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magioftheseas · 3 years

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A.I. to AI

Summary: Post-SDR2.5 AU in while a certain Alter Ego and a certain Ultimate Lucky still have some difficulties moving forward.

Rating: T

Warnings: Emetophobia (mild)

Notes: Hhhhhh, World Destroyer/Komaeda...good...and yet so rare. So, here it is. Have fun.

***Alternate Ao3 Link***

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Komaeda Nagito is

Capricious

Stubborn

Frustrating

Unstable

Desperate

Hopeless

Lovely

Problematic

Through many deep dives, Alter Ego is confident in identifying Komaeda Nagito’s character. As confident as a program can be, although it was not the prerogative to know and understand Komaeda Nagito. The mission was simply to retrieve Komaeda Nagito, the last of the remnants.

It had taken many deep dives. Many methods had to be used. Some involving direct contact from the start, and others requiring more distance, more detachment. All the same, there had been many confrontations.

It is not Alter Ego’s mission to know and understand Komaeda Nagito, but with how much time spent in Komaeda Nagito’s dreamscape, it was inevitable to take notice of and learn such things.

When Komaeda Nagito was extracted—the mission was complete.

That was it.

It was over.

It should have been over.

“World Destroyer-kun! Alter Ego-kun! Destroyer-kun? Ego-kun? Which would you prefer I call you?”

“I have no preference.”

“I do know another Alter Ego-san,” Komaeda was saying. Acting sweet and cheerful. As if there isn’t somewhere else he should be. “The one made by the Ultimate Programmer. They’re much more polite and pleasant than you are.”

“And yet, I am the one you are speaking to.”

Komaeda laughs, smiling without care. But there are signs of tension from the tightness of his shoulders to even the way his elbow dug into the table’s surface with his chin pressing down hard into his fleshy palm. Only the mechanical limb was able to remain completely still.

“You are troubled,” is the obvious observation to make. “I presume it is about the other remnants and my master.”

“Your presumptions would be correct,” Komaeda says. His smile is twitching around the corners. The typical sign of contradictory emotions. Of admiration and irritation. “If you already know, then I don’t have to explain anything, right?”

“Explanations would be...” A pause. “Unnecessary.”

Komaeda seems pleased with that answer, but somewhere in the back of Alter Ego’s coding was the curious thought if that had been the correct response.

How irritating.

Among the methods, there had been direct contact. Komaeda Nagito does not remember this, but these attempts are in fact stored in Alter Ego’s data banks. If one knew how to dig, the footage of those attempts could be replayed. All taken from Alter Ego’s vacant gaze at the time.

A gaze that caught Komaeda Nagito in a state of shock. Which had observed and scrutinized the way Komaeda Nagito shrank in on himself, pulling further and further away from the program’s prodding.

“I’m already at peace, so don’t bother me anymore,” Komaeda Nagito had said. “You’re—an annoyance.”

Irritating.

“Destroyer-kun!”

“Is that the name you have decided on?”

“If you have a problem with it, just say so!”

“I have nothing to say.”

Once again, Komaeda Nagito has visited. How did Komaeda Nagito even find this place?

The answer was obvious.

(“It was just good luck!” Komaeda Nagito had exclaimed, looking so unbearably joyful. “And after spraining my wrist...! It was only a matter of time before something good happened!”)

“I made my own coffee today,” Komaeda was saying now. “It was so awful! So brutal! A truly contemptible and pitiful attempt! I got so sick that I threw up in the sink!” His spirited performance turned downcast in a heartbeat. “Koizumi-san was quite cross with me. According to Owari-san, the smell was so awful.”

“Yes, bile does have a stench,” was the dry, unimpressed response. “The odor gets worse depending on what was ingested.”

“Oh, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda mourns. “I just keep messing up around them. No matter what I do, I can’t help being wretched!”

“That mistake...was hardly serious.”

For some reason, Komaeda’s distraught expression was troubling. Had he, a program, developed a bias? A proximity bias? If so, that was a bug.

One that his master needed to patch out. His master would have to be informed. Informed of the displeased reaction that comes about simply because Komaeda Nagito is distressed.

“It’s not just that mistake,” Komaeda sighs next. “It’s—surely you know the saying. The straw that breaks the camel’s back?”

“I am aware, but that perspective is flawed.” It was aggravating. Truly aggravating. Perhaps not a mere bug but a virus in how vicious this sensation became. “You are not...”

The sensation gets aggressive. It threatens to consume the entire system. It gets to the point where he needs to be reset, but—

Komaeda is...

“I’m sorry,” Komaeda is apologizing. Komaeda gives such a miserable smile. “I’m troubling you, aren’t I?”

“No.” Immediate. Almost panicked. “No, Komaeda...”

“Ah.”

Komaeda blinked at him. His expression changed. Eyes went wide, mouth parted open. An expression of surprise.

“...I didn’t think a program could make an expression like that.” Then, a laugh. “Oh, wait, what am I even saying? You’re not even the first advanced artificial intelligence I’ve ever met.”

Komaeda seemed taken aback but tickled nonetheless. When faced with something incomprehensible, it was...understandable to simply take it in bewildered stride.

“I meant to reassure you,” he realizes now. “But it appears I am inadequate at such a task.”

“It’s alright,” Komaeda says with such sincerity. “Just your intent rather warmed my heart, Destroyer-kun. You’re such a kind person. I wonder who you got that from...?”

Komaeda ponders this as if he doesn’t already know the answer. As if that very answer doesn’t cause Komaeda’s smile to falter.

“Thank you, Destroyer-kun,” Komaeda says next, and it will have to do for now.

Komaeda visits him regularly. Not every interaction is worth remembering, but he finds that he perks up regardless. Sometimes, Komaeda won’t converse much; instead just settling down in the chair with a coffee. Sipping demurely and rubbing exhaustion from his eyes. The only sounds that transpired would be Komaeda’s breathing, the whirl of his robotic arm, and the buzzing of the program.

Komaeda would finish his coffee, give him a simple smile, would leave, and repeat.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

And then, Komaeda lays his head down in front of him.

“Let me rest for a bit,” he tiredly requests. Silence is taken as acquiesce, and it isn’t long before Komaeda Nagito drifts off into slumber.

It’s strange.

That position is not comfortable, and yet, Komaeda Nagito sleeps with ease. Perhaps the other had simply been exhausted—but perhaps Komaeda Nagito felt secure here. With only a mere AI for company, Komaeda Nagito was relaxed.

But not as relaxed as he had been in the program, surrounded by friends who cared for him and encased by a world designed to keep him safe.

He does wonder if Komaeda Nagito yearns for that place despite having verbally dismissed it in the past. He likely does. Komaeda Nagito may have been sincere in the thoughts and feelings he expressed, but he wasn’t very honest to himself. What a frustrating contradiction.

And, yet, the artificial intelligence that has long since fulfilled its objective...cannot help but find this person fascinating.

Fascinating and lovely.

How could something like this happen?

He watches Komaeda Nagito sleep.

Komaeda Nagito sleeps.

Komaeda Nagito does not wake up even when the door opens.

“So this is where he is,” his master sighs. His master looks a bit ragged but also relieved to see Komaeda’s hunched shoulders. No matter the occasion, his master strides forward with grace and purpose. His master then lightly takes those hunched shoulders.

“Do you plan to awake him?” he asks, and it is strange, isn’t it, to have this be the first question he has asked his master in so long. “He has been sleeping well up until now.”

His master flinches the slightest bit even though that response should have been expected. Perhaps, his master is fatigued enough to impair his instincts.

“I...” His master swallows. Nervously. “I do know that he’s been visiting you as of late... Alter Ego.”

Alter Ego is not surprised to hear this. Obviously, his master would have known. Why, then, does his master look so uncertain?

“Master,” he says and asks with all the grace that can be generated from a machine, “Are you feeling insecure?”

There is a reason why there is no such thing as a ballerina android. Subsequently, this is why artificial conductors are much more inefficient for orchestras than human ones are.

“That obvious, huh,” his master mutters as if the dryness of the question had rubbed him raw. His master sighs. Inhale, exhale. His master regards his creation with brief disdain before it’s blinked away, leaving behind a vulnerable, insecure human.

