit!” you gasped, hands clamping to your mouth as a mother quickly stood from her seat next to you carrying a three-year-old now repeating the curse word on a loop. She glared at you and you couldn’t hold it together enough to offer an apology.

You’d told him you loved him.

You'd known for a while, felt it almost before you’d even boarded the plane back to the city that first weekend, but you were never supposed to tell him like this. You were going to wait a few more months, when it felt like a reasonable time when most normal couples who met in a perfectly average way would have said that sort of thing.

Not as he was driving away to board a flight to London for the next two weeks.

“Oh, God,” you whined, sinking into the chair, remembering the look on his face, how his smile had fallen away, how shocked he’d been. You pinched at the bridge of your nose, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, and you tried to make yourself as small as you could manage.

It didn’t work.

“Y/n?”

You glanced up to find an employee in a red shirt calling your name. She offered you a sad smile as you hulled yourself to your feet. The look on her face was warning enough.

“It looks like we’re going to need two weeks to get the parts for your phone,” she said.

You nodded. Of course.

“You’re welcome to use one of our other devices in the meantime.” She gestured to a wall of phones, all of which were priced at rentals well over your budget. You didn’t have the spare funds to be wasting on the parts for your phone, let alone another phone entirely.

“N-No, I’ll manage,” you said dejectedly. You’d lived without a cellphone once in your life. You’d been a kid in the age before children had iPads and touchscreens were considered the peak of technology. You could get through this.

Until you realized you didn't know Bucky’s number. Or Steve’s. Or anyone that could possibly get you in contact with him once his plane landed in London. You wondered if he’d still try to call only to be met with your voicemail or if you’d freaked him out enough to keep his distance. You wouldn’t find out, you supposed. He had no way of reaching you until he got back.

It was the day Bucky was supposed to get back.

You had spent the past two weeks in constant anxiety. There had been a few times you thought about tracking down Steve at his place, but you couldn’t remember the address or how to get there. How had you become so reliant on a damn phone?

So, you sat on your couch, staring at the wall. He’d go straight home, you were sure. He'd be exhausted from jetlag and the itinerary of sights Rebecca likely dragged him and his mother on. You’d seen her email detailing the trip before he left. He'd been so excited.

You were about to go downstairs to check your mail again, hoping they’d shipped you your phone by now, when you heard a sudden pounding on the door that forced a skip in your heart.

“Y/n?! Please tell me you’re in there! Jesus— open the door.”

Bucky?

You found yourself paralyzed, terrified to even stand. The pounding continued.

“Come on,” Bucky called and you could the crack in his voice, the panic. “Don’t do this to me. I gotta talk to you. Please be home. Please be home.”

You swallowed nervously, standing on wobbling legs as you made your way to the door. He was still knocking on the other side, calling out to you and you could hear your neighbors shouting at him to quiet down, but he didn’t let up.

The moment you unfastened the deadbolt, he silenced instantly. A squeak in the floor meant he took a step back and you slowly opened the door.

He stood in the frame; dark circles under his eyes and his luggage down at his feet. He was out of breath.

Then, unable to take the tension, you boke spoke at once.

“You didn’t answer my calls.”

“A Tesla ran over my phone.”

Bucky paused, confused. “Wait-- what?”

You took a deep breath, twisting at your hands nervously, avoiding his eyes. “A, um, a Tesla ran over my phone after you left. I’ve been waiting on a replacement but the interim phones were too expensive and you took my computer to the shop earlier this week, so I haven’t been able to get ahold of anyone and I’ve been--”

“Oh, thank God.” Bucky engulfed you into his arms, causing you to stumble back a few paces into your kitchen, but he held you steady. His nose pressed in tight to your neck, arms constricting at your waist. “You weren’t picking up when I called and I thought—I thought you didn’t--”

He didn’t finish the thought.

“You did mean it, right?” he asked slowly, pulling back just enough to see your eyes. He was searching you, scanning you, but you couldn’t speak. “Tell me you did. I’ve been going crazy, doll. I almost got on a flight back about seven different times but my ma kept trying to tell me I was being nuts, but I�� I couldn’t stand the idea of you not knowing I love you, too.”

“You what?” The air left your lungs, Bucky’s face still nuzzled in tight to the crook of your neck, his words slightly muffled by the cotton of your sweatshirt.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. There was a kind of relief in his eyes as a heavy breath left his lungs. He brushed a hair away from your face, thumb tracing delicately over your cheekbone.

“I love you,” he said again, so calmly, so sweetly, it ignited a storm of fireworks and butterflies in your stomach. “Please tell me I wasn’t hearing you wrong because I’ll start feeling really damn stup--”

Lips crashed to his, hands curling tight into the lapel of his jacket, as close as you could manage to get him. He smiled against your lips, the soft vibrations of his laugh warm against you, and you melded to him. It was where you should be.

Only after your lungs were tight without air, you pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, his nose, his jaw, until he was laughing and smiling wide enough for it to wrinkle by his eyes.

Bucky wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “So, does this mean--”

You swatted his arm, kissing him again, before you said what you’d been waiting to since the day you boarded the flight back to NYC, hand in hand, without the weight of your insecurities on your shoulders, a burden he’d helped in lifting.

“I love you, too.”

—

Ok folks that’s the end of this lovely series! I’ve so appreciated the love and support on my first real attempt at fluff ♥️ I hope this sustains you through the next one shot I plan on posting (hint: it’s titled A Twice Broken Man) and my next major series about undercoverFBIagent!Bucky infiltrating Hydra 👀

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

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Hi Steph! I hope you’re doing well now that you aren’t working as much! I want to preface this question with the fact that I adore everything you do. This isn’t a demand for more, I’m just curious. Have you had a chance to look around for a replacement for rabbit at all? Are the watchalongs still a thing you would consider bringing back? Again, you provide a ton of fandom delights already. I’m just being greedy. If you’ve got your hands full or there isn’t an alternative, please don’t sweat it!

Hi Nonny! *HUGS*

Yeeeahhhhhhhh the watchalong, which I am surprised people are asking if it’s coming back, since the numbers were dwindling so much :( But yeah, it really was a joy for me when I was lonely and having y’all to chat with every Saturday was nice.

Since I was so busy during my tenure in the summer with my work contract, I didn’t get a chance to check out Rabbit alternatives other than what they have now, kast.gg. And while it looks safe, I have a problem with my watchers having to download a program to watch a stream; at least with a web stream I could at least see my numbers fluctuate… with people being forced to download an app, I most certainly will have either no one show up or very few people. I was already getting discouraged with the low numbers with the web stream, but I do get better ones in the winter when people don’t want to go outside, LOL LOL.

AND since I’ve finished my work contract of working non-stop, I’ve actually honestly only wanted to just enjoy my weekends for myself, get my life back to some sort of normalcy and then figure out my own personal issues. And I know I broke my promise to bring it back in November :( I have been searching for alternatives to Kast, since I did have the small hope that by November they’d have their web browser streaming working, but they don’t, which I don’t understand because, like, literally take Rabbit’s code and fix it for Kast’s servers?? Ugh. Alas, they don’t have it working yet. I’ve had a few people tell me that you can stream in discord, and reading up on it…. Not on a Mac, which is the most fucking bizarre thing I’ve ever seen. I get that PC’s are “the gaming machine” and they want to make sure that streaming works on PC, but like… can it not be implemented into a Mac? It’s SO WEIRD. So yeah. It will probably have to inevitably be done on Kast, but if the demand for the Saturday Night Watchalongs really isn’t there anymore (since a lot of the regulars have left… I have MAYBE 3 regulars who are still around and I totally would stream just for you guys), but there were some nights where it was just me for the entirety of the first movie, so *shrugs*

Anyway, yeah, right now, the desire to have my weekends for myself is stronger I think ONLY because I worked every fucking weekend for 3 months straight even when I was at home, and I just honestly want to enjoy the nice weekends we’ve been having.

I’ve been trying to compensate by using a lot more of my free time to provide you guys with a lot of Fic Rec Lists, because I like doing them and I make them anyway :)

Right NOW, I think I’m going to look at doing my annual Christmas Day stream, and perhaps start back up in the new year. I’m off for 2 weeks for Christmas, so that should give me some time to decide what I’m going to do with the Watchalong. I don’t want to get rid of it permanently, since it WAS a huge staple of the fandom for a long time and it was genuinely a lot of our social time. I might put out a survey to see what I can do to improve it, like changing the time to earlier or later for people, and if y’all only want one or two movies, or go back to the marathon of 3 movies (which, I’m going to be honest here, I liked at the beginning but near the end of me running 3 movies I was ready for bed after the second movie, hence me switching it to 2 movies and an hour earlier, LOL).

So yeah, there’s a LOT of behind-the-scenes work that goes into the Watchalong, and I was getting burnt out trying to plan it all the time and inevitably no one showing up. It was to the point where I wanted to only show Good Omens or Sherlock episodes every weekend because it would guarantee me at least 5 people coming, LOL. I just wasn’t ready for Rabb.it to pull the plug when it did because I was planning a celebratory “see you soon” final GO watchalong, and BLEH. Ah well.

So, TL;DR: Yes, it’s coming back, probably in the new year. No, I don’t know of any alternatives other than Kast, so if anyone has any that are web streaming (not twitch or picarto because I think streaming movies violates their TOS and I don’t want to be banned), and if you have a Mac and have streamed through Discord let me know, because that’s a new thing. But really if I’m going to make people use discord, I may as well tell them to use Kast instead, so *shrugs*. And I may have a poll in mid-December to find out if the interest for the watchalong is still there. If it’s not, then I’ll maybe only do one movie on a Saturday night every other Saturday. It was the feeling of being burnt out and over-worked that made me not start it back up again in November, so I do apologize for my fucked up brain.

OH, and a computer that fucking restarted itself whenever it felt like it was pissing me off too, so I just fucking couldn’t deal with THAT anymore.

Thank you so much Nonny for caring and for your interest in the watchalong. I really hope that your interest isn’t the only one, and I would like to see everyone again.

EDIT: Okay I’m dumb and can’t read... Kast DOES have WebBrowser support on Chrome!!! So YAY. I’ll check it out, and let you guys know soon :)

#steph replies #saturday night watchalong #my blog #chatting with nonnies #Anonymous

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nxnoire · 5 years ago

Text

Code Lyoko Miraculous AU Idea

Not sure if this has been done before but please hear me out.

If you don’t know, or need a refresher, Code Lyoko was an Italian (just been informed it’s French lol) show that aired like 15 years ago. Basically, a really smart guy invented an entire virtual world called Lyoko in a creepy abandoned factory. Apparently he also created this evil, really smart virus-like thing called XANA. It can affect the real world, turning people evil and even going so far as to bring monsters from Lyoko to the real world.

A group of 13-year-olds stumbled upon this computer in an abandoned factory and are like “hey cool let’s step into these sketchy tubes”. The nerd guy is like “lemme do some nerd stuff on my computer” and that’s all he does. The others, consisting of the creator’s daughter, the karate kid, kagami rip-off, and a pretty odd guy, go into Lyoko and fight XANA and his monsters to save the day. Then they basically use Second Chance to repair all of the damage done.

So anyway, the AU:

Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino, would make up the team of heroes.

Marinette would be the main character, of course. Much like Aelita, she would be the only one to deactivate towers (the only way to defeat XANA)

Marinette would have been trapped in Lyoko and also has to pretend to be Nino’s Canadian cousin to get into the school (is this not what she would do though)

She retains her power of Lucky Charm and her yo-yo while in Lyoko. Her ability to deactivate towers replaces her purification. Her Miraculous Ladybug is replaced by the computer’s ability to rewind time

Because they all get vehicles, Ladybug would probably just use her yo-yo like how Aelita uses her wings in the second half. In the flat areas like the Desert she would just catch a ride with someone else

Adrien would be the exact same. Literally nothing changed about him. He is still a rich model with over-protective guardians. Because this is a boarding school we’re talking about, he does, in fact, stay in the dorms, which only happened because of his intense begging. He ends up rooming with Nino and that’s how they became friends.

He retains his Cataclysm, staff, and cat tendencies in Lyoko. His vehicle would definitely be a skateboard. He wants to be a rebel.

Alya would also remain the same. She would work for the school newspaper and also run blogs for anything but Lyoko. Because everyone forgets the XANA attacks nobody would believe her. Besides, she has to keep Lyoko hidden

She rooms with Marinette and helps her learn the world around her

She retains her Mirage and flute in Lyoko. Her vehicle of choice would be whatever Yumi’s vehicle is. I’m not sure what you’d call it.

