#time to have my guy chug 7 energy drinks and fight god
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ranger-kellyn · 7 days ago
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first time ever going to the end to fight the dragon!
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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years ago
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Chapter 8
Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader
Premis:
When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.
Word count: 2,214
Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (sexual assault does not occur). 
A/N: 
This took so long for no reason, I am so sorry. I hate the holidays, I’m always so busy and can’t do anything I enjoy and it just drained all my time and energy. I’m so glad it’s over. Anywhoo, I hope ya’ll like this chapter! 
Chapter 7 Chapter 9
You starred up at the ceiling, nodding off into space as your mind wondered. The cracks in the ceiling painting an abstract paining, giving you much to ponder on. You had been thinking about Shigaraki. The man had plagued your thoughts. You knew very little about him and it bothered you.
He subverted every expectation you had about villains. He was ruthless and driven, yes. Crude and dastardly, of course. But the glimpses of kindness he showed you, made your mind spin. Why was he so kind to you? Why was he training you to use your abilities? And why, on God's green earth were you attracted to him?
It made your head spin to think about. About him. His eyes. It was those red eyes. So bright in color and deep in thought. The way he looked at you, like he saw you. When was the last time someone had looked at you that way? Reality would soon sink in after these thoughts. Reminding you that you should fear him, hate him even. That you should be working to get yourself free. But, you hadn't made a single attempt to escape. What was there to escape? You weren't in any immediate danger. In fact, you were being taken care of.
A knock at the door shook you from your train of thought. Without waiting for an answer, the man you knew as Dabi walked in, and closed the door behind you. His glassy blue eyes watched you as he moved. He stood up against the wall adjacent from you, watching you, leering over you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe, this is where your torture begins. Wordlessly he looked away to pull out a pack of cigarettes, place one to his lips and then look back at you.
"You don't mind, do you?" He asked. You shook your head. He turned away to use his quirk to light the thing and then silently take a few drags as he looked off into the distance. Was he going to rape you? This was the perfect opportunity for him to. You were honestly shocked you hadn't been by now. Normally, kidnapping victims were sexually assaulted in some way. But no one seemed interested, until now.
Would you have to fight him off? Could you fight him off? If you screamed would anyone come to help you? Would he kill you?
"What do you want?" You asked after a few minutes of silence. He looked back at you and raised a brow.
"I just wanted to smoke in piece. It's raining outside." He told you before going back to his smoking. "I do have a question for you though."
"What?"
"You really the big guy's daughter?" He took another drag.
"Yeah. Why?" He shrugged.
"The way you talk about him. Sounds like you don't get along." You shrugged.
"I don't know him enough." Dabi scoffed before finishing his cigarette and stomping it out. He licked his lips and kicked his leg as he shifted his weight. His eyes darting back to the door before looking at you again.
"You ever wanna be a hero?" He chuckled.
"No." Your voice firm and decided. He smiled.
"Why?"
"It's a shit job where I'm from."
"It's a shit job here." He remarked. You nodded.
"I know. Heroes are shit." You shared a few smiles with one another.
"With a quirk like yours, you could really do some damage."
"I know."
"Something tells me this isn't your first time off your meds. It can't be."
"It's not."
"Care to share-"
"No." You barked. The idea of it made your stomach turn and your heart ache. You worked so hard to push that down you weren't about to have that break down in front of a stranger. Dabi raised his brows and threw his hands up in a mocking motion.
"Alright, fine. None of my business." He scoffed.
"What do you want?" You asked again, not satisfied with his previous answer. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before answering.
"Shigaraki asked me to over see your training while he's out."
"He's gone?" You asked softly, maybe a little too softly.
"Afraid so. So it's just you...and me..." He smiled. You held your legs up to your chest and pulled them close. He looked you over and then scoffed. "Don't worry, kid, I'm not that kind of villain. Now get up, I'm your trainer for now and I'm not nearly as forgiving as the boss." He turned and opened the door, waiting for you to follow.
"Do you know why?" You asked as you laid your feet flat on the concrete floor. Dabi looked back at you with an emotionless expression. A face he often wore, it screamed "auto-pilot." Like he wasn't really all there.
"Why what?"
"Why he's training me. I don't understand. Why waist time with a hostage like this? Isn't he worried I couldn't fight back and escape?" You asked. Dabi thought for a moment as he watched you pass through the door and out into the living room.
"What goes through that lunatic's mind is beyond me." He closed the door behind you. "But if I had to take a guess, I'd say he's planning something using your quirk."
"Like what?" He shrugged and walked passed you, turning a corner into what used to be the building's break room, now a make-shift kitchen where temporary supplies were being stored.
"Fuck if I know." He muttered as he went about his business. He opened and rummaged through the fridge before turning back to you. "You hungry?" He asked.
"Um...no." You lied. He starred at you before turning back.
"That's a pity. You need to eat. Keep up your strength. You can't use your quirk properly if you don't have the right fule. Here." He threw a small blurry package at you. The lite weight objected bounced between your hands for a moment before you finally grabbed ahold of it. Instant noodles. Right fule huh?
"This is fule?" You asked.
"What? Were you expecting the fucking food pyramid? Do we look rich to you?"
"No, I just...the way you were talking. Like we were gonna chug raw egg yolks, it's just funny." You smiled. You made yourself the sad excuse for a meal and sat at the small plastic table and ate as Dabi made his own disaster. You watched him. By all accounts, he was a relatively normal guy. It always shocked you, how normal everyone was. How they moved and acted. Not like the villain characters you'd imagined in your head. But just, people.
As he sat down across the table from you, he set down two canned sports drinks, sliding one over to your side without a word. You took it and popped it open before taking a sip. You furrowed your brow.
"Sugar free?" You asked. He looked up at you, as if you had interrupted something important.
"What? Sugars bad for you, makes me bloated." Your smile widened. He relaxed his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. "What the fuck is so funny?" He barked. It only made you laugh.
"I'm it's just...I don't know.."
"Just what?"
"It's just so normal!" You flashed a dazzling smile without even trying. "Everyone here is just so...I don't know, human. Nothing like I expected. They paint this big scary picture on the other side but, everyones just so normal. Even nice at times, yknow?" He brushed you off and went back to eating. "So what's the plan right now?" You asked, picking at your food.
"What?" He asked, annoyed.
"The plan, the big scary villain plan. Now that the plan with me clearly failed. What's the big picture?" Why were you so happy? What's with that smile, those eyes. Dabi looked you over, trying to figure you out.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah! I wanna know."
"Why?"
"Because." He looked at you like he was waiting for you continue. You starred back blankly.
"Because?"
"Because."
"Oh my god."
"C'mon."
"Eat your food." He ordered.
"Please?"
"Shut up and eat."
"Are you gonna use my quirk to blow up a hero agency?"
"No."
"A military target?"
"A what?"
"Government building?" He rolled his eyes and stomped his foot.
"I don't know! Alright!? I don't know." The room fell silent for a moment. You ate a few more bites before finishing and waiting for him.
"So Shigaraki doesn't share everything with you, I take it?" You interjected.
"No he doesn't."
"So you trust him?" You asked.
"No."
"But you still follow his directions regardless?" You poked.
"Our agendas line up, that's all you need to know."
"Mh, okay. What are your agendas exactly? I have a vague idea of Shigaraki's and Toga's but I don't know yours."
"Why do you care?"
"I...." you thought about it for a little while. "I'm just trying to make sense of it all. Why, things are the way they are." He starred at you for a while. His blue eyes piercing your flesh.
"You already know why."
"Wait? Wait? What do you mean, wait!?" Your mother shouted furiously across the meeting room table. Rows of tables lined with pro-heros watched her out burst.
"I know you're concerned, but with all due respect ma'am-"
"Concerned!? Concerned!? I'm beyond concerned, I am livid! We finally know where my daughter is being held captive and you want to wait!?" She cried.
"Mrs. Please, we understand your concerns and believe me, we're going to get her as soon as we can but we can't just bust in there like last time."
"Last time?" Xavier piped up. "This has happened before?" The heroes looked at one another with a puzzled expression. Your father gave an exhausted sigh.
"A few years ago, a student of mine was kidnapped in an attempt to recruit him. Thankfully we were able to rescue the student, but it cost us. A run-in with All for One, Shigaraki's old mentor, nearly killed Best Jeanist, and led to my retirement. Since then, Shigaraki and his followers have become much more of a threat. We can't risk starting an all out battle again. They've positioned themselves in a very populated area. If we aren't careful, Shigaraki alone could decimate everyone and everything. We have to be careful about this." He explained.
"This isn't just about Y/N's safety anymore. We have to find a way to get her out of there without endangering the city around her." Eraserhead noted, looking down at the papers he held in had hands.
"If that's the case, shouldn't we be sending in heroes who specialize in stelth? If we can get her out there without anyone noticing, we won't have to fight. That way, we have time to evacuate everybody in case of an all out fight." A young voice suggested.
"I could see how that would be effective, Deku. But in order to pull off a mission like that we'd need more information. At this rate, even a stealth mission would be a rash discussion." Bubble Girl stood to attention at the projection on the screen.
"What about the girl herself? She didn't say anything about their numbers or the hideout itself?" DynaMight asked, his brows furred, eyes starring off into space in thought.
"Unfortunate no, and theres no way to contact her further at the moment. It's too dangerous." Eraserhead answered.
"Ugh, Heroes. Useless." Xavier spat, throwing himself from his seat and storming out of the room. Toshinari watched him and then turned back to your mother who sat there with her head hung low. Her dainty fingers shoving tears away from her face.
"This is all your fault." She muttered before standing and following Xavier out of the room. Your father sat there, frozen, unable to process or move or speak. She was right. It was his fault, he thought. If only he had asked you to stay that night. If only he took better care of you, if only he spent more time with you, if only, if only, if...only...
"Um, uh...meeting adjourned. You're dismissed." Your father shuffled out into the hallway, his head hanging low.
"Um...A-All Might?" A soft voice spoke. He slowly turned to find young midoriya standing there. His eyes sparkling as they always did. They never lost their sparkle, after all he'd been through.
"Young Midoriya..."
"...I...I never knew you had a daughter..."
"You weren't supposed to. No one was." He answered with a blank and flat tone.
"Right. Of course. I just...well...she doesn't have..."
"No. One for All isn't genetic so it's not passed on to a user's children. Why? Are you worried that Shigaraki might still be after it?" Deku nodded. Toshinori sighed and looked off in the distance. "You heard the phone call. She seemed fine...she even laughed. I haven't heard her laugh since..." he trailed off. Since she was a child. He hadn't heard you laugh since you were little. The revelation tugged at his weakened heart, shattering it to pieces.