A human which is still more capable than a machine.

“Komaeda really likes you,” that human says, like he can’t believe it or understand it either. “Komaeda would rather be around you than anyone else. Including me.”

“It...” Alter Ego processes this, and finally, finally, he comes to a logical explanation. “It is not about liking me. It is about the simulation of companionship with none of the expectation nor the baggage. Komaeda Nagito is lonely, but he fears intimacy. With a mere program, he has nothing to fear.”

The human—Hinata Hajime, Kamukura Izuru, no, simply his master—blinks at him.

“I suppose that is one explanation,” he says slowly. “But, it’s never that simple. Not with people, and especially not with Komaeda.”

“That seems like a generalization, master,” Alter Ego points out.

“It is, but... Urgh. You’re basically saying that Komaeda finds you unfulfilling, which is a bit...” His master shook his head. “That... Do you really know for sure if that’s true?”

...

Machines are not designed to feel pain. And he in particular was not given the capacity to come even close to pain due to his purpose. To feel pain himself would have been counterproductive. His master had known that. Thus, his master had taken great pains to ensure that he would never feel pain.

Still, Alter Ego had paused and mulled that painful question over.

“It is a sound explanation,” he decides on, but his gaze lingers on Komaeda Nagito.

Komaeda Nagito, who murmurs so softly in his sleep. Smacks his lips. Looks at peace.

“I guess it is beyond your capacity for understanding.”

Alter Ego snaps back to attention. His master regards him coldly and warily. Irritated and insecure. Since he understands his master, it does not bother him.

“If Komaeda Nagito thinks himself fond of me...”

He is mistaken.

That is what Alter Ego should say, but for one reason or another, he can’t bring himself to continue.

It doesn’t matter. His master can fill in the blanks, and given by the way his brow furrows and his expression darkens, his master does just that.

Soon after, though, his master’s look softens.

“It’s a good thing,” he sighs. “It’s great that Komaeda’s not completely keeping to himself and that he’s socializing at all, but... I just wish he’d give us another chance. Sure, not everyone’s willing to welcome him back but... We should get the opportunity to try, right?”

“You cannot force him,” Alter Ego points out. “Komaeda Nagito is not obligated. He should approach you because he wants to.”

Not to mention—

“If you respect his feelings, you should not be having this conversation that he can overhear.”

His master laughs. It’s harsh and lacking mirth, but when his master turns his attention to Komaeda and pats his shoulder, he’s nothing short of gentle. Gentle while wearing a melancholy smile.

“Both of us would be able to see right through him,” his master says. “It’s taken a lot, but I think I understand him well enough.” Idly, almost without thinking, his master moves his hand from Komaeda’s shoulder to card through the fluffy white strands. “I’ll help the others understand, too. So that when he’s ready...”

His master trails off. His master stops. His master shook his head.

“Komaeda...will end up hurting his neck if he sleeps like this. I’m gonna take him to his room, okay?”

His master hoists up Komaeda Nagito with ease. Holds him close and secure. Gives Alter Ego one last wry smile before heading out.

Alter Ego simply watches him go.

“Destroyer-kun, do you think I could speak to you in person?”

Komaeda fidgets. He’s visibly sheepish.

“Did something happen?” is asked in return instead of giving a proper response.

“It’s not that I dislike talking to a screen, but I’d like...” Komaeda trails off, his cheeks pink. He sputters softly, jaw working on the words he can’t bring himself to say. “That is...if it’s okay with you... Obviously I understand if...mm...”

“Is that really what you want?”

“Yes!” Komaeda’s chirpy response was immediate. “But is that okay?”

It would be best to decline.

“It is fine. There just has to be a degree of setup first. Follow my instructions closely, Komaeda Nagito.”

“O-Oh I don’t want to risk breaking anything.”

“It is fine. Even the total destruction of this island wouldn’t be the end of my existence.”

“Ooh!” Komaeda lights up. “Just like Hinata-kun and Kamukura-kun, then!”

Komaeda looks so happy.

It’s dazzling even with a screen in-between, but he is durable so it will be fine.

It has to be.

“Hey. Can you hear me?”

Komaeda Nagito wakes up on the beach.

“...Destroyer-kun?”

Komaeda Nagito blinks up at him owlishly but when he takes his hand, it’s with a desperate grip.

“It worked,” he breathes. “It really...”

“I had thought the setting being the same as the initial Neo World Program would be easiest to work with,” is explained as Komaeda Nagito is helped up. “How long do you plan to stay here?”

“Not long, I just...” Flushing, Komaeda is smiling so wide it looks painful. Yes. It is difficult to take, and yet—it is nice. “I wanted to talk to you. But...”

Komaeda Nagito does not let go of the other hand. If anything, he grips that hand even tighter.

“I...wanted it to be like this. Selfish, right?”

“It is human. But—if you wished for intimacy, my master...” Strange. He ends up trailing off. “My master...”

Komaeda Nagito squeezes his hand briefly. Once again.

“I’m not like that with them yet,” he said. Softly. But, in a way where significance ran underneath the words. Tucked under that light, airy chucker. “Destroyer-kun is my only friend for now.”

“I...”

Strange.

The words.

Wouldn’t—

“But even when I do manage to muster up my courage, I’m not going to forget you,” Komaeda went on, promised—seriously, this guy—“Destroyer-kun. The last thing I want is for you to be lonely.”

“I...do get lonely.” He blinked. Multiple times. “When I think of how you should be with your peers, I get lonely.”

“You’ll come with me,” Komaeda said suddenly. “We’ll work to better ourselves together. You’re much too capable to simply be left to rot.”

“My purpose is fulfilled.”

“Helping the world is surely more fulfilling than talking with me,” Komaeda says so easily with such assertion. “It’s no good to be so aimless, Destroyer-kun! Let’s do our best! You can even talk to other AI! We’ll both be among our peers, but we’ll still be friends, too...”

He wondered if that would truly be the case. It seemed silly that someone called the World Destroyer could build relationships with others—and yet...his relationship with Komaeda Nagito was undeniable.

Perhaps, it would be fine?

No.

It had to be fine.

“We can’t stay like this,” he realizes. “The world is open to us, and we must go there.”

“Yes,” Komaeda agreed, melancholy but resolute. “We’ll go together. You helped me out of the program, so I feel wretched for continuing to ask for your support, but...”

“You are offering yours in return, Nagito,” he said. “It’s fine.”

Komaeda smiles so brilliantly that it was too much for the simulation and the program. But, he shone with a hope that made the World Destroyer smile once again.

#Magi fics #nagito komaeda #komaeda nagito #KamuKomaHina #world destroyer

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tbhwhocaresanymore · 3 years

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Nancy Drew 2x2

Me in my naïveté: surely, the Nancy Drew writers, the best writers the CW has on staff, have run out of ways to bring back past moments and episodes that seemed unimportant at the time.

ND writers: Bitch you thought?

Y’ALL

When I say tonight’s episode made me absolutely lose my actual goddamn mind that is not in any way an exaggeration. My brain physically pried itself out of my skull and ran away down the street.

Jesus Jedediah Christ the way they brought back those five people/ghosts who at the time seemed absolutely unimportant and sent me so entirely off my rocker if I even attempt to think about it for more than two seconds I’ll spontaneously combust so we’re going to have to work around it.

First off, no surprise: HANNAH GRUEN. My bae. My wife. Love of my life. You were only there for two minutes but they were exquisite.

Second I fucking KNEW that dude from the Marvin funeral episode was important. If you’ll recall from my review my theory at the time was that maybe HE killed Owen, but you know what this was so much better.

Okay, to business. At the beginning when Nancy is seeing all of the scratches on Douglas Marvin’s grave and then we zoom out to kind of see the Aglaeca in the side of the frame, and then zoom out more and it turns around and LOOKS at us doing that creepy little swaying thing? POETIC CINEMA. Riverdale wants what Nancy Drew has.