Nino would be the school’s DJ. He’d play music at all events and be known to recommend music to others.

He would retain his Shelter and shield in Lyoko. His vehicle would be the shield. He could ride it like a skateboard or a sled. The only problem would be the shield getting destroyed, in which case he would have no weapon as well.

The person running the computer would be none other than Max! He wouldn’t want anything to do with going to Lyoko but would happily use the computer. He was the one who stumbled upon it, after all.

He wasn’t going to tell anyone, but Adrien happened to meet him there while exploring the area. Adrien is a confused boy as always, but whatever Max doesn’t care because Adrien is baby

Then somehow Nino finds out through Adrien and is interested. Alya probably stalks the boys as they disappeared to the factory all the time and is added to the team for these reasons

The Heroes keep their Miraculous suits in Lyoko. They don’t have their kwamis, but the kwamis are underclassmen because this AU needs a Tikki and Plagg

Chloe would be Missy, the principal’s daughter. It fits so well. The crush on Adrien, too. This also means André Bougeouis is the principal, not the mayor. Her mother stays the same, being a fashion designer in New York

Sabrina is still Chloe’s follower

Mr. Damocles becomes a teacher somewhere in the school.

Mrs. Bustier and Mrs. Mendeleiev would remain as the teachers, keeping their respective roles.

Kim, Alix, Juleka, Rose, Nathaniel, Ivan, and Mylène (also Marc because we cant forget this baby) are still their classmates and are all friends with each other. Because all of these characters will probably get a Miraculous at some time, they are invited to Lyoko individually when someone is out to help the team out. Because they would remember what happened, they have to swear an oath to never tell anyone.

Kagami is the same, introduced as Adrien’s fencing opponent and a love rival

Luka fulfills the role of William. I won’t spoil what happens to him because it’s a pretty big moment, but please convince me he doesn’t fit the role. Who else could be the love rival between Marinette and Adrien that already goes to the school? (I don’t hate Luka at all, I just feel like he’s perfect for the looks and love rival role)

Jim (the Gym teacher) is still there because my man is the og. That one episode when he helped the Heroes out and accepted their secret, that was some good shit and you can’t replace him. He’s best teacher there convince me the fuck otherwise

Marinette, being very skilled in programming due to her father, often helps Max implement things such as their submarine and rebuilds Lyoko (for very spoilery reasons)

Gabriel is not Hawkmoth, obviously, and is not XANA, that’s for sure. However, I think it would be interesting if he was someone who worked with Marinette’s father and was the cause of XANA’s appearance just to keep his villain role.

Nathalie is still Gabriel’s assistant. She aids him by sneaking into the factory and deleting code programs they’ve created to defeat XANA, trying to stop the process of defeating him

The octopus-looking ass monster still wants to eat Marinette’s brains (what the fuck was it called)

Marinette’s mother was taken by the creepy black-suited dudes as well

Adrien’s mother is still missing. In this AU, she got really sick from testing the early Lyoko mechanics, which is why Gabriel wanted to make XANA

Adrien names all of the monsters, hence their horrible names

Lila also exists and makes Marinette’s life hell. She makes deals with Gabriel to try ruining Marinette’s life because she is the only known piece of Tom left

All of the akumas simply turn into situations that XANA creates. XANA either takes over their body or makes a disaster similar to their power. Stormy Weather would just be intense weather but Chameleon would remain the same. Akumas like Kwami Buster and Miraculer wouldn’t work and hence would not happen

That Null kwami that just sort of exists and we wish it didn’t? Yeah I feel like that should be one of the monsters. Either that or a physical manifestation of XANA instead of that weird black stuff he is

Feel free to add on, this was just me putting down my ideas.

Now I realize I need to rewatch this show. It’s been about 7-10 years and I miss it.

I’m like really sensitive about this show though because it was so unknown when I watched it. Nobody knew it and it had already died out so I was alone. However it seems there were still a few people who saw it so I have hope at least a few people like this idea. Maybe if it’s received well I’ll draw this.

#does anyone even remember this show?#it feels like a fever dream but no it was very much real #i think the world has either forgotten this show or just never seen it before #miraculous ladybug #ml #ml au #ml au idea

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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A romance for the books, chapter 1: Easy as A, B, C (branjie) - writworm42

A/N: A holiday gift for Holtz, who is the best ever. I’m putting it up now cause I got a lot of other projects going–because it’s multichap, this one will likely go into the new year. LOVE U HOLTZ <3

Thank you so, so much to Athena for beta-ing and helping me brainstorm!!! You’re the best and without your inside scoop on being a librarian, this fic never would have come to be! <3

It takes about thirty seconds for Brooke to spot her next perfect target.

It’s usually about simple math, a quick judge of character. Who sticks out just enough that it’s apparent they don’t come often, but not so much that they know it and would call Brooke out. Someone who knows the rough norms, but doesn’t care enough to follow them. Someone who’ll be just in and out , or who goes to the library solely as a place to pass time, not because they want to be there.

And this girl, well, this girl fits the bill to a T.

The girl is in shorts and a tank top–given that it’s about thirty-five degrees outside, and this is a neighbourhood where most apartments don’t have AC, it means the girl is probably one of those people looking for a cool place to go in the summer. Second, she comes in popping her gum and with music blasting through her earphones, meaning she either doesn’t know or doesn’t care for library etiquette. And when she walks up to the counter, she plunks down about five thin books, which likely means she reads to kill time, and probably doesn’t care too much for returning individual books before their due dates, as opposed to piling them up for whenever it’s convenient.

“I’d like to return these, please.” the girl smiles and bats her eyelashes, and Brooke smiles back warmly.

“Of course. Can I get your library card?”

It’s a shame; the girl is pretty, really pretty. Dazzlingly white teeth, round, dimples, and wide, friendly eyes all look back at Brooke, their owner looking at her expectantly, trustingly, even. But sometimes, the sweetest patrons make the easiest marks.

She grabs her scanner, scans the girl’s card, and begins to check in the books, her routine underway.

Check, click, beep, no problem.

The trick to a good con is to be unnoticeable. That’s why she started in the library–she’d been working there five years already, had her own system, designated scanner, computer, and accounts. She was so integrated into it, there was no way she could stick out in it.

Check, click, beep, no problem.

Take only little bits at a time. That was how it started, and that was the hardest thing to turn into a system; how much to take, from whom. How not to get caught. Every librarian on staff pockets late fees from time to time; when you’re a couple dollars short for lunch or you’ve forgotten your phone at home and need change for the payphone, the cashbox at the back of the customer service area is a tempting reserve. But that didn’t mean you could get greedy–you had to be sneaky, had to be covert. A target who wouldn’t fight, who would believe the late fees were theirs, in an amount that the til wouldn’t miss. Not too often, or people would suspect something. No, it was all a balancing game, one that took keen practice and cautious judgement.

Check, click–alarm.

Be quick with your hand. Brooke likes to use her own scanner, one she had outfitted with a trick button to trigger the flagging noise. She’d claimed the computer at the end of the line as her preferred one, making sure no one could see her screen. She wears long sleeves to pocket the change in. When she flags someone’s book, she mashes buttons on her keyboard quickly, programs in a believable, yet still somewhat inflated amount for the fine. Two, three dollars maybe, and put a small portion of that in the cashbox just to ward off suspicion.

Check, click–alarm.

Same thing, over and over, and then she moves on. That’s the most important rule, after all.

Never stay on one target too long.

Check, click, beep, no problem.

“So it looks like you have two fines.” Brooke puts down her scanner in its place right next to her computer, always within her view, handle down so and back to her so that no one can see the trick alarm button on it. “Late fees.”

“Late fees?” the woman’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her voice pointed. “What you talkin’ ‘bout, Mary?”

“Two of your books are late. These two.” she turns her computer and points at the two books, looking back at the woman smugly, and that’s when she realizes her mistake.

“I took those out only a week ago. Your computer’s broke,” the woman crosses her arms stubbornly. “‘Cause I should have three weeks to return them.”

Oh, fuck. Brooke turns the monitor back towards herself and takes a sharp breath in, trying to swallow the panic that’s quickly bubbling up in her chest, making her heart beat faster. The woman–Vanessa, Brooke sees when she glances down at the woman’s library card to see who she’s dealing with–is right. The books were only taken out a week ago. Brooke had underestimated her and gotten cocky.

It’s alright; it’s alright. She’s been caught like this before. She’s been challenged like this before. That’s the advantage of her system; if things go south, she can always blame the computer.

“Okay, I’ll strike the fees.” she forces her voice to stay light despite herself, despite the adrenaline coursing through her that’s making her whole body buzz. “Sorry about that; the computer must be off.”

“Yeah.” Vanessa eyes Brooke up and down, but there’s no suspicion in her eyes, only amusement. “That’s alright.”

Vanessa swipes her card back, then turns around to leave, and Brooke breathes out, thinking it’s over, when suddenly, the smaller girl turns back around.

“Say, what’s your name, Mary?”

“Lynn.” Brooke lies.

“No it’s not.” Vanessa grins, the amusement in her eyes turning into a full-blown, mischievous sparkle.

“It’s not.” Brooke admits, chuckling a little despite herself. As terrifying as it is, God, this woman is good.

“I’m not askin’ ‘cause I’m gonna tell.” Vanessa shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper as she leans in conspiratorially. “I’m askin’ ‘cause I wanna know for personal reasons.” she winks, and that’s when Brooke understands. She’s not dealing with anyone right now. No, she’s dealing with a professional.

Fuck.

“Brooke.” she admits, “My name is Brooke.”

“Alright, miss Brooke.” Vanessa nods, “I’m Vanessa, but you already knew that, ain’t you?”

Brooke doesn’t say anything else, only nods, feeling her mouth go dry.

It’s only after Vanessa flounces away that Brooke looks down on the counter and realizes that Vanessa’s left a scrap of paper behind.

A due date reminder slip for the two books Brooke had flagged, with a phone number scrawled on the back.

–

Vanessa has had her eye on Brooke for a while. She’s not the typical mark–she works in a library, for God’s sake, that’s not exactly big-bucks material. But she’s tall, and blonde, and there’s something about her that says she’s got more going on than Vanessa realizes.

Which means that at the very least, she’s someone that Vanessa can have fun with, if not draw in and use.

Vanessa’s by no means an amateur at this game. She’s been going in and out of it since she was in college, ever since she had bills to pay for the first time and job interviews she’d need fancy clothes for. After that, well, it was a bit of a habit–she’d acquired a taste for luxury, and a need for adrenaline, and her modus operandi suited both.

Find a girl who was just barely upper-class–not so rich she’d be suspicious, not so poor she’d be seriously impacted by Vanessa’s scam, and take her out for a few drinks. Get to know her. Play the bimbo. Forget her wallet a few times, just as a test to see how the girl would react. Then start asking for library late fees. A few dollars here and there, maybe once per month, just enough to pad her pockets for a few extra splurges at the mall when the mood struck. Then the bigger things–after enough late fees, enough time building up her image as a bookworm, the girls would usually start just buying her books, telling her this way she wouldn’t have to worry about fees. Not the most extravagant gifts, but ones that she could sell for a decent turnaround to college students looking to complete their class reading lists. That was the game, after all; never taking enough to raise suspicion, but just enough that she could walk into Pandora after each breakup and buy herself something nice for her troubles.

Besides, there was usually some decent sex to be had out of it, too.

So when she saunters up to Brooke after a week of watching unnoticed, ready to figure out the woman’s secret, find something she can exploit, she’s even more surprised than she thought she’d be.

Brooke’s skills are rough, that’s for sure. But she has potential. And Vanessa could use some potential on her team.

It’s only about two hours before she gets the text she’s been waiting for.

Hey, it’s Brooke.

She saves the number immediately, grinning to herself.

V: well hey miss Brooke

V: how u doin?

B: lol

B: I’m fine, thanks, you?

V: peachy.

There’s a pause, and Vanessa can’t help but wonder what Brooke is thinking, what her next move is going to be.

B: so why did you pick me?

Vanessa whistles, her grin widening further. Maybe she had underestimated Brooke after all; smarts aside, this chick is bold.

V: I like a girl who can stay on my level.

Another pause, and Vanessa holds her breath, her confidence dimming just a little.

B: I’ve seen Focus already. I know what you’re trying to do.

B: I work alone and you’re not getting any cut.

Vanessa’s grin fades completely, cockiness replaced with frustration and, she has to admit, just a tinge of anger. If it’s going to be like that, then it’s going to be like that–but she’ll be damned if she lets anyone call her out on shit, especially shit she had only half-planned to pull.

V: Fine.