"Sir?" Deku asked.
"Promise me something young Midoriya."
"What is it?"
"The world needs dedicated and strong heroes," Deku looked up at him with a determined furrowed brow, "but don't let it rule your world."
Taglist: 
@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable
@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love
@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff
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swaglexander-the-great · 5 years ago
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Yakuza: Like A Dragon
I just watched the 2007 Yakuza: Like a Dragon film and DEAR GOD I need to share this experience (Spoilers, of course)
Firstly, this film just... makes NO sense. Some (MAIN) characters are not connected to each other in any way. Who are they? No explanation. Why are they here? Who Knows. Just watch them go heat mad from 32 degrees celsius and rob various stores until one of them gets shot. She breaks the news to her boyfriend that she is mortally wounded by saying ‘i will never have ur kids’ (they have never discussed children, and are like 18). The bf is, understandably baffled by this choice of words to explain a fatal bullet wound
There is a masochistic guy who Majima beats up in a basement, and to get to said basement, Majima deadlifts a door off the wall to reveal an elevator. This guy also gets punched by Kiryu and LOVES it
Bank robbery that is drawn out throughout the whole plot, but literally doesn’t go anywhere. It’s just two dudes going heat mad because something (God??) broke the air con during their heist
Kiryu’s Ass. This man has cake for DAYS. It deflects the rubble of a skyscraper at one point.
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 (^^kiryu’s distractingly huge ass)
5. it took me 90% of the movie to figure out 3 depressed men in a bar were meant to be Kiryu’s host friends
6. Nishikiyama is only in the movie for 2.5 seconds and looks like an absolute, total geed
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(^ my sleep paralysis demon)
7. Date-san is jarringly tall 8|
8. Apparently everyone in the city is going mad from global warming and a 3 degree raise in the overall temperature, and to combat this, Haruka chugs water.
9. Kiryu walks into a bar and three people bow on instinct alone
10. Korean assassins appear for some reason?? One of them serves drinks to 20+ policemen trapped in a 45 degree van, which has a loony-tunes style heat gauge in it
11. Majima finds a shotgun and straight up obliterates like 6 people
12. Scenes are cut into weird stop motion sometimes?? Why?? It’s usually with Majima, so maybe he just Moves Like That
13. Kiryu takes haruka, a little girl, to a brothel. The doorman leads him into a bar with a couch facing a curtain. Kiryu feels a ping in his spider-senses and dives behind the couch. At the sound of a gong, the curtain opens to reveal Majima on a golden pimp throne with a shotgun as his men fire at the now Kiryu-less couch. Majima rebukes kiryu: You brought a CHILD to a BrOTHEL??
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(Glory Be)
14. Majima and Kiryu cock empty shotguns at each other for 10 seconds straight. They also punch each other in the face in what seems like an unbreakable loop for the same amount of time.
15. This Iconic moment
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(what does your Eye Patch see, Majima-san?)
16. Majima smacks baseballs into Kiryu’s firm abs until the guy who throws the baseballs fucking dies. I’m pretty sure this is some sort of test, and if Kiryu passes, he gets Majima’s hand in marriage.
17. Kiryu passes the test, which leads us to whatever THIS scene is
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(yes, that is a mirror ceiling in the top picture [ft. kiryu’s bubble butt], and yes, there is far too much weird grunting in this scene)
18. It is at this point that the tone of the film goes from artistically bizarre to confusingly horny (including one whole scene of Nishiki just walking and stripping off his clothes)
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(get ur hand off Kiryu’s thicc bountiful ass, Nishiki)
19. Three major characters (Nishiki, Yumi, and Jingu) appear in the final 10 minutes with probably 1 line of dialogue to build up who they are through the entire film, only all to be immediately killed. I may, however, have become confused, as Nishiki, Jingu and Kazama’s names were all translated as Sanada (??) and Yumi was translated as... Jenny even though you could HEAR THEM SAYING THE NAMES.
21.  Kazama’s name was also translated to Majima, and then finally to Kazuro for some fucking reason
22. There is no explanation to why or how the ten billion is stolen. It just Was. The how is the most confusing part, as it is not a digital transaction, it is literally a comedically huge pile of cash as per the game
23. A helicopter causes a magnitude 6.1 earthquake and just casually smashes through some buildings, but is undamaged. Majima’s masochistic basement slut prays to be crushed by the helicopter earthquake. It also vibrates Majima back to life after he’s shot by Kiryu’s dad for sitting on Kiryu’s face (see above)
24. A very dramatic scene of Kiryu drinking an energy drink while the seven grown men who surround him scream
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(he then bursts into flame)
25. The Korean assassins assassinate Jingu who is literally onscreen for 1 second. Yumi now blows herself up for no reason. Kiryu does not try to stop her. Kiryu respects her resolve, and his enormous cake saves him and Haruka from being crushed by the resulting rubble
26. majima just crawls out through karumocho to the batting cages to dramatically die on their stairs. His drama is foiled by a sneeze, and he realizes he is in fact not dying, but may have just caught a cold.
27. Kiryu absolutely seems to love Majima even though Majima literally murders people, beats him to a pulp, and tries to actually kill him.
28. It is never explained who Kazama is. He just appears out of the blue, and vanishes into money-filled mist at the end.
29. The violence swings between goofy gags and actually good fighting (classic yakuza), nothing is explained unless you’ve played the game, kiryu, the main protagonist spends half his time wandering around aimlessly with a girl and a dog (not explained why he has acquired these, at some point in the movie they just Appear), and at one point I think it turned into a musical so briefly that it seems like I imagined that scene
30. All in all 10/10, would watch again. Please, somebody make a friend who has never played Yakuza watch this and see what they make of it
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emoboijk · 5 years ago
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jjk | stardust
we’re all made of stardust, looking to find each other again; one time for the present, two times for the past —soulmate au
12,356 words
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Jeongguk doesn't really know why he's here. Well, he knows why. Taehyung's his friend after all. Jeongguk would do anything for him: walk through fire or start a fight. Unfortunately, that also means going to his parties. Not that he doesn't like parties! He just... he also likes video games and beer in his apartment and getting enough sleep for practice the next day.
God, Jeongguk likes sleeping.
Any other night Jeongguk might be three drinks in by now and chugging a fourth, but tonight he's exhausted and he wants to play Overwatch. Any other night he could push the extroverted part of himself to the surface and force himself to have a good time until he actually does. But tonight…
Even the buzz from his beer doesn't lift his spirits.
Tired of watching the stillness of his beer in its red cup, he pulls his attention back to the party. Everyone's crammed into Jimin's and Taehyung's shared apartment. There are various snack foods laid out on the coffee table and in the kitchen. Bottles of hard liquor mingle with dozens of six-packs of beer. There's trash... everywhere.
Jeongguk glances at the watch on his wrist. 12:02 AM.
His eyes do a quick scan, like always, for his friends (it makes him feel better to keep track). Jimin is plastered and fully committed to a game of drunk Jenga with a couple girls from the Poli Sci department and an equally plastered Seokjin. Hobi is teaching a girl from their dance class how to do an advanced hip hop move despite the rather slow Sam Smith song playing over the speakers. Taehyung is talking enthusiastically by the kitchen bar with Namjoon and a few guys Jeongguk doesn't know. It takes him a second to find Yoongi but he eventually spots him in a secluded corner, smirking with some girl from the Music department.
Jeongguk feels lonely. Just for a moment, leaning against the wall with his half-empty cup of beer, observing the party instead of participating in it, he feels lonely. He and the others have been close for so long, have been like brothers for so long... when he realizes that things won't always be this way and they each have their own lives to live... loneliness hits him like a gunshot.
He downs the rest of his beer in one drink, chucking the empty cup in a nearby trash can perfectly without paying attention. He waves absently to Taehyung and the others on his way out, slipping into his jacket and opening the door.
That's where he finds you, bathed in fluorescent light and clutching a bottle of red wine that has a bow wrapped around it. You look so startled to see him there, to see anyone there, that Jeongguk almost thinks you might start crying. Your face is drained of color and the bottle of wine starts to slip from your hands.
Jeongguk's eyes move quickly over you, catching sight of the falling bottle and moving on instinct. He swipes the bottle before it hits the floor, placing one hand on your shoulder to keep you steady.
"Close one," he says, handing it back to you. He doesn't realize that he's too close until you flinch at the feeling of his breath on your cheek. He pulls away too fast, his nose filling with the smell of peonies and lavender fabric softener. Desperation tugs at something in his chest and he watches you with wide eyes, like seeing the sunset for the first time.
He shakes off the feeling and steps aside, holding the door open so that you can see inside the apartment to the party. "Going in?"
You take a step back, hugging the wine even more tightly now. There's conflict in your eyes and Jeongguk takes the opportunity to give you a once over: soft floral sundress, wrinkle-free beige cardigan, soft pink headband pushing back your hair, neat ballet flats. All this and a bottle of wine that... that almost looks like a gift.
You do seem familiar. The polite neatness off your clothes, the apprehension, the hopeless deer-in-the-headlights expression. But Jeongguk finds it hard to believe he knows you from an association with... Taehyung? He just can't picture the two of you even existing in the same space, let alone partying together?
"N-No."
"Oh...kay." Jeongguk releases the door and lets it fall shut behind him. "Uh," he sidesteps you, "bye."
You watch him descend the staircase with a knot in your stomach, following only after you've given him enough time to have left the building. You sigh and hang your head as you descend.
I froze up, you think. It makes you want to cry. Your knuckles turn white gripping the bottle. You feel a panic attack in your throat, the urge to hit your head against the wall making your heart race. You're just so... frustrated with yourself. Why can't I just be normal! Why doesn't my brain work like everyone else's? Why am I so... defective? You think you'll probably end up drinking this whole bottle tonight.
And you got so dressed up, too. This is your favorite dress. On good days it makes you feel confident, like you can talk to anyone or do anything. On bad days, it makes you feel safe, just that much less anxious.
You pause once you're outside. The night air is crisp and it helps clear your head. You sigh into the empty air and let disappointment sneak into the crevices off your mind. At least I can see the stars tonight, you think, craning your neck back to count the golden specks dotted into the inky blue night sky.
You startle when your mind floats back down to earth and the present moment to find him there on the sidewalk near you. He's leaning against a street sign with his phone in his pocket, watching you.
Oh crap. I must look like a crazy person.