That “unfortunate first meeting” George had with Nick’s mom and her subsequent attempts to prove herself, culminating in Millie giving her the dumpling recipe? Adorable. Speaking of the mom, I do indeed hope we see more of her. Her and Nick’s moment at the end of the episode where he talked about seeing her cry in the courtroom absolutely broke my heart. I can’t handle the thought of him not at the very least having the occasional phone call with her from this point onwards.

To be entirely honest almost every scene with the mom broke my heart. When she was talking about how she and her husband raised Nick to always do everything right and lost him anyway? Hhhhhhhhhhhhh it hurts. The writers said they would be keeping BLM in mind while writing this season, like how they kept Me Too in mind for the first one, and I was a little worried it would be hamfisted. But if they continue as they did tonight it will be nothing but beautiful.

Guys. Guys. I know I said I had no idea how to talk about it but I have to talk about it. That scene in the orphanage. When they find the photo. And Nancy realizes she has seen all of those ghosts before.

GUYS.

EPISODE 3.

SINCE EPISODE THREE THE WRITERS HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS.

GODDAMN DO WE LOVE CONTINUITY AND FOLLOWING THROUGH ON PLOT LINES AND WRITERS WHO KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THEY’RE DOING. I WANT TO FIND THE SHOWRUNNER AND KISS THEM ON THE MOUTH.

Ahem.

Anyway.

I thought Carson and Ace had some really nice moments this episode. i.e. “The guy at the store said it was a one man job.” “I think the guy at the store lied to you.” I am, however, curious if Nancy is going to ever bring her father in on the fact that supernatural beings exist and that she deals with them on the reg. Like I know he helped them out with the coma ritual with McGinnis (McGinnis come back 😭😭😭) but they never really brought it up with him again, and he’s been like kept out of the loop on it all ever since. I’m just wondering if he in fact actually knows and is just remarkably calm all the time, or if he’s in denial, or what. But tbh I do have a very strong amount of sympathy for Carson, and I really want him and Nancy to get back on good terms. At the end of the episode when she brought him the coffee and stuff I teared up a little. I’m an adult, I can admit it. Maybe it’s just because I’m such a massive fan of the books, where she and her dad were so close, but having them at odds especially after they started out that way, is painful.

Speaking of the books.

Fernwood orphanage. Hhhhhh writers I see what you did there. But for those of you who don’t know, in Nancy Drew #9 The Sign of the Twisted Candle, Nancy Bess and George stop at a roadside inn/bed and breakfast type place. At the inn is a 100 year old man named Ada Sydney who Nancy befriends, along with a young orphan waitress named Carol Wipple whom Ada has a soft spot for. The next day he dies, and turns out Carson is his lawyer and Nancy goes with him for the will reading. Long story short, Carol is apparently his granddaughter and he leaves her like EVERYTHING, but when she was young she grew up at, drumroll please!

FERNWOOD ORPHANAGE. I AM DECEASED.

And the Stratemeyer woods? For the same people, Stratemeyer Syndicate was the place that published all the Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Bobbsey Twins, Tom Swift books, etc. You will not be able to find them today however, as they were bought by Simon and Schuster in like 1987.

Back to the show.

When Detective Tamura (aka The Inferior McGinnis Who Can Rot In Hell) said the skeleton was Buddy and NOT KJ (AJ? I’m deaf) I got suspicious. And then as soon as they played the record and only five ghosts showed up, I was all ‘HOLY SHIT HE IS ALIVE’ and then he WAS. At the end of the episode, when they saw the flowers on the graves? You guys I was LOSING. MY MIND. And then the note saying “forgive me -kitsune” aaaaaaah. I am in fact afraid that he wants forgiveness because he sacrificed the others to save himself, but I am praying the writers do not do that to me.

I’m interested in finding out, assuming we meet KJ/AJ next episode, WHY the 1975 group reached out to the Aglaeca in the first place. Nancy and Crew did it because they needed Lucy Sable’s bones from 20 years ago to get Carson off the hook for murder, I am assuming these guys had at least as good a reason. And the Aglaeca herself. Dear god you guys. Odette Marvin. I’ve been saying and we’ve all known for a while, that she was wronged by the Marvin family. But Lordy that’s extreme. Listening to the overlaying recording? They low key abducted her, stole her fortune, her chaperone and the captain betrayed her, she was presumably bound hand and foot had her head shaved and got thrown into the ocean. I think I might be a little murderous too ngl. Although it begs the question, why exactly did Douglas Marvin have her painted into the hall of tragedies? I don’t think it was to gloat. Maybe Odette haunted him after the fact and added herself into the painting? But my favorite theory is that Odette as the Aglaeca started killing all the people who were in on it, her chaperone, the captain, etc., (I assume there were six) and Douglas saw the others dying and painted her into the portrait as a way to warn future generations of Marvins, rather than fess up to what he had done. I also want to know the deal with the first women to summon her, and the mirror? There is potential there I KNOW IT.

If you’re not a Drewson shipper feel free to skim this paragraph but guys Nick and Nancy are soulmates it’s confirmed. I’m not even kidding guys I was in no way shape or form prepared for the amount of Nick x Nancy content I got tonight. When Nick is at her house and they mention how they skipped friendship the first time around? “We skipped a lot of things the first time around.” DEAD. And then later at the Claw, when Nancy and not George came to comfort him post fight with the mother? And then he saw that look Nancy gets where her eyes flit around cause her mind is working overtime? *chef’s kiss* My prediction is they will spend this season building up a strong, solid, foundational Nancy x Nick friendship and then when they give the romance a second go they will be so. much. stronger. I’m guessing season 3 will be spent in a bit of a complicated love triangle with Nick and Nancy (re)developing feelings for each other while still having them for George and Ace, making the eventual payoff all the more delightful.

I close this review - which was admittedly less of a review and more of me shrieking incoherently - off with a plea to the writers.

*eyes turn black*

WHERE IS DEAD LUCY

WRITERS

WHERE IS SHE

IT HAS BEEN ALMOST A YEAR. FOR TEN MONTHS NOW I HAVE GONE WITHOUT HER. SHE HAS BEEN GONE SINCE EPISODE 16. NO SCREAMING. NO CREEPY CRAWLING. NOTHING. WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER. BRING HER TO ME.

*shakes self* Glad to get that out of my system. See you all next week for 2x3, The Secret of the Solitary Scribe.

#Nancy Drew cw #Nancy Drew #Bess Marvin #George Fan #Ned Nick Nickerson #Ned Nickerson #Ace #Carson Drew #Hannah Gruen #Lucy Sable #Dead Lucy #Lucy wasn't in the episode but she's in my heart #the reunion of lost souls #Drewson #Nick x Nancy

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sweet-little-bird-fanfic · 6 years

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YOUNG K - Pure Desire

Masterlist & Chapters: Check my bio for the masterlist link. Idk why but posts with links don't show up on the tumblr's search feature anymore. So, I'll leave the link to my master list there, where you can find the other chapters easily. I hope this is still functional for you guys, sorry for the trouble. I hope you can still enjoy my work despite the technical issues.

Summary: A young writer that's struggling with her work until she crosses paths with an intense and fated new type of inspiration; An inspiration called: YOUNG K!

Genre: Fanfic; Romance; Humour; Smut (in the future chapters)

Warnings: Swearing? ; The hot stuff will slowly begin on the next chapter and after that, it becomes a mess! I promise eheh (っ˘ڡ˘ς)

A/N: a short chapter to create a good atmosphere and background.

Chapter 1- Drunk Hug

I knew the day wouldn't go well from the moment I woke up... 45 minutes late. To be honest, things had been hard lately. I've had been a professional writer for 3 years and I went to live in Korea right after I published my first romance. I bought a house and rented 2 of the rooms to 2 amazing brothers that ended up becoming my family: Kim Jii (he worked in the entertainment industry) and his 16 years old little brother Kim Joon (who was still a student). Truth to be told, it's not like I had been working that hard in those few writing years. Not because I was lazy, but because it was really simple for me to write a story and for some miracle, it would become a success. That was the case until I hit a wall last month whilst writing my third book! Nothing seemed right, I wasn't satisfied with anything and I was simply irritated with my own creation. There was something missing and I couldn't find what it was... But it was something crucial and I couldn't stop wondering if my passion for writing had reached its limits. I was so worried about that thought, that I made myself not being able to write properly. Call it a rocky mistake or an overthinking problem, but the point was that I was 1hour late to meet with my editor and I had nothing new to show him. "SHIT!"