V: But if you’re gonna work alone, at least don’t try to judge a mark by the length of their shorts. It’s the middle of August, bitch. IQ don’t come with air conditioning.

She tosses her phone onto her kitchen table and rockets up to grab herself a glass of water, still fuming once she settles down and grabs the book across from her, hoping an old favourite like Coraline will get Brooke out of her head.

It doesn’t, and so before she can even finish her chapter, she’s picked up her phone again, staring at the message on the screen in disbelief.

B: Fair point

B: Thanks for the tip.

–

Brooke is three beers deep at a coworker’s birthday party about a week later when she sees Vanessa stalking towards her from across the bar.

“This coincidence, or are you some kind of mastermind?” she sneers as Vanessa sidles up next to her, but the shorter woman only rolls her eyes.

“Coincidence, bitch. You ain’t that special.” her voice has a drunken lilt to it, and Brooke can tell she’s tipsy, that she’s got a good amount of liquid courage under her belt. That’s fine; so does does she. “Just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi.” Brooke snorts, and Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“Oh, Christ.” Vanessa sighs exasperatedly. “Look, Brooke, I barely suggested anything to you. You ain’t want it. Whatever. I ain’t out here to try and steal your thunder, we still run in different circles and your gig don’t have to be mine.”

“So why did you come over here, then?” Brooke eyes the shorter woman up and down, unconvinced. Vanessa wouldn’t have stuck her neck out like that if she wasn’t serious, if there wasn’t something motivating, something absolutely irresistible in it for her.

“‘Cause you may not want to work together, but you still sexy, mami.” Vanessa cocks an eyebrow, and Brooke can’t help but laugh.

“So let me get this straight. You wanted to work with me, now you want to sleep with me?” for all Brooke’s incredulity, though, Vanessa doesn’t seem even remotely shaken.

“I told you, I like a girl who can stay on my level.”

“Well, level yourself.” Brooke rolls her eyes. She’s just about to get up, just about to walk away, when a hand on her wrist stops her.

“Look, mami, I know I fucked up. I know I look like some kinda ass. But I seen the way you look at me. I know we got chemistry, and I know we both lookin’ for somethin’ better to do tonight than sitting here drinking lukewarm beer.”

Vanessa’s right; Brooke had been thinking of leaving, and truth be told, the longer Vanessa sits in front of her, the more seriously she’s considering Vanessa’s offer. It can’t be helped, not really–Vanessa’s smart , and bold, the exact kind of challenge that Brooke likes in a woman. She can tell she’s going to be a fun time already, and that’s before Brooke gets a good look at her, before she trails her eyes over Vanessa’s body one more time and sees everything that she failed to pay proper attention to the first time she saw her in the library. High cheekbones; dazzling teeth. A waist that has to be cinched, there’s no other explanation for how nice it is. And a bemused, plump-lipped smile that says that Vanessa knows exactly what Brooke is thinking, exactly what she’s about to say, and can’t wait to hear it.

She says a quick goodbye to her coworkers and rushes out of the bar on Vanessa’s heels, her stomach doing flip-flops and her body pulsing with a new sort of adrenaline and urgency that rivals even the thrill of getting away with a particularly hefty con.

–

Vanessa takes Brooke back to her place, mostly because Brooke insists on it—even with her tongue down Vanessa’s throat, she makes a show of her mistrust, whispering against Vanessa’s jawline that she’d better not try to steal anything.

It’s not like you’d have anything to steal. Vanessa bites back the retort, forces herself not to break whatever fragile, frenzied game they’ve got going. It’s a task that proves easier than Vanessa thought it would; all it takes is a couple of soft, sucking kisses to the nape of Brooke’s neck and the blonde melts, unable to form any words beyond more, more, Vanessa, please, more.

That’s more like it. Vanessa moves her hands slowly up Brooke’s body, taking her time to feel out every spot that makes her gasp, shiver, or whine, or all of the above, in the case of when Vanessa moves a hand up to Brooke’s neck, positions her grip in a V shape and presses down just lightly, just enough to make Brooke feel Vanessa right against her carotid arteries. Not enough to choke; just enough to command, to show her who’s in charge.

By the time they reach Vanessa’s apartment, scrambling to the elevator and hitting the wall to continue kissing and stroking and rutting against each other, Brooke is incoherent, and Vanessa is almost disappointed; she had really expected Brooke to challenge her a little more, try to talk back or regain control. Instead, Brooke is putty in her hands, flushed and breathless by the time the elevator arrives on Vanessa’s floor and they’re stumbling towards her door.

It’s only after Vanessa’s led Brooke towards the bedroom, though, that she remembers that Brooke is full of surprises.

“Whoops!” Brooke flips them around right as they’re about to fall onto the bed, throwing her weight enough so that Vanessa doesn’t have time to correct their positions before she hits the mattress, Brooke following on top of her.

“That’s more like it.” Brooke grins. She kisses Vanessa quickly on the lips, then starts to work her way down over Vanessa’s neck, marking it up with her teeth in a way that almost makes Vanessa forget everything around her except the feeling of Brooke’s mouth on her skin, licking and sucking and moving towards her collarbone. She brings a hand up to Brooke’s back, rakes her nails over it hard enough that she knows the blonde will feel it through her shirt, and it’s only when Brooke lets out an almost pitiful gasp at the sensation that Vanessa remembers who she is, what she’s doing, what she really wants.

Really, it’s Brooke’s fault for forgetting to pin Vanessa down; or maybe she’s just so used to winning, it’s never occurred to her. Either way, when Brooke’s mouth lifts from Vanessa’s chest, the smaller woman takes her chance to push her off and over onto the bed, once again flipping their positions. She’s careful to pin down Brooke’s wrists and box her in with her legs, scanning the older woman’s face for any signs of displeasure or worse, distress, but Brooke only smiles, relaxing a little, and Vanessa realizes that that’s exactly the reaction Brooke was trying to get all along.

“Brat.” Vanessa laughs, nipping Brooke’s neck and smiling at Brooke’s surprised yelp. “Your parents ain’t teach you to just ask for things you want?”

“If they did, then we wouldn’t have met.” Brooke smirks, and Vanessa has to hand it to her; she has a point.

“Cheeky bitch.” she hums before capturing Brooke’s lips in a kiss, one that finally melts any remaining tension between them, becoming soft and slow and thorough, almost exploratory. Vanessa lets go of Brooke’s wrists in favour of cupping her face, and this time, Brooke doesn’t fight–only lets her hands roam up Vanessa’s legs, over her thighs, coming to cup and squeeze the flesh of her ass over her skirt.

“You should take this off.” she breathes into Vanessa’s lips, and she’s right, it’s too damn hot, too damn uncomfortable, too damn in the way. They separate only long enough for Vanessa to shimmy out of her skirt and take her shirt off before coming back together, Vanessa’s hands stopping Brooke from pulling off her own dress.

“Let me do it.” she whispers, tracing her fingers over the hem, and this time, Brooke doesn’t fight. She only nods, lifting her arms to allow Vanessa to take her dress off and then ease her back on the bed, their bodies warm and pressed together.

After one last kiss, soft and sweet against Brooke’s jaw, Vanessa leans back, traces her eyes over every inch of Brooke’s body in an attempt to decide where she should start. It’s a task that proves incredibly difficult; truth be told, there isn’t an inch of Brooke that Vanessa doesn’t want to worship, not a single detail about her that isn’t worth extra attention. So Vanessa starts with a hand in her hair, not pulling but holding, feeling, letting the soft strands tickle against her fingers as she traces her other hand over the soft, sweat-sheened skin of Brooke’s chest, grabbing and kneading her breast through her bra.

“I, um–I actually–Sorry, but–” Brooke starts, and Vanessa rockets up, hands away, heart pounding.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Brooke shakes her head, and to Vanessa’s relief, she smiles, her eyes sparkling. “It’s just that this bra isn’t great for that, the underwire’s kinda stiff. Can you give me a sec to take it off?”

That’s it? Vanessa gives a relieved laugh, lifting herself off of Brooke long enough for the other woman to shimmy out of her bra. “Jesus, I was afraid I hurt you or something.”

“Hey, don’t laugh!” Brooke whines, swatting at Vanessa’s stomach playfully. It’s a gesture that earns her two hands on her wrists, pinning her down again as Vanessa grins.

“Listen, don’t worry about that, okay?” Vanessa kisses Brooke again, soft and reassuring. “I know plenty other ways to make you feel good.”

“Then show me.” Brooke’s eyes are hooded, her pupils wide with need. It’s tantalizing, but it doesn’t mean that Vanessa will just give things up–no, that would be to easy, not nearly enough fun.

“Only if you’re patient.” she smirks, and before Brooke can protest, she’s kissing her way down the blonde’s body again, stroking the inside of her thighs and smiling into Brooke’s skin when the older woman squirms.

“You want my hands or my mouth?” she asks, when she reaches the waistband of Brooke’s underwear, running a single finger down Brooke’s slit and shivering at how easily it glides, how slick and wet Brooke is even through the far-too-thick cotton fabric.

“Mouth, please…” she pants, and Vanessa doesn’t hold back any longer.

“Get up,” she instructs, licking her lips, “And take those off. I want you to sit on my face.”

Brooke doesn’t argue or make a show of stripping–only rushes to peel off her underwear before clambouring on top of Vanessa and eases down where Vanessa’s hands guide her to go, gasping with relief as Vanessa finally brings her mouth home, licking a stripe up Brooke’s slit all the way to her clit. It doesn’t take long–only a few minutes of licking, sucking, and grazing with her teeth, and soon, Brooke’s moans are becoming shorter, more high pitched, more desperate and frequent, and then she’s coming, barely keeping herself up as Vanessa continues to suck down on her clit through her orgasm. By the time she’s finally collapsing down next to Vanessa, still shaking, still breathless, Vanessa can tell she’s completely spent and sated, ready to sleep rather than go for a second round.

If it were anyone else, Vanessa would have been pissed, felt like it was unfair; but now, cradling Brooke in her arms, kissing her forehead like it’s familiar territory she’s kissed hundreds of times before, she finds herself completely satisfied.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #smut #a romance for the books #writworm42

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ab-memoria · 6 years ago

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Long post-

Hey guys...(J&D Fandom)

... I like all the AU's and UA's so many of you have come up with so I came up with one too!! Anyone think brainwashed KG!Keira would dope?

Heartache for days ya know!!!... 😢 AND because I love to suffer I figured I'd share my AU idea with all of youuu!!!

****

So for this idea Jak would be pretty much be the same except along the way to getting revenge on the Baron he has to face off against his long lost friend Keira a la Bucky Barnes style. -

Dark Eco Warrior vs. Mind Controlled Super Solider kinda deal!!!!

Ok since Jak's been on a one man campaign to take on the Baron and Erol, he hasn't looked for Keira or Samos at all. He has no idea if they are alive or dead but hasn't given up on the idea of finding them one day. Daxter hasn't seen Keira or Samos either but he knows they have to be alive somewhere and that they'll find them when the time is right...

Then while getting set up for a new mission Torn reveals that the KG have a strange and powerful fighter in their ranks and while Jak is initally dismissive his interests are peaked at the prospects of facing a new enemy. Whoever this new fighter was Jak was going to make them regret messing with him if they decided to do so...

Some time passes and while on a different mission for the Underground to destroy a secret supply line Jak accidentally meets the mysterious new fighter.

... And his heart sinks at the revelation that it's his missing friend. He recognized those eyes the very moment they locked onto his. Why the fuck was she working for the Guard!!!

Jak's pissed, the sweet and sassy girl from the village was gone and had been replaced with some kind of solider, this wasn't the girl he knew but he has his orders and... he can't. Not her - anyone else would be easy to kill but not her...