Jeongguk doesn't think you're crazy. In fact, you remind him of Namjoon. You have the same kind of absentmindedness. Although, admittedly, Namjoon hides his insecurities better; you're wearing yours on your sleeve.
He's also thinking that you're stunning. The dress and the cardigan and the ribbon-wrapped bottle of wine didn't match the energy upstairs, but it's perfect here. Cool evening, yellow streetlight, and a girl. It's cinematic.
Your eye contact is only broken when a car pulls up to the curb, "Jeongguk?" Someone barks from inside.
"Yeah," he says softly. He blinks, hoping the spell will be broken. But whatever kind of magic that existed before still exists when he opens his eyes. You're still watching him, frozen on the sidewalk. He climbs into the car feeling that same eerie kind of magic snaking around his heart.
That night you dream of him. The way he looked at you on the street. The dewy softness of his skin in the yellow light. The feeling between you both.
You wake up in a sweat, your body remembering something your mind can't fathom. Ghost fingers caress your skin and make your blood burn. You stumble to the kitchen for water, trying to rid your mind of his face. It's 3 AM and you lie awake trying to forget him.
It's 3 AM and Jeongguk needs to sleep. He has practice in the morning, class after that. He was going to do laundry, catch up on some homework. He was going to relax for the first time in a few days, no parties, no plans. Just himself, some video games, and some soju.
Instead, he has long since kicked off all his sheets, skin heated from thoughts of you. The image of you on the sidewalk conjures so many other pictures. But they don't feel like fantasies, they feel like memories. Images of lives forgotten. It's making his blood warm and his body overheat. He burns through his buzz and tries to think of anything else.
The next morning, when Jeongguk's alarm goes off at 7 AM, he feels dead inside but also a little high. It feels like the one time Taehyung convinced him to do ecstasy ("It's a college experience!") and his heart felt like it was going to explode. But that feeling eventually wore off. It's been hours and he feels both hungover and like he could run a marathon. It's fucking wild.
He rolls out of bed, landing on his feet with a thump. His head feels like a 20-pound weight on his neck and it hurts when he blinks. What the hell, he thinks, did someone spike my fucking drink last night?
Jeongguk meanders to his bathroom, wincing at his own reflection in the mirror. He closes his eyes and tries to inhale as much oxygen as possible. If he stays perfectly still, nothing hurts. He hears his phone ding from the other room and he knows it's Jimin complaining. With a sigh and another stabbing pain in his head, he reaches blindly for his toothbrush and toothpaste.
He spits into the sink and looks up at his reflection again. He should probably shave. He should probably shower, truth be told. But he'll work up a sweat at practice so he might as well wait till later. Besides if he even tried to do anything more complicated than get dressed his body might fall apart. He already feels like 110 degrees just standing.
He swipes his phone from the nightstand on his way back into the room.
Jimin: who the fuck talked me into this
Jimin: 8 am dance practice
Jimin: are they fucking crazy
Jeongguk chuckles.
JK: So you're pretty hungover
Jimin: shut up
Jeongguk laughs again and launches the phone toward the bed. He steps out of the shirt and boxers he wore to sleep, relief flowing through him at the cool air on his skin. Maybe I'm getting sick, he thinks.
He pulls a pair of sweats and an oversized tee from his closet, slipping into them before stuffing a pair of jeans and a second shirt into his duffle for practice. He checks there's a full stick of deodorant and the travel-sized soaps Jin got for him forever ago.
He swings the bag over his torso, pausing in front of his bedroom window. He loves the view from here. It's nothing special. His apartment is on the 10th floor, just high enough to clear most of the buildings on this side of town. He can see a mountain range in the distance and the sky. He's spent all semester trying to capture it in his art class, but none of his renderings do it justice.
Then, as he's about to turn and leave, the sun breaks over the horizon and he's struck. His whole body flushed warm and soft pink, an image fogging his mind.
A similar sunrise. A girl wrapped in a sheet wrapped in his arms. The smell of peonies and citrus. A rose gold tint on his skin.
When his mind clears, he's still standing by the window, drenched in sweat. He's breathing heavily but his headache is gone and his fever has broken.
You're already awake when your alarm goes off. You're sitting at your desk with a fan on high pointed at you. It could be 102 degrees outside for how hot you feel. You slept on and off for a few hours, but every time you drifted off your dreams…
You try to clear your head, but his face pervades your thoughts. The dreams were inconsistent and fleeting; there were different scenarios, time periods, and people. But the one constant was him. The stranger you'd met briefly last night.
You run a hand through your hair and shut off your alarm, glancing at your notifications and seeing a text.
Taehyung: you didn't come to my party!! :(
Guilt wells within you and you twist your mouth trying to think of the best response.
You: Sorry! Last minute study group!!
You flip your phone upside down then so that you don't have to look at it. You don't have class for another few hours, but you're so warm that you can't think of anything but a cold shower.
You just stand to go into the bathroom when your phone dings again. Twice in a row.
Taehyung: fiiiine next time then!
Joy: coffee before class?? around 9?
You text back quick affirmative responses and head into the shower.
Jeongguk pulls up to the apartment building in his purple, beaten up Toyota Corolla and honks his horn. It takes three full minutes for Jimin to come stumbling out. He looks almost as bad as Jeongguk this morning, sleep-deprived and hungover but with large purple hickies littered over his neck.
Jeongguk is nearly glaring at them by the time he climbs into the car.
"What?" Jimin says, stuffing his duffle bag between his legs.
"Subtle," Jeongguk grumbles, shifting gears and pulling out of the parking spot.
"Taehyung's a biter," Jimin says lightly. He reaches forward to swipe Jeongguk's phone from the dash and change the music, and Jeongguk catches sight of the Chinese character imprinted on his wrist. Friends.
Jeongguk sighs, squinting out at the road, a pang of loneliness wrinkling his brow.
You're already sitting with a cup of hot apple cider and a book when Joy walks in. She dives through the mid-morning crowd bumblingly, accidentally hitting people and stopping to apologize several times. When she finally slides into the seat opposite you, she's out of breath.
You slide the hot chocolate and ice water you'd ordered for her across the counter. She pauses, somewhat surprised at your thoughtfulness, before smiling and thanking you.
"Sure," you grin and check your phone. Thirty minutes.
"You okay?" Joy wonders, wincing when she sips her hot chocolate and it's too hot.
You shake your head and run your fingers through your hair. "I think I might be getting sick," you say, tucking your book into your bag and sipping your cider again.
"Oh no," Joy pouts, "Are you sure you wanna go to class? Cuz we can totally skip!"
You narrow your eyes at her playfully, "Why would you skip?"
She chokes on her drink slightly and sputters, "Uh, solidarity."
"Of course," you giggle.
Dance practice was...fine. But Jeongguk realizes too late that he's irritable and that dancing isn't helping. Usually dancing always helps; he has to focus so intently on his body and it's movement that everything else escapes his attention. But today he doesn't even know why he's upset so nothing helps.
But he thinks maybe it's because of soulmates. Jimin and Hobi are both in this class, both with soulmates, and they aren't even talking about them but Jeongguk feels like he would rather bang his head against the wall than be near them.
And that's frustrating because he loves them, they're two of his best friends.
He does a series of pop and lock movements that the teacher demonstrated earlier with so much aggression that it's almost like krumping. He doesn't get why he's this angry. The soulmate thing...it's never bothered him this much. He has long since accepted that it's not in the cards for him. And even at his worst moments, he feels more sad than angry…
He leaves class with a half-hearted wave to Jimin and Hoseok before disappearing into the showers. He feels so flushed it's almost like he's going to pass out so he cranks the knob to cold water and lets it run over his hair and back, sighing at the relief as his body temperature goes back to normal.
Suddenly a spasm runs through his body, electrocuting him and sending his mind spiraling. He braces himself against the wall of the shower, the water cascading down his back.
Everything is misty and foggy and the grass beneath his feet is damp and soft. There's a person a few feet ahead of him, staring at the large expanse of the forest beneath the hill. The sun breaks over the horizon and the person turns to him—
"Hey, Kook, you good?" someone says from behind him, a towel hitting him square in the back the head.
No, he thinks, definitely not good. His whole body feels weak and exasperated, his mind hazy with confusion and memories he doesn't recognize. He knows the person he just saw but he can't place it. The memory feels familiar and yet separate from him somehow. His chest tightens uncomfortably.
"Yeah, fine," he mumbles, reaching for his shampoo.
You and Joy split after your first class. She has an art seminar on the other side of campus and you're free for another few hours. You wave her off and turn in the direction of the quad; the weather is nice and you want to spread out on the grass with your assigned novel for Lit.
But somehow, you find yourself in front of the music hall. It's almost like waking up after a blackout, you have no idea how you got here. You've only ever walked by the building, it's by your favorite coffee cart and across the street from the building where you take poli sci, but you've never been inside.
And now you're standing on the sidewalk, staring up at the funky Art Deco designs of the courtyard, with an insistent need to go in. It's like there's a cord anchored in your chest gently tugging you in this direction.
Your brows are furrowed in thought when you see him. His hair is damp and his expression is serious; he's wearing a giant white t-shirt and hip-hugging jeans, and your brain immediately conjures very sexual images in your head. Dirty, dirty thoughts that make you blush and turn away from him.
Jeongguk spots you, too, and it stops him in his tracks. Your back is to him and he can't place where he's seen you before, or even conjure specifically your face in his mind, but your posture strikes him immediately as being the same as from that memory.
His heart hammers against his rib cage and he's sweating, his mouth opens as if to call out to you, but it gets stuck in his throat. What would he say?
"Hey, want to walk together?" Hobi approaches him from behind, clasping a hand around his neck and squeezing comfortingly.
"Uh, yeah," he says, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. When he looks back up you're gone.
Am I fucking hallucinating?
Hoseok is watching him with a concerned look and Jeongguk forces a smile. Best not to say anything, he thinks, it's probably just a bad day.
You're not sure why, but you're hiding. You ducked behind a tree, your heart racing. Your palms and forehead are sweaty, and you lose your breath when you realize why. The dreams.
You peek out from behind the tree to see him walking away with another guy, down toward the science library. You breathe a sigh of relief and step out. What the fuck? you think.
Jeongguk can't focus on his Weather Studies class, although that's not unusual, he spends the entire time sketching out the scene from this morning on the edge of his notebook. Taehyung yawns and leans against his shoulder heavily, peeking at the sketch and saying, "New idea for your art project?"