I got off the bus and run as fast as I could. Gladly, the coffee shop We agreed to meet at was near the station. When I finally reached my destination, I was invaded by a strong and warm coffee fragrance, which woke up my senses a little. It wasn't hard to find the man I called "Boss". He had really short hair and was quite skinny, but his facial expression made him look like an angry bear. "I'm going to die." I sat on the chair in front of him and before I could apologise for being late, he threw a bunch of papers on the table in my direction. My heart started beating really fast when I recognise that those pieces of papers were the chapters I sent him by e-mail.

- You call yourself a writer, Miss?! - he said as loud as he could - I'm going to pretend you didn't send me this and that I didn't have to come from England to Korean just to scold you in person.

- I'm really sorry! I don't know what's wrong with me, but I can't ...

- You need to take a break and stop obsessing about writing. We didn't give you any deadlines, so I don't understand why you're writing a chapter a day. - he said interrupting me with a sharp voice.

I didn't move or say anything, I just looked down to my hand and prayed I wouldn't get myself fired. I could hear his heavy annoyed breath and I could feel his eyes observing me. There was a long moment of silence that was broken by his hand caressing his chin.

- When was the last time you did something that wasn't writing? - he sighted - Go out, get inspired. Don't contact me until the young writer I know is back.

He stood up and dressed his elegant coat as he made sure to burn my soul with his reprehensible look. Before leaving the store our eyes locked and he gave me a petty smile, which made me feel even worse than I already was.

That was it. I've had it! I needed to get some fresh air and get away from everything. I think I've never walked so much in my entire life. I explored the city pretending I was a tourist and that I had nothing to worry about. I tried the typical food, went to the famous attractions and even bought some souvenirs. I was now wearing an "I love South Korea" black shirt and a cool hat. Not to mention the bags I was holding with sweets, cosmetics and funny socks for the boys at home.

I grabbed my phone and sent Kim Jii (Bro) and Kim Joon (Baby bro) a picture of some socks:

Me: Do you need socks? ~~ Bro: Seriously... Baby bro: I swear, I'll burn them if you buy them, Noona! Bro: Go grab the matches. I bet she already bought them ME: (T_T) Bro: Ya paboya, don't come home early. I made a mistake at work and had to bring it home ( ಥ ʖ̯ ಥ) ME: LOL... Are you trying to fix it? Bro: BYE! ❤︎ ~~~ Baby bro: AHAHAH I guess it's not that easy to fix omg, kill him Noona! you make enough money to support me, right? ME: BYE! ❤︎ ~~~ Baby bro: YAAAAAAAAAA!

***

Making myself busy during the whole day was hard, but I managed to stay out until night time. I ended up at a street restaurant where I ate too much and definitely drunk too many bottles of soju. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in my blood making me feel lonely and defeated or if it was simply my low self-esteem working really well on putting me down, or if it was the sum of these two. But I couldn't stop myself from thinking about how stupid and untalented, I probably was. I was really strong and didn't let any tear fall from my watering eyes.

- I need a hug... - I said drunk and desperate for some affection.

I stood up and left some money on the table. I was able to walk half properly until I found a taxi.

- Good evening, where to?

- Home, please! - I said excitedly.

For some weird reason, the driver seemed to think I was joking by the way he looked at him.

- And where is home?

- Oh! It's where I live, Sir! - I drew a square in the air with my fingers - In a house!

He stared at me for more than one minute and studied my touristic clothes and bags. I offered him some sweets and after I gave him my address he seemed less annoyed. "Why is he mad? Maybe he had a bad day or something." I thought as I gave him more sweets to make his night less bitter.

It didn't take long until I arrived home. I was glad all the lights were still on because the path was somehow really blurry. As I walked into the house, I could hear a lot of voices and laughs. "Too loud, fuckers." I couldn't recognise all the voices, but they were quite familiar. There were four beautiful boys in the living room with Kim Joon, my baby bro. I get closer to try to find out who our visits were and I saw a skinny blond boy laughing and making the others laugh with him.

- Your laugh seems contagious. - I said with a serious face as I tried to catch my cat.

- Why aren't you laughing, then? - He said adjusting his glasses.

- Oh, I'm vaccinated. Don't worry! - I said hugging my cat and letting her go after squeezing too hard.

Everyone laughed but the blond boy, he made a straight face and tried to look offended. I didn't worry too much, he seemed like he could handle a joke. I saw Kim Joon walking in my direction and I automatically hugged him really tightly. He tried to get rid of my arms and look me in the eyes, but I hid my face against his chest.

- Noona, are you drunk?!

- Aigooo! - I said as I pushed him away - That explains a lot of things, you're so smart! - I said and caressed his hair.

- Ya, paboya! Why are you acting up? - I heard Kim Jii (big bro) behind me.

After hearing my big brother's voice, tears started falling down uncontrollably. I just turned around and hugged him and berried my face into his neck. He smelled really nice today and that made me feel easeful and numbed. My hands holding his muscular backs were trembling, but the feeling of his sturdy hard body against mine made my heart hurt a little less. And when he finally hugged me back a shiver run through my body and made my legs weak. I hugged him tighter as I felt myself give away and I felt his soft and hesitant touch on my messy hair. To think all I needed was a hug from my... "WAIT A MINUTE!" Smells good? Muscular backs? What do you mean sturdy hard body?! And why would he hesitantly touch my hair, when usually he just messes it all up! I stepped back and pushed away from the boy I was hugging. "Oh, my ovaries!"

What a handsome young man! I felt as if his deep dark eyes were invading my soul, as he slightly leaned his head to the left and stared at me confused. He smiled awkwardly at me when he noticed my embarrassment. His cheeks lift up when he smiled and made his masculine face look adorably cute. I was still really confused and didn't notice I was still walking backwards as I stared at his face. And when I finally recognised him, I tripped and fell on my ass.

- Young... Young K! - I almost screamed and then looked around and realised DAY6 were in my living room looking at my drunk self.

I saw Young K biting his lower lip gently as he decreased the distance between us and reached out his hand to me.

- You know my name! It's only fair if I know yours too. - he said with what I thought it was a kind but at the same time naughty smile.

- Fuck.

- What? - he asked letting a laugh escape and bit his lip again.

- Oh! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck me! Fuck! NO! No, I don't mean that, hhhhhh fuck!

- What the fuck is wrong with you, Violet!? - I heard big bother Kim Jii shout behind Young K.