So while our darkboi is having a quiet mental breakdown Keria raises her weapon at her target and sends out several shots... Quickly recovering from his shock Jak goes down to face Keria then all hell breaks loose they have themselves a good old fashioned gu ...?!?!?Channeler battle!?!?

``````

So our boi Jak isn't going to be able to mentally deal with the reality that he might have to kill the girl he spent his entire childhood playing with. And that's unfortunate because Keira isn't going to give him much of a choice. She is Alpha now and her objective is clear. Take out Subject Delta - the only survivor of the D.W.P. and then destroy the Underground once and for all.

Lol So pretty much our fav tech head is gonna be an experimental soldier created in secret to take on Jak, she was made as a back up plan to the D.W.P. which would have been a solid idea if the Baron was wise enough to have done it.

But as for the inspiration it was a tie between the Underground!Erol tag and the cutscene in Daxter with Erol and Veger about how everyone except Jak died from Dark Eco that made me think about an alternative warrior.

So our villain in the AU is going to be Veger because of course, he has his obsession with light eco and not liking the D.W.P. to begin with. That alone would give him a reason to have a back up plan in case Jak failed. To show Erol up and to have his own solider at his beck and call.

My plot plan was that he found Keira through some old security camera recordings. He was trying to look for the missing Kid by retracing his steps but he accidentally saw Keira be spat out from the blast that Jak also came from. So Veger had his goons look for her to take in. She was in the process of rebuilding the Rift Rider at the Stadium so Veger has his lackeys take that too and even if she can't channel he know she can be broken enough to be of some use.

It's a win-win for him.

The Underground deems her a high level threat at some point and they want Jak to take her out. But Jak can't disconnect the girl from the solider. And Older Samos can't find it in himself to have his own daughter killed. So it leaves them at a stand still on what to do about the girl which is perfect for the Baron because he isn't going to lose his newest and most effective solider anytime soon.

Then Ashelin gets put with Keira for some time and it quickly becomes apparent to Ashelin that something isn't right with her new squad memeber and she begins to investigate Keira's origins. After a short time the red head finds secret documents through an old corrupted computer server detailing parts of Keira's creation. It becomes a moral dilema to Torn ... Can he order the execution of a 16 year old brainwash girl?

Unfortunately Veger isn't stupid enough to leave anything incriminating that would lead back to him so for a while he's not suspected of anything.

But he's not without a plan in case Keira also fails.

Several Key Phrases have been ingrained in Keira's mind to keep her under control but there is also memory wipe code that will partially remove traces of the solider program so she won't be able to recall anything from before she was taken. It's a fail safe incase anyone thinks about using her with the current codes. Her mind can be reset with new codes and phrases later on.

----

Her powers might be Light Eco based or the original red, blue, green, yellow set with advanced powers I'm not dead set on it cause I'm trying to figure how much plot I can take from Jak 3 for this.

Maybe Seem found an opened Light Eco vent at the Monk Temple and Veger used that to create his own light warrior or that Veger discovered that the four colors combined make a synthetic light eco type?

And apart from being Veger's new toy she also creates weapons for the KG and the Baron. So the new armored Hellcats, guard armor, and mini deathbots were made by her in this AU which would be cool as heck.

So these were my thoughts and if you wanna talk J&D with me you can totally message me here. ❤

#jak and daxter #keira hagai #jak mar #KG!Keira #AU's and such #ab-memoria #plot buns and such #just an au idea i had #pls let me know if you think its a fun story idea :D

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xbaepsae · 6 years ago

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heartbeat | part two (m)

“You want to be angry with him, hate him; but you can’t. And why is this? It’s stupid, but the truth—because your heart still steadily beats for him, despite you not wanting it to.”

[musician!yoongi x reader | jeongguk x reader]

genre: angst, smut

word count: 13.5k

a/n: & here is part twoooo. the final part of heatbeat. going back and rereading this series has made me get the feels all over again lmao. i hope you guys enjoy this and thank you to everyone who left messages on part one--they were all really sweet! xoxo

part one | part two

To say that confusion plagues your mind would be a total understatement. Because honestly, what the hell was your life?

You think about the cards fate has dealt you and you’re speechless; life was absolutely cruel and merciless in the way it had treated you. First of all, you were cursed to love someone who did not love you back. But secondly, you learned to move on and you met someone else who made you smile. However, and thirdly, life wasn’t done with you yet and now has you questioning everything you’ve believed for yourself.

Although you aren’t sure about many things, one certain thing is that you love Jeongguk—you really do. He is the sun and so, so good to you. But as present as the sun is in your life, there is a shadow that is Yoongi. And with him, comes the love that you thought you had buried long ago.

It has resurfaced once again.

***

“What time do you get off tonight?”

You turn around and see a disheveled Jeongguk standing in the doorway of your bedroom. As he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, you can’t help but briefly think about how adorable he is. “My shift is short today; I get off around four.”

He nods, “Want to grab an early dinner?”

“Don’t you have a job of your own?” you muse, reaching to grab your house keys.

“All I do is program computers and shit all day,” he says taking steps closer to you. “Besides, I’d rather hang out with my favorite person.”

You smile when he’s close enough to wrap his arms around your waist. “And who might that be?”

He smiles down at you and leans to press a chaste kiss to your lips, “Her name is y/n, have you met her?”

“Lucky girl,” you say and look at the clock to see that you’re already running late. “I’ve got to go. But if I see her, I’ll make sure to let her know.”

Jeongguk kisses you one last time before letting you walk out the door.

Your walk to the music store doesn’t take very long and you make it there just as your shift is about to start. Clocking in, you greet your manager before walking out into the front of the store. There, you begin to organize the various music racks and add the newest CDs in the standing displays. You’re nearly done when you hear the door chime open. Looking in the direction of the door, you smile widely.

“Hello, welcome—” you begin to greet whoever walked in, but you suddenly stop and find that the words are lost to you when you see a flash of pink hair.

“Y/n?”

You struggle to breathe properly, “Y-Yoongi.”

He lets the door close behind him and walks closer to you. “What are you doing here?”

“I work here.” You point to the nametag on your shirt for him and offer an awkward smile. He stares at your nametag for a brief second before raising his eyes back to yours.

“Have you been working here long?”

“Just a little over a year,” you say, playing with the album in your hands. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to buy a few of my albums,” he says, and your immediate response is to ask why. “Because everywhere I go I like to buy a few, sign them, and give them to fans who maybe don’t have the money to purchase one. You know, especially since those fans used to be me.”

You watch as Yoongi walks to the alphabetized racks and grabs every one of his CD’s off the shelf. He walks to the checkout desk and you follow, ringing up the albums. You let him know the total price and he hands you the money to pay for it. Throughout this entire exchange, neither of you really talk. And although you don’t know what to say, you wonder what is rolling through his mind right now.

“Can I have a sharpie?” he asks and you rummage through a few containers and hand him one.

As he signs each album with his stage name Suga, you can’t help but ask, “Why are you here?”

He stops writing, “I’m buying—”

“No,” you interrupt, “why are you here? Why are you home?”

Yoongi caps the sharpie and looks at you, “Why? Am I not allowed to come back home?”

He holds your gaze for what seems like an eternity. And under his scrutiny, you feel so incredibly exposed. Yoongi has always been able to read you well; from all the years of your friendship, no one knows you better than him. Whether that was a good or bad thing, you really didn’t know anymore.

“That night in the club,” you begin and his eyes darken, “you said that you missed me, is that true?”

“I told you it was true,” he sighs.

“Then why didn’t you call me?”

You don’t remember how many times you asked him that question when you saw him for the first time again, but you just wanted to know exactly why.

He runs a hand over his face, “Because I was a coward, is that what you want me to say?”

“But you promised me,” you say through shaky lips.

Yoongi looks away from you, down to the CD in front of him. “I’m not proud of many decisions in my life, but I’m not lying when I say I regret not calling or coming back to see you.”

And as much as you try to suppress the growing pressure in your chest, you struggle and sense the overbearing urge for tears to spill over. You clench your hands into tight fists and feel the beginnings of deep crescent indentations in your palms.

You wanted to believe Yoongi, you really did. But you remember how hurt and depressed you were when he left; it’s an experience that you’ve tried to put behind you, but it never seems to go away. His departure from your life has changed you immensely, and you aren’t the same person he once knew before.

“You can say that you miss me all you want, but I wasn’t kidding when I said that I’ve moved on. I really did get tired of waiting.” Yikes. Even your own words sound harsh to your ears.

He looks back up, jaw tightening. “Yeah, I saw you leave with that guy.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” you correct him.

“I thought you said that you loved me,” Yoongi says, slamming the permanent marker down on the counter.

“I thought you said that you didn’t feel the same way.” And your words cause him to stop, taking a step away from you. Just as Yoongi moves away from you, you hear footsteps coming close and you turn to see your manager. You bow immediately, preparing to be scolded.

“Y/n, what is going on out here?” your manager asks, crossing his arms. But before you can explain the situation, Yoongi speaks up.

“It’s my fault, sir,” he says with a bow. “Y/n didn’t do anything wrong.”

Recognition spreads across your manager’s face, “Aren’t you Suga?”

“I am,” Yoongi nods and holds out a hand, “nice to meet you.”

“I can’t believe Suga is here in my store,” your manager looks down to see the signed CD’s in front of him, “and you’re signing albums!”

Yoongi smiles, “It’s nothing, really. I actually like to purchase my albums and give them out.”

“It’s everything!” your manager smiles before turning to you. “Y/n, you can leave.”

Your mouth drops, “What?”

“I think you have caused Suga enough trouble for the day.”

This is unbelievable. What did you do wrong? If anything, he should ask Yoongi to leave since he was distracting you from work. “Then, who is going to work?”

“I’m thinking a last minute meet-and-greet, what do you think Suga?” your manager looks at Yoongi expectantly. But you see that his eyes have gone wide. “Therefore, I can handle everything.”

“Wouldn’t a meet-and-greet mean needing more help?” Yoongi suddenly asks. “I mean, you can’t possibly do everything on your own.”

For a moment, you think that maybe his mind has been changed; however, your manager just waves him off, “Nonsense, I have a new hire coming in today around two.”

“Is that why my hours have been shit?” For the past month or so, you’ve started noticing that you haven’t been working as much as before. You thought that maybe it was because business was just slow, but now you know the real reason.

“Your per cap sales have been declining lately y/n…”

You nearly fall back from this news. Ever since you started working here, you have given it your all and this was how your manager repaid you? How unfair. And now you were being replaced with a new employee. Your hands begin to tighten again before a string of words leave your lips. “I quit.”

“Y/n!” Yoongi calls your name, sounding concerned. But you don’t even look at him. Instead, you rip the nametag off your shirt and drop it on the floor before running to the back to grab your things.

With your bag in your hands, you briskly walk towards the front doors and push it open. You are greeted with bright sunshine, but you feel like shit. Pulling out your phone you press the messenger app and begin typing.

10:58 AM | You: i just quit lol

Within seconds, you see the text bubble pop up.

10:58 AM | Jeongguk: WHAT

10:59 AM | You: long story…heading home

10:59 AM | Jeongguk: want me to head over?

10:59 AM | Jeongguk: i can bring some take out

You smile at his message.

10:59 AM | You: nah it’s okay

11:00 AM | You: you’re probably busy

11:00 AM | You: come over after work

11:01 AM | Jeongguk: okay babe. hope you’re okay

And then he proceeds to send a bunch of emojis that have you laughing. Your only reply to them is a smile and you stick your phone into your bag.

You find yourself waiting at a stoplight when it suddenly hits you: you don’t have a job anymore. This was definitely reckless and totally unlike you—at least, the person you were trying to be now. You haven’t always had your life figured out, but at least you kind of had a direction you wished to go in. Now, you were simply headed into the unknown. The light is still red when you suddenly feel a hand press onto your shoulder. You turn around and realize that Yoongi is inches away from you.

“Why did you quit?” he asks, breathing heavily.

Your eyes are wide, but you just shrug. “It just felt right, I guess.”

“God, y/n,” he sighs, dropping his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be there? I mean, you know for the impromptu meet-and-greet.”

Yoongi scratches the back of his ear, “I may or may not have cursed that guy out for letting you just walk away.”

“You did what?” you ask, not really understanding him.

“Let’s just say, I’m never going back to that music store again,” he shakes his head. “I also kind of stole these.”

You look down and see a few albums in Yoongi’s other hand. At first, you want to remind him that he already paid for his albums; but then you realize the albums aren’t his own—they’re from different artists and were on the standing displays. Suddenly, you don’t know what comes over you but you burst into laughter. In fact, you laugh so hard you nearly fall over onto the pavement. But fortunately for you, your body doesn’t hit the floor; Yoongi catches you before you can.

“I’ve missed your laugh, y/n,” he says, eyes boring into yours.