Jeongguk shakes his head sharply but otherwise doesn't respond. His pencil scratches on the paper rapidly, making quick decisive movements that surprise even himself. His usual approach to art is planned and a bit apprehensive, but he never dives in like this without at least thinking about where to go next.
Now, though, he just has that memory? Flashback? Whatever it is imprinted beneath his eyelids and he can't think of anything to do with it except get it onto paper.
Taehyung watches Jeongguk's profile for a moment in concern. He's acting colder than usual and he's never seen the maknae sketch with such intensity.
Taehyung straightens and tries to shrug it off. It's probably just a bad day. He pulls out his phone and scrolls through his lastest messages from Jimin.
Chim: kookie was acting weird at practice
Tae: weird how???
Chim: 🤷🏼‍♀️
Chim: upset about something maybe? Idk
Taehyung glances back over at Jeongguk, a crease forming in his brow as he watches anxiously. Without looking up from his page, Jeongguk says: "Stop it, hyung."
Tae nearly jumps out of his seat, but otherwise turns away, frowning.
Jeongguk keeps sketching and he feels bad. His voice was colder than he'd intended and harsher. He knows Tae is sensitive to those kinds of mood shifts and he wants to reach over and apologize, offer to buy lunch to make up for it, but he's still irritable. He tells himself he'll make it up to him later.
"Bye," Jeongguk says at the end of class without waiting for Taehyung. The elder watches him go with a frown. He clicks to call Jimin before he's even left the classroom, sniffling.
You end up in your building for poli sci instead of the quad, sitting in the hallway outside the classroom to wait another hour and a half. You're sipping on the sugary iced coffee you bought downstairs, earbuds in, eyes closed, listening to music.
His face swims before your eyes. He's so handsome that it makes your heart physically hurt. He's smiling with his nose scrunched, leaning in so that your foreheads touch. His lips are moving but you don't know what he's saying. A warm feeling crowds your chest and heats your skin.
You blink awake to find forty-five minutes have passed. Your coffee is sitting by your side, condensation pooling on the tile. You press the back of your hand to your cheek and find that you're flushed, beads of sweat on your forehead. You feel woozy like you might pass out.
Someone says your name and you blink up at them, your mind refusing to focus. The person kneels down in front of you, "Hey, are you okay?"
You blink again, "Taehyung?" His boxy smile comes into focus and you squeeze your eyes shut hard before opening them again.
Taehyung tilts his head to the side and says, "Taking a power nap?"
"Um, I guess," you whisper, taking his hand as he helps you stand. You lean against him heavily as you start to fall forward once you're on your feet.
"Woah," he says, "Alright?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm...fine." You shake your head, willing the room to stop spinning and your skin to cool down. Everything begins to straighten out and you say, "Woah, that was weird." You pull away from him and fan your face with your hand.
"I didn't know you had a class in this building," you say.
"Yeah," he rolls his eyes, "there's this logic course I take instead of math." He sticks his tongue out, "Hate it. Logic is for pussies." As he runs a hand through his hair, you spot the Chinese symbol on his wrist, friendship. His soulmate mark.
You force a smile and avert your eyes, glancing over to see your classmates filing into the room. "Oh, I should go."
"Okay, feel better." Taehyung's mouth twists into another frown as he watches you disappear into the classroom. Everyone's weird today, he thinks.
Jeongguk blows off the rest of his classes to run laps. He obviously can't be trusted to be around other people. The look on Tae's face as he ran out of class haunts him; it pushes him to run harder, faster, until his lungs, legs, and heart hurt.
Nothing's helping. He's still so irritable. Like there's something beneath his skin. He skids to a stop when he feels a swell of nausea in his stomach, his skin flushing from something other than running. He stumbles and barely catches himself, sinking to his knees as a memory comes to him unbidden.
"Wooo!"
He looks over. A beautiful girl in the stands with a handmade banner. There's a name on it that is unfamiliar but that is his. Someone bumps into him and he's...playing soccer. He kicks the ball and it goes flying into the net, cheers erupt around him.
His teammates slap him on the back and the girl barrels toward him, arms looping around his neck and squeezing.
Jeongguk blinks and the memory's gone. "You," he whispers, finally placing your face. "From the party." He falls on his back on the track, staring at the sky, unable to shake your image from his mind. "Who are you?"
Days pass like this. Days of endless wandering and a heat so extreme that Jeongguk peels off layer after layer of his clothing until he's laying in bed with nothing but his boxers on. Days of memories and flashbacks so intense it's like a bad trip. Or a good trip? The memories make him feel warm and fluttery, but when they're gone he's left in a cold sweat with a feeling of longing so painful it's like being shot.
You spend the next week and a half similarly. Lounging around in just your underwear and a camisole, fanning yourself with whatever you can find. You can't sleep. Your dreams are so lifelike and you wake up drenched in sweat. And it hurts. The waking up is a nightmare because it leaves you feeling so lonely and lost. You sit up in bed and wonder why you're alone. Something is missing and you don't dare admit to yourself that it might be the person that stars in your dreams, the tall, handsome man who takes you in his arms…
Sometimes you wake up crying. Sometimes you cry as soon as you wake up. Sometimes you stare at the ceiling and wonder if morphine would even be powerful enough to dull the pain.
Jeongguk gets fed up on day nine post-party, and calls Taehyung. It's 2 AM.
"Hello?" Taehyung answers, his voice thick with sleep. Jeongguk can hear Jimin mumbling curse words in the background. "Kookie?"
"Who is she, Tae?" Jeongguk growls, surprising himself.
"What?" He says, confused.
Jeongguk scrunches his face up in frustration, trying to calm down enough to have an actual conversation with an actual person. He breathes deeply.
"There was a girl," Jeongguk says and his voice is like a string pulled taut, all tension, "She came to your party, but she didn't come inside. She was wearing a dress."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"The girl, Tae!" Jeongguk snaps, lashing out and kicking the small trash can by his desk so that it goes flying into the wall. "The beautiful girl in the sundress with the bottle of wine! She obviously knew you, but she didn't go inside. Who is she?"
On the other end of the line, Taehyung is staring at Jimin with fear in his eyes. Jimin swipes the phone from his other half and growls into the speaker, "What the hell, Jeongguk? You can't just call us in the middle of the night and demand answers to vague-ass fucking questions! You need to calm down."
Jeongguk has the urge to throw his phone against the wall. He wants to trash his apartment. He wants to go out and start a fight. "Whatever," he growls into his phone, the line going dead.
You don't leave your house for days. Three to be precise. On day four you realize you're running out of food. Two more protein bars, a handful of potato chips, a questionable apple.
You pick the protein bar and lay back down in bed. You're torn between wanting to sleep and staying awake. Exhaustion coats your skin beneath the heat, you feel it in your limbs and your eyelids. You're so tired. And you want to see him. That beautiful slim face, those bright wide eyes. You want to feel his hands against your skin and in your hair, his lips dragging across your shoulders and neck, his voice floating in the air like music.
It's like a drug. But when the high's gone, you're left with a terrible feeling. An emptiness. Loneliness. You chew slowly at your granola bar, fighting to stay awake and losing.
When you come-to, Joy is in your apartment. She has her hands wrapped around your upper arms and is shaking you awake. When you blink your eyes open she nearly collapses on the floor, "Oh, thank god."
"What is it?" You say and your voice is dry and quiet. It hurts to speak.
"I've been texting and calling," she says, watching you with a frazzled expression, "I haven't heard from you in three days!" She leans forward and cups your cheek in her hand, "Are you okay?" Her voice is gentle now.
You look over and into the mirror, surprised to find red streaks on your cheeks. From crying. You haven't really looked at yourself in three days and it's shocking how different you look. You haven't showered; your hair is dirty and piled on your head, skin oily and blotchy from crying. But it's the sadness, so plainly evident in your face, that makes the tears come again.
"I need you to take me to the doctor," you whisper.
On day thirteen since Taehyung's party, Seokjin organizes a get together with just the seven of them with the full intention of having a conversation with Jeongguk about his behavior. Something is obviously wrong and he must talk to them about it.
Jeongguk goes. Even though he doesn't want to, even though he thinks he will probably end up doing or saying something stupid. Even though his skin feels like fire and every bone is filled with lead.
He's the last to show up and he does find this suspicious but he's too tired to do anything about it. The apartment smells like kimchi and gochujang, and he can hear everyone talk quietly with each other. There's music in the background that's soft and soothing so he thinks Namjoon probably got to the speakers first.
Jeongguk slides onto the couch without greeting them. He sinks into the soft pleather and feels as if he could fall asleep then and there.
"Hey." He knows it's Namjoon without having to open his eyes. "Kookie, can we talk to you?"
Jeongguk squeezes his eyes tighter. This is just like them. To do something considerate and caring and try to talk to him about what's going on. But how can he talk to them about it if even he doesn't know?
He opens his eyes slowly and sees that all six of his hyungs have gathered around him.
"Is everything okay?" Namjoon says and when Jeongguk meets his eyes they're dark and filled with concern. It stabs at his heart.
"Yeah, you've been acting kind of weird," Hoseok adds, sitting down next to the maknae. Jeongguk frowns and tries to look away from all six of them at once. He stares at his lap.
"That phone call to Tae the other night…" Jimin whispers. He was angry that night, but now distress is laced into his words.
"Are you mad at me?" Taehyung squeaks. Jeongguk's head snaps up to look at him at that, finding him clinging to Jimin's arm and looking so upset it breaks him.
"No, no, of course not," Jeongguk gushes, shaking his head.
"Then what's wrong?"
What's wrong. What's wrong, Jeongguk? You can talk to us. What's wrong? They're all talking. Talking talking talking. All their voices jumble and hit his ears at once. And he's so hot. And tired. And woozy.
"I don't know what's wrong with me!" He screams, wrenching his hands through his hair painfully. All six of his friends watch him in shock. Most of them have never heard Jeongguk so much as raise his voice. Now his hair is plastered to his forehead, there are deep purple shadows beneath his eyes, he looks pale and sunken.
"Kookie, when was the last time you slept?" Jimin wonders softly.
Jeongguk clenches his jaw, "I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see her."
A look goes around the group before Jin finally steps forward and presses a hand to Jeongguk's forehead. "You're burning up."
Jeongguk nods, leaning into the cool temperature of Jin's palm. He speaks softly now, exhausted, "For days."
"Maybe we should take him to a hospital," Taehyung suggests quietly.
"When did this start, Kook?" Yoongi steps forward.
"Last week, after Tae's party." He pauses as Hoseok hands him a glass of water, gulping it down quickly.