Additional information: Violet calls Kim Jii and Kim Joon brothers, but their not her real brothers. She simply loves them a lot and since they live together they became each other family xD

~~~~

A/N: This wasn't a very long chapter but It was just the beginning! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know your thoughts about it ~

See you next time, hugs from your Sweet Little Bird.

78 notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 7 years

Text

going for the gold | yoongi (m)

→ summary: yoongi is ecstatic when they win the bbmas; some might even say too elated → genre: the absolute WORST crack/smut you will ever read → warnings: masturbation, ass play, trophy play, don’t take this seriously lol → pairing: yoongi x trophy (HHHHHH) → words: 5.2K → a/n: thanks @comfyeol for being my biggest anti i love you comrade (but for reals: thanks for supporting my kinks you’re the best) also, dialogue in italics is said in english k bye please don’t kick me out of the fandom peace

t.k.t. masterlist here

“And the Billboard Music Award goes to...”

The air in the T-mobile area is filled with electricity. The tension is almost tangible as Yoongi can sense his band mates holding in their breaths, their pupils shaking from the nerves. Yoongi’s eyes happen to glance in the direction of their leader, the two of their gazes meeting. Yoongi watches as Namjoon attempts to swallow down his nerves, making Yoongi reach for his friend’s shoulder for a comforting nudge.

If they didn’t win, it would be a huge disappointment for sure. After all, they have travelled all the way here just to possibly accept an award that would put them in the international spotlight. So many of their fans would be enraged, saddened, and dejected because all their effort would have gone to waste. But in the end, life would just return to normal, wouldn’t it? They didn’t need to win, or at least that’s what Yoongi tried telling himself.

But if they did win, however... so much could change. Their lives and careers would change, and Yoongi isn’t a hundred percent sure whether that is an entirely good thing or not. After rising higher and higher at speeds unlike any other K-pop group has known, what would happen when they reached the top? None of these musings would come true anyway, because they couldn’t possibly win, could they?

Could they actually win the BBMA—?

“BTS!”

The crowd immediately implodes, and Yoongi isn’t sure at first whether he hears it right.

Even as the booming overhead speakers start playing Blood Sweat and Tears, Yoongi really couldn’t believe his ears. The crowd is going wild, making Yoongi assume that his loyal fanbase has actually taken over the arena. He sees the sections to his left and right screaming his friends’ names; their fans from all over the world have come to witness their achievement happen before their very eyes.

Soon, the disbelief fades and euphoria rises to take its place. A giddy smile envelops his face as he pats his brothers on the back, all of their eyes crinkling with unrestrained joy. Even as Yoongi follows his band mates to the stage, he can’t help clapping over and over to himself, the rush of adrenaline and electricity finally entering his system and making him want to scream in triumph.

All the years of trials and tribulation have finally led them to this moment, and Yoongi would be damned he wouldn’t let himself have a little happiness. He is going to hold that damned trophy in his hands if it’s the last thing he does.

It isn’t much a surprise, to be honest—Yoongi has been known to be a bit of a trophy hoard. He can’t help himself; he needs a bit more time just digesting the information that ‘wow, we actually won something after so many years of people putting us down!’ The trophies give him an acute sense of accomplishment and contentedness, because it is physical proof that they have succeeded, despite what their haters said. Also, it is always nice knowing that all those shitheads who spat at him are all probably pissing themselves in shock.

So even as Namjoon starts saying what he assumes is a wonderfully sentimental speech, he can’t help but be too distracted to properly understand the words coming from his best friend’s mouth. His eyes flit from Namjoon to the trophy in his hand, his fingers already itching to touch the cool metal.

Yoongi is so distracted that he barely catches Namjoon saying “Please ARMY, remember what we say: love myself, love yourself.” Yoongi fights to keep the grin off his face, smirking internally at the tiny and discreet spoiler Namjoon had just dropped. He can already imagine the uproar it will cause when their fans realize that Namjoon had really revealed the next album’s title.

Eh. The album’s release was still a bit too far into the future. He had other concerns at the moment, and that included getting his hands on that beautiful, microphone-shaped trophy.

The moment the group starts dispersing to go backstage, Yoongi immediately dives for Namjoon. He taps Namjoon’s wrist to get him to pass their beloved award to him. Namjoon hands it over almost immediately, his own two hands shaking from the adrenaline and probably unable to hold the slightly heavy metal for any longer. Yoongi is more than fine with that, because that just meant more time with the trophy for him.

There’s something just so elegant and powerful about trophies. There are sleek and thin ones, like the ones Music Bank usually give. There are more intricate ones, like the one they had received from MAMA.

Oh, don’t get Yoongi started on the MAMA trophy. That thing felt so lovely in his hands, he was pretty sure he could’ve gotten off to just holding it.

This BBMA trophy, on the other hand? Completely different from anything he has ever held. It is weightier than most of the trophies they have received, and the ribs along the microphone figure feel pleasant to his touch. The golden plaque, along with the black base, provides a great place for his fingers to find purchase on.

In short, Yoongi is fucking enamored.

Their walk to backstage is as noisy as per usual, but what did anyone expect with BTS? He can hear his band mates all hooting and jumping in glee, even high-fiving the presenters and other staff they pass by. But Yoongi remains quiet, his eyes only trained on the love of his—

“HYUUUUUNG WE DID IT!” He hears Jimin scream, who runs toward him to hug him semi-aggressively. Yoongi curses, the sudden weight of his dongsaeng almost making him lose his grip on the trophy.

“Jimin! You almost made me drop the trophy,” Yoongi chastises, but the grin on Jimin’s face is anything but apologetic.

“So what? We got this cool pop-up thing as proof enough! Isn’t this prettier than that lump of metal?” Jimin snorts, holding the aforementioned card with pride. Yoongi isn’t sure what type of drugs this kid was on if he even considered the thought that a piece of paper was worth more than this golden statue.

“Are you even hearing yourself speak? How can that arts and craft piece of paper even begin to compare to this wonderful masterpiece?”

Jimin only laughs harder, his absolute happiness only making his giggle rise to a cute squeak. “Oh hyung, you and your trophies! You’ve always liked them better than anything else in the world, huh?”

Yoongi recoils, the comment searing itself into his brain. “What did you say?” he splutters, but Jimin has already walked ahead of him.

While the rest of his members have all walked away to the interviewing sections, his feet grind to a halt instead. He stands stuck to the wall, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

What had Jimin meant when he said ‘he like them better than anything else?’ That is absolutely ridiculous! He likes a lot of things more than trophies: his family, music, lamb skewers, sleep, his members (most of the time), and...

The trophies...

Ok, maybe he holds trophies quite high up in his list, but there’s no harm to that, is there? It’s ok to like material things once in a while, especially since he has earned it fair and square. Yoongi decides to just shrug off the thought, and instead he laughs nervously at himself for even hyper analyzing Jimin’s passing comment.

Why had he been so bothered?

“Oy, Yoongi-ah! Why are you still standing there? We’re making the kind interviewer wait!” Seokjin appears from behind a crowd of media team members, his hands on his hips in his trademark motherly stance. He can hear his other members giggling, always excited to see their eldest hyung scold the second eldest hyung.

Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he gives his roommate his most deadpan stare. “Yeah, yeah. No need to nag so much. I was just tying my shoe.” He lies, but it seems to appease the elder.

Yoongi is about to follow Seokjin when one of the BigHit managers taps him on the shoulder.

“Oh, Yoongi-ssi! Let me take that trophy from you; it must be heavy.” The well-meaning hyung says, not waiting to hear Yoongi’s protests as he promptly takes it away. The manager-hyung slaps him good-naturedly on the back, but Yoongi just wants to scream in anguish. “Wouldn’t want you to carry the heavy thing while doing your hundreds of interviews, huh?”

Yoongi would not, in fact, have minded very much. But there isn’t much he can say on the matter, because the manager-hyung has already walked away.

So when Yoongi finally joins the rest of his members, they all immediately sense the sudden drop in his mood. (Yoongi has the tendency to let his pout become a hundred times more prominent when things don’t end up his way; Namjoon says it’s cute.)

“Aww, hyung is pouting again!” Namjoon laughs, draping an arm around his shoulder. The lady interviewer smiles at the display of camaraderie, despite not understanding the Korean words being spoken.