Your face flushes and words are lost to you. And you swear Yoongi is leaning closer to you, but he freezes when a phone begins ringing. He pulls away and you realize that it’s your own ringtone and frantically search your bag. Once you find it, you realize Jeongguk is calling you.

“Jeongguk?” you answer and Yoongi visibly tenses up in front of you.

“Y/n, hey. Are you home yet?”

You scrunch your eyebrows once, “No…not yet. Why?”

“Well,” he breathes, “you said we should just meet later, but I couldn’t help it.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“Turn around.”

You hesitate, not so sure what he means; but you do end up turning around and see Jeongguk standing on the other side of the street. He drops the phone from his ear and waves to you with a bright smile. And although you should be mad that he’s ditching work to see you, you smile back anyway.

The street lights end up turning green and he jogs over to you. Once he reaches you, he pulls you into a hug and presses a kiss against your forehead. Warmth fills your insides immediately at his touch and you squeeze him back, but you’re pulled back into reality when someone coughs behind you. You move away from Jeongguk and look at Yoongi; in a short span of time, his eyes have narrowed into slits and his jaw has tensed up.

“Jeongguk this is Yoongi…” you hesitate, “an old friend.” At that moment, you realize you’ve never mentioned Yoongi to Jeongguk before. “And Yoongi this Jeongguk, my boyfriend.”

Both men look at one another before Jeongguk’s eyes round in interest, “Hey, aren’t you that rapper Suga?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi’s body becomes a little less tense. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Jeongguk replies, looping an arm around your waist. He looks down at you with a smile, “Ready to go?”

You blink, “Sure.”

With that, Jeongguk tells Yoongi goodbye and pulls you away. You look back at Yoongi once and see that he has already begun walking in the opposite direction. So, you look forward and try to shake this entire situation away. But if you would have looked back again, you would’ve seen Yoongi stop walking and turn around only to meet the gaze of Jeongguk.

If you would have looked back again, you would’ve seen the two of them share a look that screamed whatever just happened between the three of you, was only the beginning.

***

Jeongguk ends up taking you to his place, where you know for a fact that there is no food at all. The reason you had this knowledge was because if he was hungry, he ordered pizza or came over to your apartment. He didn’t cook very much, so why need food at all?

“Damn, we should’ve grabbed food on the way here,” you say as you step through his front door.

“We can grab food later,” he says, throwing his keys onto a table next to the door.

You shut the door behind you with a nod and proceed to take your shoes off. Just as you kick your shoes to the side and place your bag next to Jeongguk’s keys, he picks you up as if you weigh nothing and throws you over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eye-to-eye with his ass—it was a very nice ass, by the way.

But your boyfriend doesn’t say a thing and before you can become too lightheaded, you’re suddenly flipped onto his bed. You lean up on your forearms and blow a few strands of hair out of your face. And as you do so, you notice Jeongguk leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. It’s a bit unexpected, but not unwanted; you respond back and move your lips against his own.

He lifts his lips off of yours after a bit and begins trailing kisses down your chin, to your jaw, and then to your neck. Jeongguk begins to softly suck on the skin below your ear before whispering, “I want you.”

And although his voice does send your body into a frenzy, you’re confused. “It’s literally noon, Jeongguk…and you’re horny?”

He doesn’t say a thing, only softly nuzzling his head against the crook of your neck.

“Jeongguk,” you say his name again, “what the hell?”

With your words, he stops and roughly snaps his head up. The sultry eyes that had stared at you just moments before have now narrowed, becoming closed off and cold. Jeongguk separates himself from you, moving a few steps from his bed. This newfound space allows you to sit up and fix your shirt that has unknowingly slipped up a bit. As you fix your hair, you realize that Jeongguk is still giving you that look. You ask him what’s wrong and he rolls his eyes at you.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he scoffs. “You should be asking yourself that.”

You scrunch your eyebrows. “What?”

“Why don’t you want to have sex?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“Like I said, it’s noon…and I’m hungry,” you widen your eyes, not understanding him right now. Jeongguk and you have never argued about being intimate with one another, so you’re confused as to why it has suddenly become an issue.

“Is this because of Yoongi?”

Now your eyes are really wide, “What the fuck, Jeongguk?”

“How do you even know him?”

You can’t believe that he is really bringing Yoongi up right now. “I told you that he was an old friend of mine.”

Jeongguk’s hard gaze doesn’t waiver, “Then why have you never talked about him before? I mean, I’ve told you about all my friends. I figured you would tell me about yours too, considering the fact that he’s kind of famous.”

“I haven’t talked to him in years; why would I bring him up?”

“I don’t know, y/n,” he begins to raise his voice, “I just want us to be honest with one another.”

You clench your fist into the bedsheets. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Really?” Jeongguk stares at you like he knows you’re hiding something from him, and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. He needs to let this subject go.

“I’ve already argued with Yoongi today, I don’t need shit from you too.”

“Oh,” you can hear the mockery in Jeongguk’s voice, “so the two of you have that close of a relationship.”

“Why do you even care?” you practically yell, feeling frustrated.

Not only are you becoming increasingly mad at him, but you’re also mad at yourself. Why can’t you just tell Jeongguk everything? What is holding you back? Everything was becoming too much, and you don’t know how much longer you can suppress the growing turmoil inside of you.

“Because you’re my girlfriend,” he says it like it’s so simple, and it honestly should be. You don’t know why it feels so complicated to you.

“Then you should care about me, and not us having sex or Yoongi.”

His jaw visibly tightens, “Well, that’s kind of hard when I saw the way he looked at you.”

Your breathing stops momentarily; he saw that? When? You think back to your interactions with Yoongi and when Jeongguk could’ve possibly seen anything, and you realize he must be talking about when he met up with the two of you on the street earlier. And suddenly, you feel embarrassed at how wrong things must’ve looked to him—how close Yoongi had been to you, and all.

“It was nothing,” you say, getting off the bed and walking out of the room.

Jeongguk follows you into the living area. “It wasn’t just nothing, y/n.”

“Let it go, Jeongguk.”

“I’m not fucking blind, y/n,” his voice getting louder by the minute.

“I said let it go!”

“It wasn’t nothing because it’s the same way I look at you.”

You stop where you are and nearly fall to the ground at his words. You feel dizzy, disorientated; like you can’t see anymore and the world has just collapsed onto your shoulders. You can barely breathe. You can’t think. It’s like everything you have been keeping buried inside has suddenly exploded.

Silence seems to pass infinitely between you and Jeongguk, neither one of you know what to say. But you do turn around and see all the emotions that pass through his eyes—anger, confusion, hurt. And you can’t begin to catch them all.

“I…” you don’t even know how to begin to explain everything. You bring a hand up to swipe a few loose strands of hair behind your ears and notice something hot and wet pooling beneath your eyes and down your cheeks. How pathetic of you to be crying right now.

“What is he to you, y/n?” Jeongguk’s eyes are wide, voice demanding to be answered.

You try to find the words to say that Yoongi means nothing to you anymore, but they’re completely lost to you. Besides, it would be a lie to say that you no longer harbored feelings for the man who once broke your heart. Everything was too confusing and you just don’t know what to do. So you run. Slipping your shoes on, you grab your things and bolt out of Jeongguk’s apartment. And as you run, he calls out your name but you don’t stop to hear what he has to say or if he’s even following you.

As you make it onto the street, you’ve nearly forgotten the reason you ended up there in the first place: you don’t have a job anymore. And the reality of how fast everything has changed in the last few hours is enough to make you curse the world and horrible it is.

***

You don’t answer any of the phone calls from Jeongguk.

But it’s not like you really even know if he calls anyway, especially since your phone ran out of battery two—maybe three; you’ve lost track—days ago and you haven’t bothered to charge it. If you were being honest with yourself, you haven’t been doing much of anything at all. Day after day, you find yourself stuck in bed. You can’t remember what day it even is, how much time has passed—or the last time you even showered. It’s like you have lost all motivation to do anything, and that includes talking to your boyfriend…was he even that to you anymore?

From the closed door of your bedroom, and underneath all your covers, you swear you hear knocking at the door at least three times a day. Do you get up to answer it though? You don’t budge a muscle. Although you don’t see who’s at the door, a part of you knows that it’s Jeongguk; however, you can’t bring yourself to face him.

You feel stupid, really. Mainly because somewhere in your mind, you thought that you could just live your life with Jeongguk. It seemed simple in your head; he obviously loved you and you felt the same way—so why was it suddenly not what you had previously imagined? This game of house the two of you have been playing for the past few months did not include Min Yoongi walking back into your world.

Yeah, you feel really stupid. And you’re such a coward. Yoongi had called himself a coward earlier, but now you believe that perhaps you’ve been the real coward all along.

Also, it didn’t help that you quit your job at the music store—that move was even stupider. Now, you don’t have a thing to do; it was both a great feeling and the absolute worst thing ever.

“Great job at fucking everything up, y/n,” you say to no one but yourself.

Although life was currently pretty sucky, you had much to weigh on your plate. You kind of need another job; you had some money saved up, but that can only last so long. Also, you realize that you can’t stay cooped up in your room forever. Eventually, you have to talk to Jeongguk again and sort out what happened.

So you finally pull yourself out of bed and plug your phone to its charger. Walking to the bathroom, you switch on the lights and proceed to strip out of your clothes and hop into the shower. You let the hot water wash away whatever has been plaguing your mind these last few days. And when you’re done, you get out and brush your teeth. As you do this, you stare at yourself through the fogged mirror; despite being in bed for the past however long, a person with dark eye bags stares back at you.

Who have you become?

You barely recognize this person you see in the mirror.

But before you can stare too long at yourself, you hear a series of rings and vibrations coming from your room. Your phone has turned back on and those are all the messages and missed calls you’ve received.

Walking back to where your phone lays on the floor, you sit down and pick it up—that’s when you notice that it’s just past eight in the morning. And this morning alone, Jeongguk has called you five times. You scroll through the older notifications and see that he’s called and texted every day since you ran out of his apartment, which was almost five days ago. Fuck—you were MIA longer than you originally thought.

You click through the messages and notice that they’re all pretty much the same.

11:08 PM | Jeongguk: i’m sorry

11:09 PM | Jeongguk: call me back

12:01 AM | Jeongguk: i miss you

02:22 AM | Jeongguk: i fucked up

All the messages revolve around those four phrases and you’re speechless for a second. It seems like there are hundreds and hundreds of messages from him. You switch to the phone app and realize that there are equally the same amount of voicemails waiting for you.

You listen to a few of them before deciding that you should probably just call him back. The phone rings only twice before he picks up, “Y/n?”

His voice sounds melancholic and rushed, and your heart aches a bit at the fact that you’ve hurt him.

“Y/n?” he repeats your name, much softer this time.

You clear your throat before answering, “Hey.”

“I was beginning to think you’d never call.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, bringing a band up to run through your damp hair. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything!” he immediately says. “I shouldn’t have brought that subject up—you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want me knowing.”

Fuck, why is he like this? Always so good to you. “No, I should tell you things like that. I was wrong for not saying anything and overreacting.”

“Forgive me?” he asks you.

“Of course,” you reply, “the real question is: will you forgive me?”

And for some reason, you know he’s smiling on the other side of the phone. “Always; I love you.”

Your heart skips a beat, “Love you too.”

“Hey, meet me for coffee in an hour?”

“Sure,” you say, nodding even though he can’t see you.

He suggests a café that you’re familiar with, which you agree to meet at, and then says he’ll see you later. You return the sentiment before hanging up the phone. And after you do, you drop the device from your ear and release a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

You take a minute to compose yourself before getting up. As you do this, you suddenly remember you’re still only wrapped in a towel. You quickly move towards your closet and open it up. Jeongguk wanted to meet in an hour, which really didn’t give you much time to get ready at all. You get the chance to glance through all the various clothing items in your closet once before you hear your phone vibrate again.

A curse leaves your lips at the fact that Jeongguk probably texted you again. Did he change his mind? Did he still want to be mad at you? Rushing back to your phone, you pick it up and the name that lights up your screen isn’t the person you thought. It was actually a text from Yoongi, which makes you want to curse even louder.

You contemplate about what to do before deciding to see what his text says. It was shocking enough that he even still had your number saved onto his phone. You thought that after he made the move to Seoul, he would’ve gotten a new phone and number. That would’ve made you feel better about the fact that he never contacted you. Pushing past that fact, you swipe at his name and read over his text.

08:36 AM | Yoongi: hey y/n, idk if this is still your number…but if it is, watch channel 4 tonight around 9 if you want a better explanation than the shitty ones i’ve given you.

A better explanation.