"After you met that girl?" Namjoon says suddenly, his voice strung with tension, "Taehyung's friend?"
Jeongguk nods, letting Jin and Hoseok guide him to a chair at the kitchen table. Immediately, he leans against the table's surface, pressing his cheek against the cool wood and exhaling softly.
"Okay, okay," Namjoon says, flinging his hands in the air dramatically, "Wait a sec!"
"What? Namjoon—" Hoseok starts, but he's already run from the room.
Jimin sits beside their youngest member at the table, pushing the messy mop of dark hair from his forehead paternally. He presses the back of his hand to Jeongguk's skin and whispers softly, "It's going to be okay."
"Got it!" Namjoon says, losing his balance, socks sliding against the hardwood floor as he runs back into the room. He rights himself and sits on the other end of the table, opening the book he's brought with him and flipping through it.
"Okay," Namjoon scans the page, his finger flying fast down the text until he reaches a certain point, "Ha! Okay Kook, so you've been having hot flashes? A fever since that day?"
Jeongguk nods half-heartedly. The coolness of the table and the water have helped, he feels like someone drowning finally breaking through the surface. But he's still barely treading water.
"Have you been experiencing vivid, life-like dreams, daydreams, or memories?" Namjoon reads, some of the others coming to stand behind him, looks of shock on their faces as they realize what he's reading.
"Yes," Jeongguk groans, "I can't sleep."
"Do they focus on a particular event or person?"
Jeongguk sits up at that, leaning back in his chair and mustering as quizzical a glare as he can summon. "Yes, always her."
"Does your mind wander and you suddenly find yourself somewhere you've never been before but that seems familiar?"
Jeongguk thinks of the bookshop on the outskirts of town. "Yes."
"Have you found any birthmarks or tattoo-like marks on your body since the fever and the dreams started?" All six pairs of eyes watch him expectantly.
"What?" He says, "No."
Jimin's brow furrows. "But what about the heart-shaped mark on your forehead, by your hairline? That hasn't always been there has it?"
"The what?"
Jeongguk pulls out his phone faster than he thought possible, switching it to selfie mode and pulling his hair away from his face. Holy fucking shit. There's a pale pink heart peeking out from his hairline.
"It's a Late-Onset Soulmate Bond!" Namjoon exclaims, slamming his book shut to reveal the title. Modern Soulmate Science and Theory.
"What does that mean?" Taehyung wonders.
"According to my class, it's an incredibly rare type of soulmate bond. As you know, 98% of soulmate bonds occur in adolescence, with a person's individual bond type manifesting around puberty, usually represented by a mark on the body. 1.9% never manifest a soulmate bond at all. And the remaining 0.1% are assumed to have no soulmate bond, but then meet their soulmate later in life, resulting in these symptoms," Namjoon explains.
"But why are they so severe?" Yoongi says.
"Yeah, when my soulmate bond manifested I was only out of school for a day," Taehyung adds.
"Adolescent bodies and minds are more elastic and are thus more adaptable to changes. When a soulmate bond manifests, it takes less out of an adolescent body. It's also theorized that Late-Onset Soulmate Bonds are borne of past lives, and it's only when the two souls physically meet that the bond can be reawakened. Of course, this theory has been often hypothesized because of the memory-like dreams experienced by the soulmates, but research thus far has been inconclusive. At least…" Namjoon says, finally looking around to find his friends dumbfounded, "that's what my textbook says."
"So, she's my soulmate?" Jeongguk says softly. He's gone completely still.
"I think so, Kook," Hoseok beams down at him.
"I...I have a soulmate?"
The doctor is smiling at you so warmly that it's starting to give you the creeps. You can tell she's expecting you to react a certain way - cry, cheer, hug her maybe - but all you feel is shock.
"What...does this mean?"
The doctor blinks as if you'd asked her to explain the meaning of life. It takes her a moment to respond, "You find them, of course."
"How do I do that?"
"It's whoever it was when the symptoms first started." She's still looking at you like you're going to cry from happiness.
"Will the symptoms stop?"
The doctor nods. "Yes, to abate the symptoms, you have to..." her faces scrunches up, "exchange bodily fluids."
"I'm sorry, what?" you stutter, "We have to...do we have to—"
"Oh!" the doctor shakes her head, "While that would do it, a kiss will suffice."
You leave the clinic fifteen minutes later. The doctor is still watching you expectantly but you can't find it in yourself to have a big flood of emotion. You don't feel that way. You've seen soulmate matches in real life before, there's always tears and giant grins. The love becomes almost palpable.
But all you feel is apprehensive.
You'd be lying if you said you hadn't spent most of middle and high school daydreaming of having a soulmate. But after it became clear that you didn't have one...it was just too painful to keep daydreaming. So you closed off that part of yourself with a heavy padlock, resigned to your fate.
You're not sure you even have the key to unlock it anymore.
You're standing on the sidewalk with your phone in your hands. Alone. Joy was running late for work and, although it took some convincing, she left.
You stare at the black screen. You know who it is; you're... soulmate. Your mind skips on the word, it feels awkward in your mouth. But it's obviously that stranger from the night of the party. You can conjure his face in your mind easily now. And if the doctor is correct, you've seen his face from dozens of different lifetimes.
Meeting him would be as simple as texting Taehyung. But there's apprehension caged in your chest like a nervous bird.
Ding!
But it looks like you won't have a choice.
Unknown Number: Hi, this is Jeongguk. I'm a friend of Taehyung's.
"Are you sure I should've texted her?" Jeongguk worries his bottom lip and stares at his phone. His hands are shaky and the smell of ramen coming from the kitchen makes his stomach growl. He turns to look wide-eyed at him, "Are you sure it's her?"
Taehyung nods, "She's the only person I know who could match the description you gave me."
When a full minute passes and the screen still holds only his message and 'delivered' Jeongguk thunks his head against the table heavily. Yoongi snorts a laugh out through his nose at this and when Jeongguk turns his head to glare at him the elder keeps his eyes on his phone. But he's still grinning.
"Kook, it's going to be fine," Jimin says, taking the bowl of noodles Jin handed him and placing it on the table by Jeongguk.
"Maybe she's just busy?" Hoseok offers, taking his own bowl.
Jeongguk hits his head softly against the table a couple of times. He sits up, pausing when he feels the telltale signs of a flashback under his skin.
A small retro apartment with linoleum floors. A kitchen with pale green cabinets. A flimsy card table and folding chairs. And you, in a ratty apron smiling at him like there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
Jeongguk shakes his head and the memory dissipates. His chest feels a little lighter, though, and his fever's gone. The memory infuses him with confidence. As awkward and weird as the next part is, it's meant to be.
When he looks up, everyone is now seated at the table and they are all staring at him. "What?"
"Well, aren't you going to see what she said?" Yoongi asks, deadpan.
Jeongguk looks down at his phone. It's lit up with a message from you.
You: The one I met at the party?
You: I guess we need to talk...
Jeongguk's not sure what he was expecting. But he wasn't sure he had ever anticipated this level of awkwardness. If he's being honest, he was hoping for one of those heartfelt soulmate matches he's witnessed from the sidelines for so long. But you're just sitting opposite from him at a coffee shop, staring at the mug of hot cocoa you'd ordered.
Your face looks so uncomfortable. So, instead, he watches your hands as they trace the funky art design on the mug, shift it back and forth. His focus catapults him into a flashback.
You're both still sitting at a table, one that's small and wooden and sturdy. The mug in your hands this time is black and glazed and he knows that he's the one who made it. You're smiling.
He's gotten so used to the flashbacks now that it doesn't take any effort for him to adjust back to the present. All he thinks about is that he wants to see you smile now, at him in the present.
His chest hurts with longing. Maybe it's worse to know he has a soulmate and not be with them. At least before his pining was arbitrary and foundationless.
"Are you okay?"
He looks up from the mug and you're staring at him openly, your eyes wide and concerned. He tilts his head, "Huh?"
"What was that?" You wonder, "You like...zoned out for a second."
"Flashback," Jeongguk frowns.
"What?"
"You don't get...flashbacks?" He stares.
You shake your head, "Dreams."
"Dreams?"
He hopes you'll elaborate, but you just stare down at the table. His heart feels heavy.
Your mind is blank. You feel so nervous and anxious that unshed tears are burning your eyes. You feel like a disappointment. You feel like you're doing this wrong, like you should be more and do better.
Your bottom lip is bruising from chewing on it nervously. You haven't even taken a drink of your hot cocoa.
It's so weird, him being here. You've seen his face over a dozen times since that first night but it's different when he's here. When he's so close that you could run your fingers through his hair or draw stars on his cheeks or run your thumb over his bottom lip.
Desire swirls in your stomach and turns to disappointment. So many things you want and feel you don't deserve. So many things you had accepted that you would never have and here they are. The possibility hurts more than the clear cut absence.
He starts to drum his fingers against the table and you let your eyes move over to them. It's his right hand, littered with tattoos. There are sets of initials on his knuckles, a heart on the back of his hand, a smiley face on one of his fingers. They're kind of quirky and you like them. You want to know what they mean.
Jeongguk's hand freezes when he sees you staring. You blush and look away. He's surprised to find that this gives him hope. You're interested. There's just something stopping you.
He can work with that.
"So," he tries again, "how do you know Taehyung?"
Jeongguk is relieved when you look up at him. It's odd to think but he really likes your face. Clear, expressive eyes and soft lips. And when you're looking at him...everything clicks. It's like finding his place in the world. Finally, obviously. It's by your side.
You narrow your eyes, "He didn't tell you?"
Jeongguk shakes his head and sips at his ice water. He holds his hands up as quotation marks and says, "It's something the two of you should talk about." He shrugs, running his fingers through his hair, "Why? Is it bad?"
You sigh and sip your cocoa to buy time. "No."
Jeongguk opens his mouth to say something, his eyes alive with the playful comment he had planned, but he's interrupted by a crash.
Directly beside you, a man drops his mug of coffee and it shatters on the ground, splashing your leg, shards of porcelain slicing your ankle.
You gasp, but your reaction is lost when you see the scene play out before you. The man who dropped the cup is wearing khakis and a button-down, but more noticeably there is a large, dark birthmark spanning his cheek, jaw, and neck. Across the room his eyes have found a woman, older than he is, dressed in a bohemian-style, with the exact same mark on her face.
Soulmates.
You'd seen this play out before and avert your eyes.
Jeongguk watches every detail. It's hard to describe, and others say that to truly understand, you have to experience it. But it's almost like the world slows down for these people, everything else fades and it's just them and the start of their new life.