“Wow, it looks like all of you are really close to one another!” The interviewer squeals, causing the others to laugh congenially. Yoongi does not laugh.

“Oh, we are! I was just saying how he,” Namjoon points at Yoongi, who frowns even more, “is pouting more so than usual today.”

“Why is he pouting? I’m sure you all should be smiling until your mouths fall off, especially after that phenomenal win!”

“It’s because he can’t flaunt the trophy off to the cameras!” Jimin shouts giddily, making Yoongi’s head snap at him.

“You little--!”

“Anyway,” Namjoon cuts him off, a stern glare on his face. Yoongi’s mouth clamps shut, and he forces a smile (a grimace) on his face. “Of course we’re ecstatic! Mr. Suga over here is probably just pouting because he wasn’t able to introduce himself to Nicki Minaj earlier.”

“Oh! You saw her? Who else have you met?”

And so, the interviews go on and on, with most of the questions being generally about the same thing. Eventually, Yoongi is able to take his mind off the trophy for the rest of the night, since the general giddy atmosphere from his group mates have slowly affected him as well. By the end of the night, he has forgotten all about the trophy, and even dances along to the remaining performances by the other western artists.

It is only when they return to the hotel room does he finally remember.

“Hey hyung! The manager-hyung says that they want to take some group pictures of us with the trophy for promotional pictures. Let’s go!” Taehyung enters the room without knocking, immediately rushing up to Yoongi and pulling him away from his unfinished meal without so much as waiting for a response.

“Wait, you brat! I haven’t even put my chopsticks down yet,” Yoongi grumbles, but Taehyung only laughs, grabbing the chopsticks out of his hand and just placing them on some random table.

“Too slow, too slow! And shit, your suit is already wrinkled! The coordi-noonas are going to get pissed! They need to do some touch-ups before we take those pictures,” Taehyung hums, grabbing Yoongi’s hand to pull him faster to the other room. “C’moooon why are you so slow!”

“Why are you so annoying?” Yoongi retorts, but he is too distracted by Taehyung’s words to really be too irritated.

They are going to take a picture with the trophy again.

When they reach the room where they will be having their mini photo shoot, everyone has already gathered. The coordi-noonas immediately pounce on him, all of them tutting at his messy suit and the small piece of rice still stuck to his upper lip.

“Hey, at least I haven’t taken my suit off!” He defends himself, but his mind is elsewhere. More specifically, where the fuck is—

“You looking for this, hyung?” Jimin appears out of nowhere, holding the trophy in front of Yoongi’s face. Yoongi restrains himself from making grabby motions for the object, fighting to keep a calm and collected stare despite his mind screaming ‘take it take it take it take it!’

If Jimin is fazed by Yoongi’s tense glare, he chooses not to comment. Instead he says, “It’s a beautiful trophy, isn’t it? Nicer than even the MAMA trophy, huh?” Jimin sighs dreamily, pretending to use the trophy like a barbell. Yoongi’s eyes follow the motion like a pendulum.

“Heck, it even has a greater grip too! My hands wrap around it perfectly, almost like it’s made for it.” He says, and Yoongi has to suppress the choked gasp from coming out of his mouth.

“What the fuck Jimin?”

Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. “What? Was it something I said?”

Saved yet again by circumstance, Yoongi doesn’t get to reprimand Jimin for his “unintentional” innuendo since the photographer-hyung was already calling them to go to their places.

“Alright, you’re good to go Yoongi-ssi.” The coordi-noona pats him on the back, breaking him from his slight reverie. Yoongi remembers to thank her before going to join the rest of his friends, where Jimin has already situated himself in the middle (with the trophy no less.)

“Look at Jiminie! He’s in the middle again,” Jungkook laughs, earning a soft slap from Jimin.

“That’s Jimin-hyung to you! And fine, I’ll get out of the middle. Who wants to stand here with the trophy?” He asks, before his gaze lands on Yoongi.

Yoongi isn’t sure if he had actually seen Jimin smirk or not.

“Ah! Yoongi-hyung, you should be in the middle this time! After all, you’re as short as I am anyway,” he teases, and Yoongi’s signature pout makes another appearance.

“Hey, I’ll have you know that I am at least 1cm taller—“

“Aw sheesh hyung, let’s move it! I’m ready to get back to my room and drink!” He hears Hoseok whine, earning a whistle of agreement from Seokjin.

Jimin then shoves the trophy in Yoongi’s hand, which he almost drops in surprise. Luckily, the trophy indeed has a good grip, so Yoongi manages to hold it steady in his hands.

Yoongi barely gets to relish in the feeling of the magnificent weight in his hands before the photographer was calling them to focus.

“Alright boys, I need your best smiles for the camera! Yoongi, make sure to face the trophy just right—no, tilt it a bit to the left—perfect.” He raises a thumbs up, and he immediately starts the session.

Out of all of them, Yoongi was probably smiling the largest.

“Thank you everyone for your hard work! You can all go nuts now; just know we have to wake up at 6AM tomorrow so don’t go too wild, alright kids?” their manager-hyung jokes, causing everyone to chuckle lightly.

“Oh, don’t worry hyung! We’re responsible. Can’t say the same for Yoongi-hyung, though!” Jimin laughs, making Yoongi shoot another glare at the younger.

“Why do you keep trying to pick a fight, huh?” He growls, but he can never really stay mad at the cute kid, so the threat pretty much dies at the sight of Jimin’s mischievous grin.

Before Jimin could reply however, their manager-hyung intercepts the conversation. “Yoongi-ssi? You can give me back the trophy now; the photoshoot is over.” He says, his hand already extended to reach for the trophy.

Yoongi panics, fear seizing him at losing touch with the trophy again. ‘Think, think, think...!’

“Um, can I return it tomorrow instead? I want to take some pictures of the trophy to send to my, uh, parents. They want to see how the trophy looks like, you know?” Perfect, Yoongi! Sounds just about believable.

Manager-hyung’s eyebrows furrow. “You can just take a photo right now though?”

Fuck. “Um... I want better lighting?”

Luckily or unluckily, Jimin saves him (unintentionally or not). “Aww, don’t mind him! He’s not gonna do anything bad to it. I’m sure Yoongi-hyung will return it good as new tomorrow.”

(Yoongi makes a mental note to buy something nice for his dongsaeng when they get back. Maybe treat him to some barbeque.)

“Well, I suppose.” Manager-hyung acquiesces, but not before giving Yoongi a stern look. “I want that trophy back tomorrow morning, ok? No tomfoolery, or else Bang PD-nim will have both our heads, understood?”

Yoongi barely manages to shoot him a discernable nod before he was already out of the room in a flash, almost slamming the door on the way out. Despite the room being close to his own hotel room, Yoongi’s out of breath by the time he locks his door.

With his heart beating frantically, Yoongi strides over to his bed, placing the trophy with extreme delicateness on the soft linens as if it were ready to crumble in any second. Yoongi sits beside it in wonder, his eyes never leaving its shiny tinge for even a moment.

He finally has the trophy all to himself.

...now what?

Well, he supposes he should take those pictures for his parents; they would probably want to print the pictures to display in their restaurant for everyone to see. Yoongi whips out his phone and snaps the few shots, taking care to take pictures from different angles to give his parents an array of choices.

Once he finishes, however, Yoongi is back at a loss. What does he do with a trophy for a whole night to himself? Why had he even wanted “alone time” with it anyway? In retrospect, he supposes he must have sounded weird when he asked to keep the trophy for a whole night. What could he even do with it?

Well, he guesses he should probably clean it, as he notices the numerous smudged fingerprints adorning the shiny paint. He grabs a small towel from his bathroom, wetting it slightly and begins to wipe the dirt away gently.

Even through the towel, he could still feel the ribbed texture of the microphone statue against his fingers, the rough feeling almost soothing to his touch.

After a few minutes of rubbing away however, Yoongi starts to get frustrated, seeing that almost none of the fingerprints were fading away.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbles to himself, furiously scrubbing the surface to no avail. “Maybe if I clean all the sides all at once...?” he trails off, forming a circle with his hands and rigorously just—

Starts pumping the trophy. With the towel. And his hands.

Yoongi pauses in his ministrations.

This is definitely not a good mental image that he wants people knowing about.

At once, Yoongi drops the towel and trophy as if they were boiling, flinching slightly when the award almost bounces off the bed. He just barely catches the trophy before it hits the floor, cradling it to his chest.

“Phew, that was close.” He sighs, glancing briefly at the trophy before placing it on his bedside table, still slightly spooked.

It’s not like Yoongi hasn’t done anything like that before. After all, he is a young man, and young men always have certain needs attended to. But why was he so affected by just touching the trophy like that? Sure, it sort of those look phallic, if you squint hard enough—