It would be a lie to say you weren’t even vaguely interested in whatever Yoongi was trying to pull by sending this text because you really want to hear what he has to say. Even though you keep questioning why and begging for answers that aren’t being given, a part of you has already forgiven him for doing all of this to you. You want to be angry with him, hate him; but you can’t. And why is this? It’s stupid, but the truth—because your heart still steadily beats for him, despite you not wanting it to.

***

This feels so weird. Your nerves are buzzing and you can’t seem to stop fidgeting with the cup of coffee in your hands.

The fact that you’re even nervous annoys you; this is Jeongguk—the person who has seen all sides of you. You shouldn’t feel so anxious, but you are and you don’t know what to do with yourself. Checking your phone, you notice that it’s just a bit past nine-thirty; which is the time Jeongguk wanted to meet up.

You arrived at the quaint little café earlier than you were supposed to, ordering two coffees and settling yourself in a small corner of the room. Business is relatively slow; there isn’t anyone else here besides you and the barista—except for the random person that walks in, ordering a coffee to-go. So you sit there and stir your coffee, waiting for Jeongguk to walk in. And every time the door chimes open, your eyes fly to where bits of sunlight pool in and expect to see him there but he isn’t.

Soon, nine-thirty becomes nine-forty-five, and nine-forty-five becomes nearly ten o’clock. And he still isn’t here. You’re becoming more and more restless at this point.

Then, your phone rings and Jeongguk’s name lights up your screen.

“Where are you?” are the first words out of your mouth as you accept his call.

You hear him sigh on the other side, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” you aren’t sure you’re hearing him right.

“Something came up and I can’t make it to the café.”

Jeongguk begins to explain that he has to go to work to fix an issue, which means you’ve been waiting at this café all this time for no reason. He apologizes profusely, promising to meet you another time. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure,” you try to force a smile through your words, although you can feel your body trembling a bit. “That’s fine.”

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he apologizes again before hanging up, and you’re left feeling even more alone than before.

You set your phone down and bury your face into your hands. This day was not turning out the way you had hoped. You imagined yourself spending the day with Jeongguk, explaining your entire situation to him. And in your head, he takes the whole conversation well and everything is okay. But now—now you don’t know if you’re going to get to explain yourself at all.

The anxiety you felt just minutes ago is now replaced with a tinge of annoyance—you’re annoyed at Jeongguk, but mostly at yourself for finally getting out of bed and coming here only to be disappointed.

After finishing up your coffee, you throw the second wasted cup away and bid the barista goodbye before walking out of the café. You could stay annoyed and disappointed in that café, but the day was rather beautiful so you decide to leave.

Maybe the day will turn for the better.

***

You end up taking a walk by the river for a while before going into the city to scout for new jobs.

Although you don’t find many openings that interest you, you pick up a few brochures detailing a life abroad which you do find rather intriguing.

By the time you return home, the sun is just beginning to set and you feel much better than when your day first started. You make yourself dinner and then settle yourself on your couch, switching your tv on. That’s when you remember it’s Tuesday, the day you and Jeongguk usually dedicate as movie night.

This thought pangs you a bit and you briefly consider calling him, but you stop yourself and pick a random movie to watch instead. As the movie rolls through the previews, you take a moment to scroll through your phone and delete all the notifications from Jeongguk that you haven’t touched. And as you’re about to delete the ones from today, you see Yoongi’s name in bold and remember that he wanted you to do something.

Checking the time, you’re relieved to see that it’s five till nine and you have time. You change the TV from movies to regular cable and scroll until you find the one he was talking about. And when you find it, your eyes go wide and you immediately turn the volume up.

It was a music show in your city that many other famous artists have gone and performed on, and now Yoongi was a guest. You vaguely remember him talking about the show years ago, and how one day he wanted to perform on the same stage as so many have before him. The fact that he has achieved this brings a smile to your face.

Is this what he wanted you to see? How leaving for Seoul was actually the best for him?

Suddenly, you feel a bit selfish for your thoughts. All you’ve ever wanted was for Yoongi to reach his dreams; how could you be mad at him for leaving to pursue that?

You watch as he lifts the mic to his mouth and begins to speak, “Good evening, everyone.”

The audience in that room cheers for him and he smiles wide, the curve of his lips revealing his gummy smile that you haven’t seen in forever. You can’t help but smile wider too, the joy blooming from him is contagious.

“I’m going to be performing a new song,” the crowd screams louder, “and I wrote it for an old friend of mine…who means the world to me. I was just bad at expressing how I felt, and I hope you will forgive me.”

As Yoongi says this, he looks straight into the camera and in that instant, you can’t look away.

“I’m also going to invite a singer because you know, I rap,” Yoongi says as someone you don’t recognize walks on the stage, settling into the far left. “This is Seokjin, a friend I made in Seoul.”

You watch the young man, who has wide eyes and an angelic smile, wave to the crowd. And then the music begins.

“I empty my drink but it gets filled with loneliness. I should’ve just given in, why did I argue all the time?” Yoongi raps, voice filled with passion and you can’t look away from him. He has you trapped in his spell. “I can only see you. I can only see you alone.”

Is Yoongi talking about…you?

“Hold me tight, hug me. Can you trust me? Can you trust me? Can you trust me?” Seokjin sings. “Without you, I can’t breathe. I’m nothing without you.”

And immediately you flashback to reckless eighteen-year-old you running down by a bridge, with Yoongi trailing behind you. He was laughing his ass off at you and god, who even remembers what bullshit you were spewing. But what do you remember is that you wanted to feel the breeze in your hair. That meant you had to climb on the railing of the bridge, yet you hesitated.

“I’ll help you,” Yoongi offered and you slowly climbed up.

“I better not fall off into my death, Min Yoongi.”

“Can you trust me?” he whispered as he clutched you tightly. And you also remember that you felt extremely flushed at that time, warmth pooling through you from his touch.

“I think of you without stopping. I hate it all, I hate every single day. It makes me cry,” Yoongi raps and your mind focuses back on the present time.

For some unknown reason, you begin to feel tears pool underneath your lashes. Were you seriously crying right now? It was just the lyrics that are making you emotional…right?

“If there’s a chance, I’ll catch you. I’m running, it’s starting, count down. I’m ready to be cut by your rose-like embrace,” he continues and your heart is pounding against your chest.

As much as you want to, you can’t tear your eyes away from him. Even when Seokjin sings, you can’t spare him a single glance. Yoongi has your full attention and you breathe in his words like they’re a drug.

“But I can’t let you go. Don’t talk, don’t leave—just quietly hold me,” he practically whispers these words out.

You listen as Seokjin finishes up the song with a final, so I can feel you, hold me before the stage goes black. Immediately, the crowd erupts in cheers and screams. Tears are still streaming down your face and you can feel a sob threatening to make its way out of you. Gradually, the lights flicker back on, and Yoongi and his friend bow once before exiting the stage. Quickly, you wipe the tears from your face and search frantically for your phone. You have to call him. Now. Dialing his number, it rings a few times before he breathlessly answers.

“Y/n?”

You swallow, “Was that song for me?”

He sighs, and it sounds more like relief than anything. “You saw it.”

“Yoongi…” you start, “I don’t even know what to say.”

“The fact that you watched it means everything to me,” he tells you. “I’ve never been very good at explaining myself. Music is what I know best.”

You understand that now. “I’m sorry.” For being so angry, for not listening.

“I had to perform that song before I went back to Seoul,” Yoongi says. “It’s you, y/n. It has always been you.”

“You’re going back?” It feels like you just got him back, and he was leaving you already. But you guess Min Yoongi was never really yours to begin with.

“Tomorrow.”

You’re quiet at this news. Yoongi just spilled everything through a song and he was leaving like he never came home at all.

“Come see me tonight before I go back,” he breaks your thoughts and your breath hitches. “Please.”

And you don’t know what makes you say it, but you do. “Okay.”

***

Come to the old studio.

After you showered and made sure you looked decent, you walked somewhere you never thought you would be again—Namjoon’s studio. Since Yoongi left, you haven’t had a reason to be here. But despite the time away, you still know exactly where it is; the location is forever ingrained in your memory.

Walking past the ramen shop and down the stairs, you stand in front of the studio and breathe once before pushing the doors that are never locked open. Inside, the studio looks the same as it always has—that dingy old couch still sits by the window. The only thing missing is Namjoon. For a brief moment, you wonder how the guy is doing but that thought fades when you hear someone shuffling in another room.

You follow the noise and find Yoongi in his old room. The second you step through the door, he looks up and stops whatever he is doing.

“What are you doing?” you can’t help the small smile that lights your face.

“Just looking through old stuff,” he says, mimicking your smile. “You actually came.”

You walk closer to him. “Of course.”

“I just—I didn’t expect you to. You know, since you have a boy—”

“Did you mean everything you said in that song?” you cut him off. You watch as Yoongi sets down the papers in his hands and looks into your eyes.

He nods once, “All of it.”

And then before you know it, you close the distance between the two of you and kiss him. You can feel your heart pulsating through your chest.

With Yoongi’s lips against yours, you’re on top of the world—floating above the clouds to pure and utter ecstasy. He responds the second you make contact with him, magnets seeming to pull the two of you closer together. With gentle hands, he brings one to cup your face and another to curve around your hips.

And he begins to push you backwards, until you feel a wall pressed firmly behind you. Here, you move your hands from his waist, feeling the hard ridges of his body, up to his pink hair. You fist his soft strands in-between your fingers, tugging gently; and when he moans, you can’t help but smile into the kiss. Yoongi lifts his lips off of yours, letting you breathe for a moment, before leaning further down to press kisses to your jaw and neck.

“I could fucking kiss you, everywhere, forever,” Yoongi breathlessly whispers against your skin, raising the hairs on your body.

All you can feel is heat, all over your body. His words ignite this flame inside of you and it’s incomparable to anything you’ve felt before. You’ve shared this experience with many others before him, but you never thought that you’d actually be here with Yoongi right now and it’s already better than you’ve imagined.

And you’ve imagined it a lot.

He continues to press the slightest of kisses all along your skin while you become putty in his hands. You feel his lips everywhere, until he reaches the top edges of your shirt—there, his fingers maneuver their way down your body and underneath your shirt. The fabric lifts over your head and falls to the floor. And with only your bra covering the top half of your body, Yoongi begins to piano his fingers all over your abdomen; wherever his fingers graze, his lips do the same.

You expect him to suddenly take you there against the wall, it’s an image that has burned hotly in your fantasy, but he doesn’t move; he just stares at you. His eyes leave a trail as they begin slowly from your toes all the way to your eyes. And the look Yoongi gives you makes you feel wanted; he looks at you like you’re Aphrodite herself. The blush that suddenly pinks your cheeks can’t be stopped and he presses another kiss to your lips before leading you away from the wall and to the black loveseat further into the room.

He sets you down on your back and proceeds to take his clothes off. As Yoongi lifts his shirt over his head, you see black lettering etched onto the skin above his left hip bone and you gasp. “You have a tattoo?”

You can barely make out what it says, the majority of the tattoo still concealed by the rest of his clothes.

Yoongi chuckles, pulling the waistband of his underwear down. “For the last year, yeah.”

Sitting up to get a closer look, your fingers lightly press against his skin, and your eyes narrow at the tattoo. They were numbers, and you read them out loud. “What does it mean?”

Looking up at Yoongi, he smiles a bit sheepishly before bringing a hand to caress your face. “It’s kind of silly, really.”

“What?” you smile. “Tell me.”

“Well…” he bites his lower lip, “these numbers represent my heartrate…how fast my heart beats…when I think of you.”

Your mouth drops. “Really?”

He nods, “I had to go to the doctors a few months after I got to Seoul, nothing serious, but they ran some tests and had me react to different words—like sadness or music. And when they said the word love, I immediately pictured you in my mind and,” he laughs, “my numbers were off the charts.”

And you suddenly don’t know why, but you cry. You just can’t believe that this has been bottled up inside of Yoongi for so long, and you never had a single clue. He wipes your tears away and presses more kisses against your lips. You both take the opportunity to peel the rest of your clothing off—your jeans become discarded on the floor and he languidly slides your underwear down your legs. The entire time he does this, his eyes don’t dare to stray from yours and you swear that nothing this hot as ever happened to you.

“Yoongi,” you whisper his name once you’re completely bare to him. A part of you should feel awkward being so naked, but you’re strangely not.

You undo his jeans and slide them down his legs and then pull his hard member out, eagerly taking him into your mouth. Yoongi hisses at the way your lips envelop the tip of his cock, gently licking and sucking. “Fuck, y/n.”

This goes on for a while before he hastily pushes you back down and whispers that it’s his turn to please you. The moment his lips latch onto your sensitive clit, you nearly scream. Your hands immediately reach for his hair, moving your hips against his tongue for the most amount of pressure you can get. Moans leave your lips like a song and that only pushes Yoongi to work his mouth harder and faster along your core. But just before you topple over the edge into paradise, he stops and raises his head.