When Jeongguk's eyes find you again, he's surprised to see how painful you find this. There are tears in your eyes.
"Hey, are you okay? I know that it can be—" He holds his hand out but stops himself short of touching you.
You shake your head. He's not wrong, that is part of it; these displays have always...bothered you. But it's mostly, "My leg," you wince.
Jeongguk's eyebrows rise to his hairline and he ducks over and beneath the table to inspect your leg. The whole side of your calf is soaked and the exposed skin of your ankle beneath your cuffed jeans is flushed from the hot coffee and bleeding.
"We should go," Jeongguk insists. Ignoring the display of love beside you, he shoves the stranger out of his way and helps you stand.
Jeongguk keeps an arm around your back and you just barely hear him whisper, "Lean on me."
Compelled by something beyond your control, you do.
You hobble out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk together, pausing as your adrenaline ebbs in the open space.
"Um," you fumble, trying to retrieve your phone from your purse despite being held up almost entirely by Jeongguk. It doesn't help that he smells like fabric softener and boy and it's making you lose concentration. "I just need to call a car."
"What?" Jeongguk shakes his head, "No." Using his arm at your back, he steers you down the sidewalk and away from the cafe. "My place is literally right here."
"Oh, no, I couldn't," you shake your head, but your body doesn't get the memo. One of your hands is twisted into the fabric of his cotton shirt, turning you so that you're almost hugging him as he helps you walk. Your mind won't listen to reason, you find yourself helpless in the face of your desire to stay in his arms.
"Please," he smiles warmly at you, "It's the least I can do." His nose scrunches up and his eyes crease, his front two teeth peeking out in an honest smile.
And now you know: you really are a goner.
Jeongguk lives in a cramped studio apartment. It smells like air freshener and fabric softener and...weed? Kind of. You're frozen in the doorway, leaning against his dresser to keep upright while he frantically clears the floor of his bags and schoolwork and art supplies.
The walls are covered in band posters and artwork (some of which you see is signed with a flourish of JK so you know it's his). There's a magnificent view of the mountains from out his window, mid-morning light pouring in and making the room stuffy. You let your eyes just barely skirt over his bed (which has a navy blue comforter and has been made), and move to look at this desk. There's a massive gaming computer, complete with a light-up keyboard, and different kinds of sound and editing equipment.
"Sorry," he says, grunting as he wrenches up the window, a brush of cold air coming in. "Wasn't expecting visitors." He's facing you, but his eyes are still skirting over his room.
"It's fine," you smile.
There's a long moment when Jeongguk finally looks at you, only mildly satisfied that there's nothing too embarrassing left out, and he just can't believe what he's seeing. You're his soulmate. You're in his room.
It's nighttime. You're standing in a dress that hugs your curves and hovering in the doorway. Your expression is nervous but hopeful as you step out of your heels. He's across the room, standing by the bed, his hands itching with the desire to touch you. "You sure?" he says, and his voice is soft and almost lost amongst the city sounds outside his window. You nod, stepping towards him.
Jeongguk comes back to the present, flushed and a little bit horny. Holy shit, he thinks.
"Flashback?" You wonder.
"Yeah," Jeongguk says, hiding his face in case it's too clear what he's thinking. He catches sight of your leg and jumps in the air, "Oh! Sit down!" He crosses the room and guides you to the expensive, high-backed desk chair, spinning around and darting into the bathroom.
You peek at the polaroids stuck to the edge of his computer screen. You recognize Taehyung and his soulmate Jimin, but everyone else are strangers. The one that catches your eye is of Jeongguk with six others (Jimin and Tae among them), they're standing in a line with Jeongguk in the middle holding a cake. Jeongguk looks younger, rounder cheeks and wider eyes. Scrawled beneath it is written Happy 16th, Kookie!!! -Hyungs
It makes you feel...warm and fluttery.
"Found it," Jeongguk chuckles, reappearing with the first aid kit and a towel. He kneels at your feet and the action feels familiar, like one of your dreams.
"What's it like?" You ask softly.
"Hmm?" Jeongguk says, intensely focused as he wipes the coffee from your ankle and starts disinfecting the cuts.
"The flashbacks."
"Oh," he says, pausing with a cotton swab above your skin. He shrugs and leans in closer as he starts again, "Just like memories. But I'm not expecting them," he chuckles. "Kind of like hiccups? Or sneezing?"
"Do they feel...real?"
Jeongguk leans back and watches your expression. He's surprised to find how scared you look, apprehensive. He can feel a flashback coming in his chest from this angle, but he's determined to answer.
"Kind of. It's like...watching a movie. I know that it's me, and you," he whispers, "and I empathize with them. But it doesn't feel like I'm living it." He looks away from you, the flashback he had sensed fading, and digs through the first aid kit for bandages. "It's like...the universe is giving me proof that it's meant to be. That we've done this before. That we will do it again. That this…" he pauses, wondering if he should say what he really thinks, finding that he can't say anything but the truth when he sees the vulnerability in your expression, "is a love that's meant to last lifetimes."
He pulls a bandage roll from the kit and his face scrunches up into that bunny smile from earlier, "Sorry, I know that was corny," he laughs, "also because this is all I have." He begins to wrap the gauze around your ankle, muttering that he really only has this stuff because of rolling his ankles and wrists during dance practice. But it sort of fades out as you identify the feeling that's formed in your chest...hope.
You avert your eyes, overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you and this light happy feeling crowding your chest. Your skin flushes but not in the hot flash way you've been experiencing all week, more pleasantly than that.
"Um," you stutter because you can't be alone with your thoughts anymore, "Who are all these people?" You wince at your own awkward attempt at conversation but Jeongguk laughs jovially.
He bounces up from his knees and squints at the birthday Polaroid you're motioning to. "Oh," he grins, his face doing that adorable bunny smile again, "My hyungs!" He peels the Polaroid off the edge of the monitor and hands it to you. His finger points to each person in turn as he says, "Jimin and Tae, you know them, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Hobi."
Your eyes follow his finger and then move to his face. He's lit up talking about them.
Your thumb moves over the center of the photograph where young Jeongguk stands, looking almost identical as right now. Completely overjoyed.
"How did you meet?" You whisper, feeling his proximity.
Jeongguk moves to sit on the bed and shrugs, "We all lived pretty close together, in the same neighborhood. I've always gone to the same school as Jimin and Tae, they're one year ahead of me. Namjoon and Hobi were seniors when I was…" he thinks, screwing his face in concentration, "a freshman? I think." He shrugs, "I don't really remember how it began, we've been friends forever."
"Wow," you say, looking down at the photograph again.
"Yeah. Namjoon-hyung is like the smartest person I've ever met, he speaks four languages and is working on a doctorate already. And Seokjin-hyung is so funny and he's helping me learn how to cook! He's gonna open his own restaurant one day, I think. And Yoongi-hyung's a composer! He even traveled with a national quartet once, as a pianist, but says he likes hip hop and rap more so now he's a producer. Hobi-hyung is the one who started teaching me how to dance, he says I'm pretty good, but I don't know… He's the captain of our dance team and is amazing! Jimin-hyung was the student body president of our middle and high school, and one of the top-scoring students in math, and a really amazing modern dancer. He almost joined a ballet company, but he said his body probably wouldn't be able to handle it so now he just does hip hop dance with me. I think he should be a choreographer or something but he's double majoring in math? I don't get it. And Taehyung is amazing! He's a theater major and he's starred in every school play that he's auditioned for, and he's the one who convinced me to start taking art classes. But I think I like film better, I'm not really sure, I—" Jeongguk stops abruptly when he sees your face, frozen in surprise. His cheeks turn pink and he says, "Sorry."
"No," you shake your head, "don't be sorry. They're your family. It's good to be so proud of them."
"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his neck and looking away. I can't believe I just ranted about my six hyungs to my soulmate, he thinks, what a fucking nerd! God just be cool for once Jeon, just once!
He looks back over to you when your phone dings loudly. You reach into your pocket and pull it out, Jeongguk smiling at the corgi butt design decorating the case.
"Oh," you put the phone to your ear, "Hello? Joy?"
You turn away from him and he stands up quickly, wandering away under the impression of putting up the first aid kit to give you privacy. He hears you mumbling into the speaker, catches small snippets of your conversation.
"I think it is going well, actually—""
"No! Joy! Oh my god." He peeks out to see you blushing fuschia.
You talk for another minute before he hears, "Yeah, okay, maybe in an hour? I have to change first. Yeah, yeah, what would you do without me?" You laugh and hang up, Jeongguk reappearing from the bathroom. "Sorry," you say bashfully.
Jeongguk holds up his hands, "It's fine. Everything okay?"
You nod, chuckling to yourself, "My friend put off this project to the last minute and she needs my help. I need to go."
"Okay," Jeongguk nods, trying to hide how disappointed he is. He wonders if all soulmates feel this way when their other half leaves them, even if only temporarily. "I can give you a lift. If you want."
"Really?"
"Yeah," he grins, scooping his car keys from the top of his dresser and helping you stand.
You like this car. The washed purple color, the faded black seats. It smells like the sun and a bit of cologne. There's a stuffed D.va plush hanging from his rearview mirror that makes you laugh. As soon as he slid into the driver's seat he plugged his phone into the aux cord.
The car starts and "Circles" by Post Malone starts playing through the speakers.
"Oh, I love this song," you say, humming the lyrics under your breath.
Jeongguk looks at you like there's nothing else he will ever need. He realizes this is a bit extreme, but it feels accurate. "Me too," he grins, his nose scrunching up in a smile.
It takes you three days to text Jeongguk. Three days to decide that you want to and summon the courage. You feel nauseous when you send the text and unsure. And it takes nearly ten minutes of constant encouragement from Joy for you to hit send.
It takes three days for Jeongguk to get a text from you and it nearly drives his hyungs crazy. He jumps around their apartments muttering, "She said she would text me. She said that right?" His eyes dart frantically to whoever's in the room, "Right?"
"That's what you said," Yoongi responds lamely.
"So I shouldn't text her? I shouldn't? Like that would be a bad idea?"
Jimin laughs loudly and Taehyung chuckles under his breath. Seokjin steps forward and squeezes his shoulder, "Do not. Do not text her."
When his phone buzzes and he sees it's a message from you he nearly starts breakdancing in the middle of the room. Instead, he starts jumping up and down frantically, looking more like a bunny now than he ever has before.
"And?" Namjoon wonders, "What did she say?"
Jeongguk glances down, beaming, "Hi."