Woah there, Yoongi. You’re going into some serious kink territory right now. The fact that he just openly admits to himself that the trophy even looks remotely dick-esque is pretty bad, but it’s not like he’s going to fuck the trophy, right?

...right?

Holy shit, Yoongi is definitely not considering that. No fucking way. Sure, he hasn’t gotten off in a while, but that didn’t mean he is desperate enough to shove a trophy up his ass. He could always rub one out like a normal dude, which is definitely what he’s going to do. Right now.

He’s definitely not putting down his pants because he’s going shove the BBMA up his ass. He isn’t stupid.

Clad now only in his very rumpled dress shirt, Yoongi pauses as he stares at his still mostly flaccid dick, unsure how to start. He hasn’t exactly done this in a while, and he isn’t necessarily in frantic need or anything. But he already has his pants off and dick out, so he might as well just get this show on the road.

His usual spank bank usually consisted of old exploits with old partners, most of which really got his mind reeling and did the job well. But as he tries remembering one of his typical sexcapades, he finds that none of them seem to be working. He even tries thinking of some of the people he saw today (he had met a lot of people today, and majority of them were pretty good-looking) but he really couldn’t get Yoongi Jr. to cooperate.

By sheer coincidence as he tries to get his cock to respond, his eyes shift to the trophy that may have started this whole ordeal in the first place. He eyes the trophy warily, until he feels it—

Blood is actually rushing southwards. ‘What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—‘ Yoongi curses internally, but he can’t deny the strangely arousing idea of taking something so huge. OK, he fucking said it. He will admit it; he kind of wants to take the thing up his ass.

Yoongi is definitely no stranger to the wonders of his prostrate. In fact, whenever he has time to properly take care of himself, he often wanders south to pleasure himself, relishing in the sweet sensation of letting go completely untouched.

He’s definitely never taken something that wide before, and he’s honest to God scared to even attempt trying.

But it was there, staring at him. Urging him, tempting him.

Oh, fuck it. If it didn’t work out, he could always just stop anyway. Right?

Without thinking too hard about the consequences, Yoongi dives over his bed to his suitcase, rummaging quickly for his emergency bottle of lube and a condom. He stares dubiously at the pack of condoms for a second, wondering if the latex could properly cover the wide head of the award.

“Well, if people can wear condoms on their heads, I guess this will work.” He shrugs, before finally preparing his makeshift dildo.

He begins by brushing his fingertips over his back, the softness of his own touch sending shivers down his spine. He flips the cap of his lube with his other hand, fumbling to get some of it onto his fingers, trying to warm it up a bit before spreading it all around his rim.

He can already feel himself loosen in anticipation, his hole already awaiting the welcome intrusion. He chooses not to prolong it any longer and promptly presses a single finger into his ass.

“Ahh... nice.” He hisses, a grin already forming on his face but the night was barely over. He feels himself arch slightly as he wriggles his finger experimentally. Oh boy, he is going to need a lot more fingers to prepare himself for the upcoming storm.

By now, his dick has reached full mast, the anticipation making him almost shake like a leaf. His head is leaking profusely, but he refuses to touch himself. Instead, he starts pumping his finger in and out of his hole, loosening himself up even further before deciding he is ready for another finger.

Yoongi is generally a pretty quiet guy, especially during sex. So even he surprises himself when he lets out a loud gasp at the entrance of his second finger, causing him to bite his lip to suppress the following whimpers.

He never used to go crazy over two little fingers. It usually took thicker objects to get him very worked up, but he guesses that it all had to do with not having pleasured himself in so long.

He still needs more preparation, however, so the cycle continues until he is pretty much four fingers deep. His breaths have gotten heavier and heavier as time goes on, his teeth wearing his lips almost thin as he tries to stop his moans from escaping. He isn’t very sure how thin the walls around here are, and he isn’t really looking forward to someone finding out what he’s doing.

Eventually, he decides he can’t take it anymore and wants the trophy up his ass now. His dick is still crying for his attention, but he grits his teeth harder, wanting the pure sensation of release without any external help (because everyone knew that Yoongi was more of an ass man anyway.)

He pops his fingers out of his hole, barely muffling his groan as the feeling of emptiness makes him feel a little uncomfortable. He grabs one of the condom packets he had placed on the bedside table, taking his time as he tries to fit the rubber around the statue.

“How do those idiots on the internet do it?” Yoongi grumbles impatiently, having snapped the condom by accident as the thin elastic on the bottom could not properly encase the large head. It takes a few more tries before Yoongi finally gets the stupid thing on, before promptly drizzling a huge amount of lube all over it.

Yoongi knows that he would be stupid trying to fit the entire thing in his hole, so he is only really aiming to get the ribbed microphone head inside. He hopes that the rough texture feels as good in his ass as it does on his fingers, because he would really regret his life the moment things go awry. And oh boy, a lot of things can go awry (a complete understatement.)

With the trophy sufficiently lubed up, Yoongi takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself on what he is about to do.

Holy fuck. He really is the stupidest motherfucker alive.

“God, don’t reject me when I try to enter heaven,” he pleads to no one in particular, before grasping the award in his hand and positioning it over his waiting entrance.

Rightly so, he starts very slowly, the head of the microphone almost sliding past his hole before Yoongi positions it more properly. The first intrusion makes his eyes bug out almost comically, a stead strings of “holy fuck holy fuck” sounding almost like a mantra as Yoongi takes a moment to right himself.

When he feels he can do more, he trudges on, easing more of it in until he finally feels the—

“HOLY SHIT!” He all but screams, no longer caring about how loud he is about to be because the ribbed texture has just entered his system and he isn’t sure how much more he could take.

It isn’t exactly entirely too pleasurable just yet, what with Yoongi still too tense from the big ass makeshift-dildo up his ass, but it definitely didn’t feel bad. If the way his dick twitches is any indicator, he’s pretty sure he’s enjoying it.

Like the true trooper that he is, Yoongi doesn’t stop. He goes on and on, while more of his louder and louder whines escape his lips. He doesn’t even fucking care that Jimin is in the next room over and can probably guess what he’s doing—he’s too lost in this weirdly good sensation that he just can’t give a damn.

By the time the trophy was inserted deep enough that only the plaque and base were left, Yoongi was pretty much dripping every type of liquid from every available orifice on his body. His cock was weeping, his mouth was drooling, and his ass was wet as the ocean. Only thing left was if his nose started bleeding and his ears started leaking his liquefied brains all over the bed.

Yoongi couldn’t move; he wasn’t sure if he should. He tries shifting from his kneeling position into something more comfortable, but his movement jostles the trophy in just a way that it touches his prostrate, making Yoongi cry out in pleasure.

“Fuck!” He screams, instinctively going to grasp his cock to prolong the pleasure. He pumps himself a few times before managing to gather enough mental fortitude to stop himself. He forces himself to move his hand instead to grasp the base of the trophy.

After a few seconds of mentally debating himself, he realizes that he’s already too far-gone not to forge ahead. On the count of three, he slowly pulls out before plunging shallowly back in, his pleasure skyrocketing off the roof.

Shit, why hadn’t he done this much sooner? What else could he do with the other trophies they had back home? The Music Bank trophy always looked kind of phallic anyway...

All semblance of proper thoughts leaves him the moment he pulls out farther and pushes back even faster than before. His eyes squint so hard that tears almost start to flow, making him look like he is in pain. But oh boy, that could not be any farther from the truth.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He chants, the slow rhythm he has started making him lose his brain to mouth filter, not even properly aware of anything other than the euphoric feeling of having the trophy filling him to the brim.

He is so gone from this earthly plane that he doesn’t even hear the loud knocks coming from his door. He is still in the midst of rocking his hips back into the trophy when the person from the outside finally decides to shout him out of his trance.

“YOONGI-HYUNG! PLEASE HELP! JUNGKOOK JUST TOOK THE BIGGEST SHIT IN MY ROOM AND NOW THE TOILET IS CLOGGED BUT I REALLY GOT TO USE THE TOILET! LET ME USE YOURS PLEASE!” Turns out, the person disturbing his alone time is none other than Taehyung. Yoongi splutters a symphony of expletives to himself, trying to extract the trophy out of his ass as quickly as he can.