Your juices coat his lips and it’s the most arousing sight you’ve ever seen.

His lips find your own again and you taste yourself, pushing him closer to you. The two of you mold your bodies together until you can feel his erection graze your stomach. Yoongi lifts his body off of you for a moment, sliding a condom on, before aligning himself at your entrance.

Biting your lip, you both don’t say a word as he begins to slide in. There was no need for any extravagant words at this moment—you just wanted him inside of you already. And the stretch feels amazing; you can barely contain the breathy moans that leave your mouth as Yoongi moves himself in and out of you. His pace is painfully slow, dragging this moment out for as long as possible. And he also doesn’t hold himself back vocally; he isn’t afraid to tell you how you’re making him feel.

“Fuck—you feel so good,” Yoongi flicks out his tongue to wet his lower lip, beginning to move a little faster. You offer another moan as a response.

Soon, he begins to build a faster pace; your hands run along his back, nails marking little crescents into his skin. You tell him that you need more, feeling your orgasm approaching. But instead of doing what you say, he pulls out and you’re confused. “Yoongi…”

He doesn’t explain what he’s doing, but suddenly flips you over so you’re on your stomach with your ass in the air. And then without a warning, he enters you again and begins slamming into you. Yoongi’s hands dig into your hips, you’re almost positive there’s going to be marks there in the morning, while simultaneously squeezing your cheeks together. Another string of curses leaves his lips and he tells you again how great you feel wrapped around him.

With each thrust of his hips, you moan and tell him that he’s making you feel so good.

“Yeah? It feels good, baby?” he practically coos to you.

And you almost want to cry at the pleasure, “S-So good.”

Before you know it, that same overwhelming pressure begins to build inside of you again. Your hands fist whatever you can of the couch as your head begins to spin. You tell him that you’re close, feeling your orgasm approaching, and he presses a few gentle fingers on your sensitive little nub. His touch is all it takes to send you over the edge.

“Yoongi!”

With tightly shut eyes, you scream out his name. You lose the strength to hold yourself up completely and fall into the couch. Behind you, you can feel Yoongi continuing to thrust into you and you turn around to see him smirk a little at you. “Did you think we were done already, love?”

“Oh fuck,” you moan as Yoongi’s pace slows. He slows down to the point where his cock pulls out of you and then pushes into you, completely bottoming out each time.

“I’ve been waiting forever for this moment,” he grunts before flipping you back onto your back.

At this point, you don’t think is possible for you to come undone again but you see the determination in Yoongi’s eyes. He begins moving his hips faster, hands latched onto your breast.

“Oh my god…” you moan, “I’m close.”

“Come on, baby,” he says, his cock deeper inside of you.

His body lowers down until his head is nestled into the crook of your neck. And he continues to fuck you like that until you reach your climax and let out the most beautiful sounds Yoongi has ever heard. After a few more strokes, muttering fuck, fuck, fuck, Yoongi also reaches his own climax.

For a minute, all that can be heard are the both of you trying to catch your breaths. Once your breathings become even, it’s quiet in Yoongi’s old studio.

Suddenly, he gets up and you turn your body asking him where he’s going. He offers you a smile, telling you that he’s just grabbing a towel to clean up the mess. And as he walks over to the other rooms, you can help but stare at his cute ass.

“So why did you dye your hair?”

Yoongi laughs as he walks back to you, “You literally just gave me the best fuck of my life, and you’re curious about my hair?”

His words flush your face pink, “I-I mean…I’m just curious.”

You watch as Yoongi wipes you down, looking into your eyes the entire time. It’s a simple act, but the thought of him being inside you again crosses your mind more than once. Unfortunately, you suppress such lustful thoughts and keep your hands off of him. After he’s done, you slip on his discarded shirt and sit up on the couch. He settles next to you, pulling his jeans back on, and pulls you into his arms. And as cliché as it sounds, being in his embrace is the best feeling ever.

“Well,” he begins, “I was actually blonde for a while before I decided to go pink. Let me show you.”

Yoongi fishes in his pockets for his phone and pulls up a picture; and sure enough, he’s platinum blonde. You voice that he looks good with that color, but he just laughs.

“Why pink?” you ask.

He shrugs, “I guess I just wanted to do something a little different.”

“I’ve always loved you with your natural black hair too,” you smile. “But seeing you with all these colors makes me realize you’d probably look good in anything—just don’t let all your hair fall out.”

“Of course,” he says and then leans down to presses the faintest of kisses on your forehead. Suddenly, a yawn escapes your lips and you realize how late it must be already. You’re exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions you’ve had. “Sleepy?”

You shake your head, yawning again, “No…”

He laughs, “Sure…go to sleep, y/n.”

And you do—you fall asleep to the steady beating of Yoongi’s heart.

***

You wake up in tangled limbs and a blanket over the two of you.

As you open your eyes and look around the room, Yoongi is still peacefully asleep next to you. His lips are slightly parted and a gentle snore is released with his inhales. You smile at how soft and sweet he looks here, at this moment. The number of times you’ve imagined waking up beside him are countless; you wish that things can always be like this.

But that’s not realistic and life isn’t how you imagined.

It never really is.

Despite sharing your soul with Yoongi last night and his love confession, you’re unsure of everything. Life might be perfect right now, but what happens when you walk out of this studio? What happens when you both return to your lives?

In the back of your mind, hidden away the moment you turned on the TV last night, Jeongguk’s name is lit up brightly—flashing like one of those neon signs. Your stomach sinks; do you regret what you did with Yoongi? You look at his beautiful sleeping face, your heart clenching a bit, and you know for sure that there are no regrets there. A part of you does feel for Jeongguk, but you will never regret anything to do with Min Yoongi.

After all, he is the reason your heart beats.

You stare a little longer at his face, trying to carve it into your memory. And after you’re nearly positive that you’ve memorized every little freckle and perfect imperfection, you gently lift his arm that’s laying over your waist up and off your body. You get up from the couch, put your own clothes back on and search for your phone.

When you find your things, you quietly begin to walk out of the room. You only look back once, to make sure he isn’t awake yet and thankfully he isn’t. When you’re out of the old studio room, you run out of the building and into the early rays of daylight.

You let out a deep breath and wipe the single tear that falls from your eye.

This is the best thing. Besides, isn’t Yoongi leaving for Seoul again anyway? What were the odds of seeing him again before or after that? Seeing him during his short stay back home was just a small gift life decided to give—it’s not going to happen again. While you are here, still trying to figure life out…Yoongi was successful and would be just fine without you. And you finally understood that.

Life gave you what you always wanted—for Yoongi to love you back. And now that you knew, you’re good. That was all you needed.

As you walk back to your apartment, you pull out your phone and see a series of messages from Jeongguk. Your eyes scan their contents, the majority of them apologies again for the no-show yesterday. And as you pull up the most recent one, you notice that he asks you to come over today if you’re free. You text him back, letting him know that you’ll be there as soon as you possibly can.

You continue home and once you get there, you immediately walk into the shower. While you wash off Yoongi’s scent that still lingers on your skin, you try to clear your mind and think positively. You weren’t sure of many things, but you knew that you had to tell Jeongguk everything today.

He deserves to know.

Quickly, you get out and dry yourself down before slipping on some casual clothes. You head over to Jeongguk’s place, feeling anxious and nervous. And you don’t really know why you’re feeling this way; it wasn’t like you two were strangers. Yet somehow, it feels like it’s been so long since you’ve seen his face.

What are you even going to say to him?

Are you going to hug? Kiss?

All of these normal things the two of you did now feels foreign. But before you can ponder further about seeing Jeongguk, you’re at his front door. You hesitate to push the key you have into the door—do you even have that right anymore? So instead, you ring the bell.

Jeongguk answers within seconds, pulling the door open to reveal a rather disheveled version of him. He looks…tired; there’s no better way to describe it. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“Hey,” he says, scratching the slight stubble that has begun to grow along his chin, “come in.”

You awkwardly duck underneath his arm and take your shoes off. “Hey.”

“How are you?” he asks, and shuts the door behind you.

“I’m…okay,” you turn around and offer a small smile. “You?”

He smiles back, “I’m doing okay, too.”

The two of you walk into the space where his couch and TV are set up. He tells you to go ahead and sit down, while also asking if you want anything to eat or drink. You tell him the usual and watch as his eyes light up for a brief moment before he leaves you sitting there alone. The usual is the little cans of coke you placed into his fridge—you know Jeongguk never drinks those because the first time you did it, he drank them all and you were mad at him for a week. The memory must’ve crossed both of your minds just now.

As he leaves you there to stare at blank white walls of this room, you can feel that anxious feeling returning.

Footsteps paddle across the wooden floor of Jeongguk’s apartment as he walks back to you—a coke in one hand and his own drink in the other. Before he is even beside you, that pressure reaches its max. And when he is beside you, you can’t even bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “What’s wrong, y/n?”

He must notice how tense you are because you don’t even move. Jeongguk brings a hand down to your shoulder, but you flinch away. He retracts his hands away instantly, taking a step back from you. As a sigh leaves your lips, you muster up what little ounce of courage you have and look at him.

When you look at him, you see the dark circles that taint his wide eyes; he looks restless and it’s all because of you. You’ve changed him, and not in the good way.

“Jeongguk…we need to talk.”

“If this is about yesterday…I said—” he begins, but you raise a hand to stop him.

“No…it’s—it’s more than just that,” you try to get the right words out, but fail miserably.

“Is it him?” Jeongguk asks, dropping the drinks and fisting his hands. “Is this all because of Yoongi?”

You finally look at him, “Of course not!”

“Then what did I do wrong, y/n?” he falls to his knees, reaching for your legs. “Tell me how to fix this…”

You try to pry his hands away from you, because it will only make this all harder. “There’s nothing you can do, Jeongguk.”

“Just tell me what I did wrong,” he says, eyes swelling with tears, “and don’t give me that it’s not you, it’s me bullshit. I love you...don’t you love me too?”

Tears begin to swim in your vision, “I do…I care about you deeply. You make me smile, but I can’t love you the way you deserve to be. Jeongguk, you’re too good for me…I-I am a shell of the person I used to be. I gave myself away to someone who didn’t love me back and then you came and—and I thought it would be fine. Enough. But…”

Jeongguk grabs your hands, “No one is too good for you, y/n.”

“You are,” your tears are no cascading down your cheeks, “you’re way too good for me.”

He drops your hands and begins to wipe the tears away from your face.

“See!” you exclaim, showing him that everything he does for you is something you can’t give him.

“It’s called being a nice person,” he sighs.

You shake your head, “Not everyone’s willing to love a girl who can’t give her whole heart to them.”

“So, who has the parts of your heart that you can’t give to me then?” You don’t even have to answer him; Jeongguk is no fool. You watch as his jaw begins to clench. “Over and over again, you say that he’s not the reason why…but he is.”

He was partially right, but there was still was something he didn’t get.

“When you met me, I became this person that I wanted to be for you. I wanted to be as good to you as you were to me,” you say, “but that girl you fell in love with…wasn’t genuine. And you don’t deserve that.”

It’s quiet in the room after that.

“Are you…” Jeongguk takes a deep breath, “breaking up with me?”

You swallow the tears that are threatening to spill over and look away from him. Why was this suddenly so difficult? “You deserve someone better than me.”

“Are you choosing him over me?”

“I’m not choosing anyone,” you tighten your hands into fists.

Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, “So after this, you’re not going to run to him?”

“No,” you look back at him, letting the tears escape freely.

Suddenly, he pulls you into his arms and you crumble. Your sobs make themselves apparent and you let out everything you’ve held inside of you since Yoongi left you for Seoul. As Jeongguk’s arms tighten around you, he whispers continuous words of comfort until you’ve said everything you needed to say and the tears subside.

And for a while, the two of you just stay like that—you wrapped in Jeongguk’s arms. It’s comforting in the most platonic way and also bittersweet; when will you ever get to be like this with him again?

“I’m sorry,” you break the silence.

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk replies, “if it’s meant to be, it will be…right?”

You take a deep breath, “Right.”

***

You leave Jeongguk’s apartment with a final hug.

The embrace the two of you shared probably only lasted a few seconds as most, but it felt like one of the longest moments in your life.

Even though you’ve accepted everything, you are surprised that Jeongguk let you go without another objection. You were sure that he was going to beg you to stay with him; but as you make your way home, you realize that Jeongguk was just being himself—even after all this, he was still too good to you.

The moment you walk back into your apartment, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You fall onto your bed with a deep sigh, feeling very different all of a sudden. For the first time in what seems like forever, you feel…okay. Nothing is plaguing or filling your mind with anxious thoughts. You feel free, and you never thought that you would feel this way.

And Jeongguk was right, what is meant to be will be. You weren’t lying when you said that you weren’t choosing anyone.