His hyungs roll their eyes.
You: Hi
You: Sorry I know it's been a few days…
Jeongguk can't stop himself from replying. He doesn't care about remaining aloof or mysterious. All he knows is that he's been dying to talk to you and now that he has the chance he won't let anything stop him.
JK: No it's fine! No worries!
JK: How are you?
You: good...busy
JK: oh yeah me too
Jimin snorts, reading over his shoulder, "As if you haven't been staring at your phone for three days waiting for her to text you."
"That counts as busy!" Jeongguk pouts, eyes straying back to his screen when he sees the text bubble floating beneath his last message. He hears Jimin say something else but he tunes it out.
You: I was thinking we could hang out again?
You: If you have time
You: If you're too busy, just forget I said anything
JK: YES
JK: Was that too eager?
JK: I don't care, let's hang out
You giggle down at your phone, warmth spreading to your cheeks and crowding your rib cage. Joy peeks over your shoulder curiously, "So who is this guy anyway? I was surprised when you said you had a date." She squints down at your screen, shoving you playfully, "And you like him!"
Your blush turns crimson and you can't force yourself to meet her eyes. She wraps her hands around your arm and shakes you vigorously, "I want all of the information right now!!!" She pauses, a thought occurring to her, and stops shaking you, "But...does he have a soulmate?"
You can tell she's afraid to ask the question. You've known Joy for almost five years now, and she's known about your lack of a soulmate bond for almost the entire time. She knows how uncomfortable it makes you and how depressed you get about it sometimes. She doesn't really want to ask because she doesn't want to ruin whatever happiness you've found. But it does need to be asked.
"That's the thing," you chew on your bottom lip. You're hyperaware that you've never said it aloud before but that you are about to now. "I'm his soulmate."
"Dinner, dinner, dinner," Jeongguk chants, standing in front of his closet with a serious expression. Behind him, Jimin is on his bed reading a magazine and Taehyung is spinning around in the computer chair. "Dinner," he says again, squinting.
"Just wear that yellow button-up and jeans," Jimin says absently.
"Yellow?" Jeongguk crinkles his nose in distaste. He only owns that shirt because Seokjin-hyung bought it for him. The rest of his closet is a spectrum of black and white. In fact, the only colorful items he owns are gifts from others.
"Don't get too goth on her just yet," Jimin chuckles.
Jeongguk pulls the shirt out with a sigh, holding it up to himself in the mirror and twisting his mouth in confusion. He hangs it on his closet door, turning back to his closet with the same frustrated expression.
"It's so weird," Taehyung says.
"What do you mean?" Jeongguk's eyes grow wide with concern.
"Just that...well for Jimin and I, after our soulmate bond manifested and we connected that was kind of...it, y'know? We didn't have to, like, do this whole courting thing." He shrugs.
"Yeah," Jeongguk sighs, "It's hard because I can see our whole history together and it's us but not us? I don't know how to explain it."
It's a nice night, a soft breeze and a clear sky. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as you wait in front of the restaurant, and your heart nearly stops when you see him. He looks like a god. He looks so good. Tight jeans and a perfect muted yellow shirt. His hair looks soft and smooth and it falls into his eyes. And he's smiling, his nose scrunches up happily. He's only walking at first but he starts jogging when he sees you.
When he stops in front of you, you know you should say something but can't find the words. There's a feeling in your chest. Disbelief. That he's here, that this perfect person is in your life, is forever intertwined with yours. You have the urge to run your fingers through his hair and you have a distinct feeling that it's something you've done before.
Instead, you let out a shaky breath and avert your gaze.
"I've never tried this restaurant," he says, tilting his head back to read the sign.
You're too aware of how close he is. Of how good he smells. Of the heat coming off his skin. You want to wrap your arms around him and hold him close to you, bury your face in his chest.
"I really like it," you say, turning away from him because you're afraid of what you might do otherwise.
The restaurant is small because you hate large restaurants that cram people inside. There's soft classical music playing from speakers and warm lighting. But what you like most is the metal archway over the entrance that has pure white jasmine strung through it. You walk through and instantly feel at ease from the smell.
"Oh, hello miss," the greeter says from behind your podium, recognizing you instantly.
You blush and smile at her, a bit embarrassed that he now knows how frequently you come here.
The hostess glances behind you and you see her eyes sparkle at the sight of him. You wonder if that's what you look like when you see him too. When she looks back at you she gives you a conspiratorial thumbs up, whispers, "You didn't tell me your soulmate was so hot!"
Your flush goes darker. Soulmate. She said it so casually. But you suppose it's true. He's your...soulmate. The word feels right.
"Table for two?" She smiles, "I think I have your favorite one open."
"Yes, thank you."
Jeongguk focuses back on you and grins cheekily, "How often do you come here?"
You avoid his eyes, "Couple times a week. I like to...study here."
You sit at a table on the open patio. String lights curl around the wooden awning and the metal fence. Tall potted plants are perched in the open spaces. On the table is a flickering yellow candle and a lavender bouquet.
The hostess gives you both menus before taking your drink orders. You ignore the menu, while Jeongguk opens his and starts perusing.
He's so focused that you let yourself watch him. He's so beautiful; dewy, glowing skin, plush, pink lips, wide, brown eyes. It all feels so familiar. Dinner in soft lighting, sitting across from each other.
Your cheeks heat up thinking about it.
Jeongguk is surprised that, despite how nervous he feels, the night is going so well. You both order wine and pasta and just...talk. There's a familiarity that pervades through the night that he keeps from thinking about; if he thinks about it he knows he'll just freak himself out. He tries to keep his hands busy to stop himself from reaching over and intertwining your fingers with his.
"I like your tattoos," you say softly. Your plates have been cleared and Jeongguk seriously considers ordering a second serving of dessert to prolong the date.
Jeongguk raises his eyebrows and looks down at this hand. He often forgets they're there. "Oh," he says, flexing his hand, "Thanks."
"What do they mean?" you cock your head to the side.
"Oh, the initials are for my hyungs," he blushes, "And the rest just...seemed like a good idea." He runs his hand through his hair nervously.
You grin and boldly reach across the table, your fingers wrapping around his wrist and pulling the appendage closer to the light. Your fingers trace softly over the inked pieces of his skin. You giggle at the smiley face on his finger, trace the heart on the back of his hand, tap each of the initials on his knuckles.
Jeongguk sucks in a breath as your fingers move up his forearm. You spend a long time on the flower decorating his arm, until Jeongguk finally says, "It's my, um, birth flower."
"Tiger flower," you whisper.
"Uh," he watches you with wide, doe eyes that reflect the flickering candle, "Yeah."
You meet his eyes, realizing suddenly how intimate this has become and pull back. Jeongguk coughs loudly, awkwardly, afraid he's having a heart attack from how fast his heart is beating.
"Is, uh, is yours on your forehead?"
"What?" you ask, wide-eyed.
Jeongguk sits up straighter and pulls his mop of dark hair from his face. There's a heart, just a shade or two pinker than his natural skin tone, peeking out from his hairline. A soulmate mark.
"I...don't know." You do the same as him, revealing your forehead and hairline.
Jeongguk's face transforms into a smile, his eyes light up happily. He presses two fingers to a spot just beneath your hairline, "Right. There," he says softly. He looks down at the table, his cheeks turning pink, "Meant to be," he whispers.
You let your hair fall back over your face, blushing.
The date goes well. The next three dates go well. A month passes and Jeongguk sees your progress. It's slow. You keep your distance. The fevers, dreams, flashbacks...they all continue. Subdued but still there.
You feel guilty. You know the solution. You're not sure if Jeongguk does, but either way, you're glad he hasn't forced you into anything physical. It's such a major shift in your worldview...you have a soulmate. You still have to remind yourself when you wake up in the morning.
"I'm not alone." You whisper it to your empty room. Your fingers find their way to your forehead to touch the heart that's now printed there. You stalk JK's social media and text constantly.
But every time you're with him (which is...as often as possible), something stops you. Fear, probably. You're afraid of making it real, of cementing everything.
Jeongguk's happy. Frustrated but happy. He can tell you're afraid, he senses your hesitation. He's glad, too, that things are moving slowly because he doesn't know what he's doing. He was popular in grade school, but soulmate bonds manifest during puberty. Once someone gets their soulmate mark...they pretty much refuse to make out with anyone else. He has little experience, but he doesn't care with you.
Anytime he's within six feet of you, his fingers start to twitch and his heartbeat quickens and he just...he just wants to wrap his arms around you and squeeze, he wants to kiss every inch of your skin, run his hands through your hair.
So he's frustrated. Because of the lack of physical intimacy, yes, but also because he doesn't know what you're afraid of. Or how to help.
And the flashbacks aren't helping. They feel like taunts. Like someone showing him something that could be his if only he'd do the right thing, say the right thing. It's infuriating.
"I think you should talk to her about it," Namjoon says flatly when he broaches the subject with his hyungs.
"Yeah, Kookie," Hobi says, looking up from the game of cards he and Yoongi are playing, "Can't resolve anything if you won't talk about it first."
Jeongguk huffs and throws himself against the couch, whiny.
It takes a week for him to build up the courage to bring it up. Date night.
You made sure to pick a movie for tonight that you'd seen before. You had made the preemptive decision to hold his hand. You did feel...slightly stupid for having to make a preemptive plan for something as innocent as hand-holding. But you figured that was the only way you were going to get yourself to do it.
So you waited until after dinner, halfway through the movie, the sun has set. You're sitting a few inches from him on the couch in the low lit room. You make a bit of a show of yawning and lean over.
His shoulders are broad and round and comfortable. Your cheek rests easily against him and you find a sense of security wrapping around you like a blanket from the proximity.
His hand is resting, palm up, on his thigh and you tentatively link your fingers through his.
You love his hands. Long fingers, soft palms, dark tattoos. It's warm and comforting, and they fit together perfectly.
Jeongguk doesn't need to bring it up, he realizes. This is progress. You're both trying. He squeezes your hand, leans his cheek against the top of your head. You fall asleep on his shoulder.
But it's getting worse. The dreams are so intense you can barely sleep. You keep waking up every few hours, remind yourself that he's real, talking yourself out of the anxiety. And his flashbacks are intense. Debilitating. He had one during dance practice and it ended up with him on the floor. The fevers are so intense sometimes that neither of you can move.
"Shit," he whispers one day, walking with your hands through the door of his apartment. You look over and find that he's drenched with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead. He pales and his knees go weak.