Being with Yoongi in that emotional way was enough for you; you didn’t need anything else from him. And the fact that he loved you too was all that you needed to live a happy life. But you couldn’t be with Jeongguk after everything either. It would’ve felt like a lie. Both of them deserve the best things in life, and that is more than you can offer.

Now, instead of worrying about both of them and how the hell your life tied into theirs, you’re ready for the next step.

First things first, that job situation. Pulling yourself off your bed, you grab your laptop off the floor and begin to scroll through different job listings. What did you even want to do? What could you even see yourself doing? Working in that music store was a way for you to connect with Yoongi, which now seemed honestly so silly of you, but it was all you could ever really see yourself doing.

Just as he crosses your mind for the briefest of moments, your phone begins to ring somewhere. You ignore the call, mind preoccupied already. But it doesn’t ring just once. It doesn’t take you much to guess who it must be. You get up to check anyway, finding your phone sandwiched between some clothing, and see Yoongi’s name lighting up the screen.

You could answer the phone—god only knows how shocked he must’ve been when he woke up and you were gone—but you ignore the few phone calls he makes to you because you can’t talk to him. If you hear his voice again, you’ll run back to him and that would not be the greatest idea.

Was this too cruel of you? To just suddenly ignore him when all you’ve wished for these past years is to have him in your life? Turning your phone off, you chuck it somewhere and find those brochures you grabbed absentmindedly yesterday. Looking at the brochures again, you see the traveling abroad ones at the very top. For a second, you imagine yourself somewhere else other than here. Because what did you even have here in this small town?

Leaving has never been on your agenda. It wasn’t like you hated living here, but there really wasn’t anything for you. Granted, some of the best things have happened to you here…but perhaps, a little change would be okay.

Perhaps, it could be even great.

***

two years later

“I can see your passport is nearly full, ma’am.”

You offer the airport attendant a smile, “I’ve been…busy these last few years.”

She stamps one of the few empty spaces in your passport before handing it back to you, “Last stop in your journey is South Korea?”

“Just going back home,” you say.

“Well, I hope you have a great flight there.”

You walk further into the airport and to your gate, handing the flight attendant your boarding pass. And as you walk into the airplane, you settle into your seat and let out a breath you’ve been holding.

After that rather eventful day, you decided to make something of your life. You sold almost everything you owned, except for a few things you could carry in a backpack, and bought a one-way ticket to Paris. It was reckless and honestly so unlike you, but it was also one of the best decisions you’ve ever made in your life.

Even though there was no real destination or course you were traveling on, it was still a wonderful experience. You kind of liked the fact that you were not on a specific schedule. Because of this, you’ve been able to go all over the world. You were able to spend a few weeks in Paris, a month in London, another month or so in Cairo. It was absolutely wonderful.

On the few phone calls you made back home, mainly calling to appease the worries of your mother, everyone said you must’ve been so nervous about the uncertainty surrounding your trip. But you assured everyone by saying you weren’t worried—you just lived.

As you fly home, you stare out the windows of the plane and remark on all the different places you’ve been. It has opened your eyes to realize how small you really are compared to the vastness of the world. And you have also met a lot of interesting people. For one, you met that adorable couple in Rome and that boy in San Francisco who also spoke Korean. What was his name again? Jimin, you think.

Things between you and Jimin had been strictly friends with no benefits, but he reminded you so much of Jeongguk and Jeongguk always made you think about Yoongi.

You often wondered how they were doing. One of the phone calls you made abroad were to Jeongguk, which surprised even yourself. It was probably six months into your trip and you just called to see if he was okay. And he was great—more than just okay. You two couldn’t talk forever, it’s fucking expensive to make calls overseas as someone with no money, but what you did talk about was extremely reassuring. He was over whatever tides had risen between the both of you.

“I don’t hate you, y/n.”

You remember just letting out the biggest sigh of relief, “Really? You’re one-hundred-percent positive?”

“You’re quite possibly the greatest person I’ve ever met…how could I hate you?” he said.

You probably could’ve cried at that moment. The phone call ended with you promising him a coffee date once you returned from your spontaneous trip. “You have to promise me.”

“I have no idea when I’ll be back,” you told him honestly. “You can’t possibly wait forever.”

“So, what? You’ll come back home eventually—I want to know what you’ve seen and been up to.”

“What if everything’s different then?” you asked.

He paused for a moment before saying, “The only different thing is that we’ve changed. But we’re also still the same—I’m still the same Jeongguk you met at the music store.”

Jeongguk was contradicting himself, but making some sort of sense still. He was right, you guessed; the two of you had changed a lot, you’ve grown in these last two years and you’re sure he’s moved on with his life as well. But inside, you both are still just y/n and Jeongguk.

You haven’t talked to him since then, but sometimes you managed to get hold of the internet and search up his social media. You deactivated your phone before you left, so you just purchase a phone card when you need it. The last time you looked, he posted a picture with the prettiest girl—a potential girlfriend, perhaps? Whoever she might be, you’re happy for him.

He didn’t need you to breathe after all.

***

The moment you land and walk onto Korean soil, you see his pictures taped on nearly every wall. You have no idea how old they are, but they can’t be too old since his hair isn’t pink anymore.

Since you deactivated your phone, you have no idea what’s up with him anymore. Granted, you have looked up Yoongi’s name online and from what the internet told you, he was doing quite well. But you kept things extremely surface-level—no digging into his personal life like you’ve done with Jeongguk.

You also didn’t call him while you were away, and you don’t know why. Maybe it’s fear? You’re not entirely sure. But what you did know was that these last two years seemed to go by faster than the previous two years. Wasn’t it a bit ironic that you were now the one who left him after he left you?

Walking through the airport, you call a taxi to take you to the train station.

On the train back to your hometown, it feels surreal that you’re actually back after so long. What are you supposed to do now? For one, you managed to call your old landlord and rent out your apartment again. It was a relief actually; when you decided to come back home, you were kind of freaking out about where you were supposed to live again. Thankfully, since you’ve been gone, no one else has rented out your small place. Or if someone did, they didn’t stay for long.

So, at least you have a place to live.

That was a start, right?

After a few hours, you begin to see the scenery of your hometown. And surprisingly, you begin to feel a bit nostalgic all of the sudden. As much as you don’t really want to admit it, you missed home while you were away. Two years isn’t that long, but at the same time, it is.

Getting off the train, you walk down the familiar streets you grew up on and can’t help but smile. Everything looks different, new buildings and streets, but feels exactly the same as it did when you left.

And although you’re somewhat unsure what lies in the future, you honestly are excited to see what life has in store.

***

A few days after you get situated back into your apartment, you finally decide to hop on that phone situation.

Since you’re back, for now at least, you might as well get a phone. On your trip, you were able to save what little money you made from taking on miscellaneous jobs. It wasn’t much, but it’s brought you this far. You get the first phone the worker tries to sell to you and all is well in the world.

And with a phone back in your life, you give Jeongguk a call to fulfill the promise you made him a while ago. Thankfully, his number hasn’t changed at all and he’s more than excited to meet you for coffee. The two of you decide that tomorrow afternoon will be a good time and you swear that you can’t sit still until then.

Jeongguk tells you the name of a shop for you to meet him at and you arrive there first, getting a coffee for the two of you. When he arrives, you are equal parts surprised and relieved. He hasn’t changed at all. The moment he walks into the café, your eyes meet his and it feels like two years haven’t gone bye. It feels like you never left at all.

You don’t even know what you both talk about—probably nonsense—but you’re there for hours. And you guys laugh…a lot. It’s something you didn’t think you’d be able to do again with him. While you’re at the café, you learn that he is dating again and all you can feel is joy for him. He deserves someone good; someone who can give him the world. Jeongguk also asks about your love life, to which you say is nonexistent.

“I’m sure he’s out there.”

You laugh, “I’m actually super content with being single for the rest of my life. Like, these last two years have really shown me how to properly live and I don’t think I need someone to do that.”

“Have you called Suga—I mean, Yoongi?” Jeongguk asks, rather out of the blue, and you’re surprised.

“No,” you tilt your head to the side, “I haven’t.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, “Dude’s making it big these days.”

That was an understatement. In the time you’ve been back, it seems like you can’t escape Yoongi. His pictures are everywhere; he’s in his music prime. Every girl is obsessed with him, and every guy wants to be invited to his parties or be his friend. You can hear his music being played all over town as well. It’s absolutely crazy.

“I’m happy for him.”

“I think you should call him.”

You stare at Jeongguk for a moment, wondering why he is so intent on you calling Yoongi. “Why do you care so much? From what I remember, you weren’t fond of him at all.”

Jeongguk feigns indifference, shrugging. “I’m not his biggest fan, but I figured since we’re talking…you should try talking to him too.”

A part of you wonders if something went down between Jeongguk and Yoongi while you were gone. The moment from the street, the only time you remember both of them meeting, flashes across your mind for a second. You can still feel the tension rolling through the air from that day; you could tell that every word had been forced.

“I’ll think about it,” you say, and the conversation about Yoongi ends there.

***

Life works in mysterious ways.

About three weeks after your homecoming, there are three precise knocks on the door. Without even thinking, or looking into the little peephole of your door, you just open it. And time seems to stop. You didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t this.

“Hi.”

You stare at him before rubbing your eyes to make sure this is reality. Are you dreaming? When your hands fall from your face, he’s still there.

He looks a little different; dark hair lays tousled on his head instead of the pink you remembered. Damn, you were just getting used to it too. In fact, you kind of miss it now that you’re thinking about it. But it seems like time is on his side—he doesn’t look like he aged at all. It doesn’t even seem like fame has fazed him either.

“Hey,” to your own ears, your voice sounds off. Do you always sound like this?

“How have you been?”

“I…” As much as you’re still in mild shock that he’s standing in front of you, you’re confused. What is he doing here? Why is he here? How did he even know you were here in the first place? “I’m good…you?”

Yoongi smiles, “Better.”

“So…uh…what are you doing here?”

“Heard from someone that you’re back home,” he shrugs, “and figured I would come by. I can’t believe you live in the same apartment still.”

You roll your eyes, “This place is functioning, okay? Besides, I’m just thankful the landlord let me have it back.”

It’s quiet between the two of you after that. Yoongi just stares at you for the longest time before reaching out to push a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Why did you leave?”

“Are you talking about that night or Korea in general?”

“Everything,” he says. “Do you know how many times I called? I was so worried. I was so desperate for an answer I even called Jeongguk, and when he told me you broke up with him…god…I was so fucking happy—is that wrong?—but then when he said he had no idea where you went off too…I-I can’t even explain how I felt.”

“Now you know how I felt,” you mutter under your breath.

But Yoongi hears you, “Is this to get back at me for going to Seoul?”

“Of course not!” you tell him. “I’m not that crazy. I left because I thought it was best—I told Jeongguk that I wasn’t going to choose between the two of you.”

“Are you stupid? In what world did you think I would okay if you’re gone?” Yoongi asks and your mouth shuts. “Did nothing I say to you mean anything?”

“It meant everything.”

“But you still left.”

You rub your forehead, “Yoongi, I didn’t leave because I didn’t love you. I left so your life would be better. You don’t need me. Jeongguk didn’t need me. I was okay with loving you from afar and—”

You stop talking when Yoongi’s finger moves to your lips.

“Shut up,” he says.

All you can do is nod.

“You’re wrong,” he begins, “I need you in my life. I’ve been miserable for years without you…and I was a fool to believe otherwise.”

You nod again, “Okay…but let’s start over, yeah?”

With all the stress and heartbreak surrounding the two of you over these past years, it feels like it would just be better if you both begin this new chapter in your lives fresh. You want to get to know Yoongi again—not just who he used to be, but who he is now. Has his favorite food changed? How is Seoul? What does he do now during his free time?

Thankfully, a smile stretches across his face. “I would love that.”

“So, if that’s the case,” you return the smile and stretch out your hand, “I’m y/n.”

“Hi, I’m Min Yoongi.”

The moment your hands touch, you seem to feel everything. Blood rushes through your body, heart beating erratically. You’re excited about the future—a future with Yoongi was something you didn’t think was possible. And whether or not the two of you will be together romantically, who even knows, all you care about is the fact that he wants you in his life.

That in itself is the greatest feeling ever.

***

“Wait…aren’t you supposed to be in Seoul?”

“…Maybe.”

“Don’t tell me you took the train here. That must’ve caused an uproar since you’re oh-so-famous now.”

“I’m not that famous…and I took my private plane.”

“…you have a private plane?!”

“I’m kidding; I drove my car. Want to come with me to Seoul?”

“Are you asking me out on a date, Min Yoongi?”

“I think I am.”

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