"Woah, oh my god," you gasp, trying to hold onto him enough to ease him to the ground. "You're burning up," you whisper, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead.
Jeongguk shakes his head almost, "S'fine."
His eyes blink rapidly and refuse to focus, "Are you having a flashback?"
He shakes his head and you can tell he's trying to stay present but he's struggling. His skin is so hot and he's sweating so much...you think he might pass out.
You screw your face up. You know what you have to do.
You take his chin between your fingers and lift it up, leaning in and pausing, whispering sincerely, "I'm so sorry I put this off for so long." You close the distance between you both, your lips brushing softly, tentatively against his at first.
Jeongguk eyes open wide, his mind suddenly reeling back into the present. Your lips are pliant against his and he finds himself responding without thinking. He surges upward, his tongue slipping between your lips and into your mouth. His hand threads into your hair and presses your head closer.
Your hands grip tightly at his shoulders, your mouth opening in a gasp as he's suddenly so responsive. You feel his fever break beneath you, your lips moving of their own accord.
And then suddenly, it hits you. All your lifetimes. Every memory, every moment. And it's all...Jeongguk. You understand now, what he meant about the flashbacks, about how they're you but not you.
You pull away, resting your forehead against his. You're both breathing heavily, grinning like fools. You close your eyes and just smile, "I remember everything," you whisper.
"Me too," he whispers, and he peppers kisses across your nose and cheeks, "It's been so long. So many lifetimes." He pulls your hair away from your face and presses his lips softly to the heart-shaped mark on your forehead.
"I can't believe we found each other," you whisper, wrapping your arms around his back and pulling him into your chest, "Again."
"Always," he says, curling into your embrace so that his face hides in the dip of your neck, "Always. We'll always find each other."
"Always," you affirm. You kiss the mark on his forehead and say it again, "Always."
author’s note—i really really really love this; i'm so proud of it omg
m.list :: wips :: ao3
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bananaink · 5 years ago
Text
KeGo December Day 7 - Rant to me, baby
Katsuki was losing his goddamn mind.
Armed with a spatula in the right and a whisk in the left hand, he loomed over the resident garbage rat nursing his bowl of rubbish. Katsuki almost felt a vein in his forehead pop when the green haired menace lifted a spoon to his mouth and freaking ate the concoction in his possession without even flinching. The ends of barely not-spoiled raw spinach vanished, alongside crumbles of yesterday's chips, dosed in soy-sauce. The freaking eighth bottle, Katsuki had specifically hid away from the monster. It was now in the hands of a lunatic, drinking it like soda. Inhaling a – supposedly – calming breath, Katsuki watched the other freeze at the sound and slowly turning his head to face his wrath. When their eyes met, Midoriya – without breaking eye contact – dumped the rest of the bottle into his bowl.
“Dekuu...”
Midoriya took the empty bottle and chugged it at Katsuki, aiming for his face but he wasn’t one of the best for nothing! Deflecting the projectile with the spatula, he watched Midoriya bolt up and run – bowl of garbage still in hands. Katsuki quickly threw the whisk to where Midoriya headed and then grabbed a chair to intercept with his further path. But the little fucker was nimble as shit and managed to avoid a whisk to the cheek and chair to the knees, jumping and sidestepping like a freaking rabbit on the run.
“Give me the bowl, you fucker!”, he screamed and threw himself over the kitchen table when Midoriya tried to use it as an obstacle for him to gain distance. Midoriya squeaked again, bowl holding over his head out of reach and sloshing some of his devil-food onto the pristine floors of the brand new U.A. dorms. A sad and wet cucumber-slice landed with a splat just beside his foot. Katsuki could feel his disgust and anger fight for dominance but at the end they just joined forces against the bigger threat in his near vicinity.
“Who the hell let you in here?!”, Katsuki screamed in rage and Midoriya made this dumb and obnoxiously cocky smile with that nervous edge around his eyes that reminded Katsuki too much and too little of their childhood at the same time.
“Ha ha, you’re awake!”, Midoriya just said, clearly fighting off his surprise at how early he had been ambushed and ducked under a swipe from Katsukis hands. Cradling the bowl against his chest again and ducking under the freaking table, Midoriya managed to evade him a second time. Grabbing the edged, Katsuki was just about to flip the table over and set everything on fire, when two hands grabbed his hips and lifted him from the ground.
“HUrgH!”, came out of his throat in surprise and then he found himself flung over a very strong shoulder, turning around an carrying him away from the kitchen. At that he pounded on Kirishimas back and numbly realized he was still holding the spatula.
“Let me DOWN!”, he screamed and kicked his legs out, eyes boring on Midoriya, who was crouching under the table, grinning, as he smugly shoveled spoon after spoon of his poison into his mouth. Katsuki gagged when he saw cereal vanish behind glinting teeth. But then Kirishima made a turn and he lost the sight of his arch-nemesis. Katsuki dug his hands into Kirishimas back – hardening immediately coating the redhead – and he let lose some small explosions at the sheer audacity!
“I’ll kill that fucker – let me down, did you see what he was eating?! That was my god-damn soy sauce! Let me DOWN SHITTY HAIR-”
“Calm down, bro, Aizawa is already on the move.”, the redhead mumbled, clearly tired and sleepy and with that little annoyed undertone of a not-morning-person being awake at a time they really didn’t like to be. Katsuki huffed and puffed, hitting shitty hair in the back of his head with the spatula.
“I’m gonna take care of this myself!”
But he made no serious attempt at struggling free anymore, knowing his teacher was on the case. Just unhappily wiggling and holding himself up. And not a second later he heard a yelp from the kitchen and saw the black shadow of their homeroom-teacher emerging and dragging Midoriya behind him. Out of the kitchen and into the hall, where Kirishima was just about to use the elevator to his floor. Katsukis eyes latched onto the back of Midoriyas head, the other boy not even struggling against the hold Aizawa had on him and let almost his entire lower body be dragged on the floor. But when the ding of the elevator sounded through the hall, he caught Midoriya looking over his shoulder and meeting Katsukis burning stare.
Immediately he struggled to get to his feet and run, but Aizawa was surprisingly strong for such a slouchy teacher and Katsuki eagerly waited for their teacher to arrive at the elevator, ready to pounce and rip that asshole a new one for defiling the kitchen with his horrible food.
But then Kirishima walked into the elevator and turned around, cutting off Katsukis line of sight, again.
“You can go ahead.”, Aizawas voice scratched over the floor and Kirishima yawned a long and tired ‘Sure, Sensei. See ya later.’
Roaring in rage Katsuki struggled for real because they had taken his opportunity for revenge again and quickly managed to push himself around enough to see the doors closing on his very tired looking Sensei. Katsuki locked eyes with Midoriya and chucked the spatula at him. It made it outside but he would have to imagen it hitting its target.
Kirishima yawned again, unimpressed with the knees digging into his chest and smoldering hands grabbing him, only swaying with the added weight.
“Seriously? It’s three A.M. Can’t you wait until after breakfast?”
Katsuki scoffed.
“Not my fault that fucker woke me up.”, he lied and hit resurfacing memories and nightmares over the head until they stopped making his hands shake. Because Midoriya had woken him up, not childish little nightmares hovering in his room.
Kirishima hummed, now actually sounding more alert, just as the elevator stopped and they walked out. Shitty hair didn’t even ask if Katsuki wanted to go back to his room, just freaking took that decision away from him and entered his own room. Katsuki got dumped onto the bed and sat up, just as Kirishima closed his door and dragged a stool over to sit in front of the blonde.
“Alrighty, listen up, man, this is the second week we're all living together and I’m very tired right now of hearing the same excuse at the exact same time every god-knows-what-hour in the morning. Because no one can hear Midoriya, he’s like a ghost and your room is on the fourth floor, faaar away from the kitchen. So you will now tell me exactly what it is that’s keeping you awake or I’ll hug you now until we fall asleep.”
Katsuki blinked at the redhead and his limp bed-hair and the dark rings under his eyes. And the very real threat hanging over his head.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
Kirishima pointed to his eyebags.
“Do these look like they’re joking?”
Something heavy and ugly washed over Katsukis chest and he refused to see it as guilt because it had been Midoriya who woke him up every morning. Nothing else. Just his stupid face, twisted in pain and covered in blood.
“There is nothing to talk about. He’s just loud as shit.”, he spat and dimly thought about just leaving shitty hairs room. Nothing was holding him back from standing up, crossing the room and hunting for the gremlin again. Shitty hair never held him against his will for too long - just long enough for Midoriya to safely hide himself away where he couldn’t reach him – so Katsuki was fairly confident that he wouldn’t actually stop him now. But this was the first time Kirishima blinked himself actually awake and focused his attention into one intense look.
It made Katsukis hands ball to fists because shitty hair seemed to just know.
How Katsuki still had nightmares about the training camp, about All For One, about All Might and Midoriya.
“I don’t have to tell you shit.”, he cursed and glared away from those eyes, taking in the posters on shitty hairs wall instead.
“If it’s some mushy-touchy-feely-shit you’re fishing for, tough fuck, you won’t find any here.”
“Then don’t!”, shitty hair said and waved one hand in the air.
“I don’t need you to get mushy-touchy-feely with me. Just freaking talk or, or... Ha!”
Kirishimas face lit up in a challenging grin.
“Rant to me.”
“What?”, Katsuki reeled and warily eyed the sudden energy flooding Kirishimas body as he nodded, obviously confident about his offer.
“Yeah, rant to me, baby, I can take it. Use the filthiest and ugliest words you know.”
That somehow got Katsuki to perk up, despite the underlying knowledge that Kirishima was using his competitiveness against him. The black swirling mass of his thoughts slowly wandered to the back of his mind as he saw the most pure-hearted motherfucker Katsuki knew asking him to curse in front of his virgin ears. Even Midoriya and his screams of agony still ringing in Katsukis head took a backseat at the prospect of venting to a pair of ears he knew would hear him. Listen to him.
“Are you sure about that, princess?”
Kirishima pulled the chair closer and land forward, hardened fists slamming together in his signature move.
“Go nuts, bro.”
___________
I’m BACK! Okay, so, sorry for the delay! I had some stressfull days and tried to keep ahead of the KeGo but I haven’t written anything in, like, advance, so I had no chapters up my sleeve to throw at you guys. But I’m gonna catch up now! :D
I should be able to catch up quickly now because nothing is standing in my way anymore! :D
As usual check out @banashee and her stories! I’ll have to go read them myself later, sorry, didn’t even managed to do that :’D
And this is crossposted on AO3 :D
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