“I’m busy, you ass! Go to Seokjinnie-hyung or something!” He calls back, groaning when the trophy is finally removed. God, he’s never felt so fucking empty, and now he’s just 100% more pissed than he normally is.

“SEOKJIN-HYUNG IS OUT WITH HOBI-HYUNG AND NAMJOONIE-HYUNG AND JIMIN WON’T LET ME IN FOR SOME REASON! PLEASE HYUNG, I’M REALLY GONNA—“ Taehyung is still in the midst of his rant when Yoongi finally opens the door.

Yoongi had to hastily put on his pants and hide the, er, evidence away from prying eyes as quickly as he could, all while willing his painfully hard erection to go away. But the more Yoongi looked at Taehyung’s “I-got-the-massive-shits” face, the more quickly his arousal faded away.

“Do your fucking business then leave, you ass.” He growls, but Taehyung doesn’t even register his anger with how thankful he is to relieve himself.

And so, Yoongi is forced to listen to Taehyung’s loud grunts as he lets out what he assumes is the best shit of his life while he ponders the state his life has gone in just a mere 24 hours.

He is part of one of the most well renowned K-pop groups in the world, who just won a BBMA. And he had almost gotten off to aforementioned BBMA. Keyword: almost.

“Fuck.” Yoongi groaned.

(“FuCK!” Taehyung groaned in unison. “YES! Mission accomplished.”

At least one of them was happy.)

#BangtanWriters-Net #kreativewritersnet #bts smut #yoongi smut #suga smut #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts #bts imagines #bts scenario #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi scenarios #suga scenarios #bts suga #bangtan #BTS x you #bts fanfic

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two-in-one-skele · 7 years

Text

Heeeeey, another drabble! Basically, I thought about how would Gill react to Yumi not only dating, but also another version of one of his past self. So it made get some inspiration to write this drabble over here about Gill still trying to get over his past with Yumi, despite forgiving her about it.

Anyway, enjoy!

Gill was starting to get worried.

He had been waiting for almost 15 minutes now and Yumi still wasn’t in sight. He had waited in front of her downstairs door, just in case she had something to do that took longer than expected. He even teleported inside, to make sure she just didn’t here him buzzing on the doorbell. But, no matter how much he called for her, she did not answer. He also tried calling her, but it never answered. He even texted her every five minutes, but she still wouldn’t answer and it was not marked as “Read”. Where was she!? He was starting to get impatient.

He tried texting her one more time, if she did not answer he will have to start looking for her. Thankfully, not to long after, she finally texted him back.

[ TXT ]: Sorry Gill! I was with a friend! I’m on my way, I’ll be there in about five minutes. I’m really sorry!

At least she was okay, that’s was what he was worried about the most, after all. She probably didn’t pay attention to the time. He couldn’t really blame her, it was very normal. Even he does that with Rony, sometimes.

Either way, he waited for about seven minutes instead of five. But, it was fine, he didn’t expect her to arrive exactly five minutes either. Despite being impatient, he managed to put it aside and wait. He could see her in the distance, running towards his direction, looking out of breath. When she finally reached him, she was panting heavily.

*You okay? You didn’t have to run like that. “I-I’m… fine… thanks. I just… didn’t want to…” she tried to talk, despite panting. *Okay, okay, just breathe. You don’t need to worry about that. It’s fine. He reassures her, so she could catch her breath. “O-okay…”

She took a moment to catch her breath. He wondered if she ran from all the way from her friend to here, but be didn’t want to ask, he might scold her for it. Thankfully, though, she did not, however, the bus stop was pretty far away from her house and because she missed the bus she did run from the stop to her house. After finally starting to breathe normally, she speaks up again.

“A-anyway, sorry I’m late! I-I kinda… didn’t pay attention to the time… s-sorry.” she apologized again, quickly searching for her keys. *It’s fine, Yumi. I’m not angry, am I? he asked rhetorically. “N-no, but…”

There was a pause. If he had eyebrows one would be raised curiously. Yumi was acting a little strange, she seemed nervous, more so than usual. Not to mention shyer. He thought of jokingly asking if she suddenly fell for him, today, but that would be a bit inappropriate. Besides, he knows very well that’s not the case. He hesitates to ask as he watched her finally finding her keys and unlocking her door.

*Did somethin’ happen, Yumi? You look a bit flustered. he chuckles. “W-what!? N-no, nothing happened!” she nervously denies.

An obvious lie, no one would’ve believed it with a reaction like that. He suspects that it might have something to do with the friend she was with earlier. He doesn’t think anything bad happened, but he was curious. Who wouldn’t be? However, before he could even ask her, he was caught off by her.

“C-come on! We can talk inside!” she pushes him to go upstairs, shouting. *Okay, okay! You don’t need to push me. he chuckles.

Despite not looking at her, he could hear her sigh behind him. Now, he’s seriously getting really curious.

They talked for a while, about nothing and everything. How they were doing in life, things that happened when they were away from each other and what friends they made along the way. Of course, the conversation had to derive to talking about Rony. They were mutual friends and Yumi became friends with her after her horrid accident that caused her to lose one of her ribs. That particular topic was skimmed over quickly, as they both felt nothing but disgust and wrath for the being that did this. They didn’t want to bring the mood down. But Gill didn’t want it to go on about his stupid crush for her either!

*Come on! cAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT REALLY EMBARRASSIN’ SHIT! “Aheheehehahah! But, it’s fun, though! You’re all blue!” she giggles. *HHHHH! You did on purpose didn’t you? “Yep! But, seriously, though, tell me when! And how! And why!” *Nooo… he whines. “Yeeeees!” she laughs. *Hhhhhhh… fine, but… to be honest, I’m not sure when or how… for the why well… hhhhhh. he was too embarrassed to finish.

There was a pause. He couldn’t look at her when he was talking but, he took a glace at her when he paused and regretted it immediately. She had an enthusiastic smile, excitement and loud curiosity was oosing out of her face. That child-like excitement, it’s been a long time since he hasn’t seen that. He had to hold back a smile, however, his even deeper flush could not be avoided. She, of course, noticed his reaction but, not for the right reasons. She thought he was just being a huge dork because his obvious crush.

*… W-Why do you even want to know, anyway? he asks, before saying what she wanted to hear. “Because! It’s-… I-I um…”

There was a brief pause, as she shyly scratches the back of her head, realizing what she was about to say kinda sounded embarrassing. However, the hesitation didn’t last long and she gave him a warm smile.

“I-I’m just… really happy that you found someone else. That you got over me… and forgave me too.”

Why did it hurt when she said that? He felt like his soul was twisting a bit.

“I-I was… I was scared that… t-that I-I ruined… e-everything for you. Because I did something so… h-hurful… e-even if I d-didn’t mean to… I-I’m sorry…”

She started sniffling a little, tears started to swell up and fall. It broke his soul to see her like this, still regretful for what she did, despite them having a long talk about it and him completely getting over it. He wanted to reach out to her.

*… Yumi- “I-I’m fine, I’m fine. S-sorry…” she apologizes again, wiping her tears. *No, don’t be. Listen, it’s fine, okay? You don’t need to worry about that anymore. Besides, I’ve done way more stupider shit than you to Rony and I still don’t understand how she still puts up with me. he chuckles.

She chuckles a bit too. However, he thought she was laughing at his semi-joke, when, in reality, it was because “If only he knew”.

*Tell you what… I’ll answer all of your questions, if you tell me what happened with that “friend” of yours. he grins. “W-what??” she almost shouted, bursting red.

He laughed, with only that reaction, he could definitely confirm that her “friend” was indeed the cause of her being strangely flustered, earlier.

*So…? Is that a deal? he grins. “… W-why… why are y-you so suddenly interested in my love-life a-anyway?” *So, you’re datin’? he leans in, his grin wider.

Her eyes widened out of shock and her expression immediately turned into regret. She was even redder than before, covering her mouth. Her and her big mouth. Stupid, stupid! At, this point she didn’t have any choice but to reveal everything.

“W-Well, a-actually, we haven’t exactly dated yet… w-we just confessed… t-today.” she explained. *… Ooh. That explains a lot. “Y-yeah…” *So… what’s he like? he asks, genuinely curious. “U-um… w-well…”

She briefly explain, with a lot of hesitation, how much of a dork Swap was. He was a huge nerd, overall sweet guy and pretty cute too, being so short kind of boosts this fact. Howerver, she knew he could be pretty sarcastic, overconfident and sassy, at times. He has a lot of issues and things he regrets doing too but, above it all, he tries his best to improve. That’s what she loves the most about him.

“Aaah! I-I r-really ranted to much! S-sorry! That w-was really e-embarrassing…” she hid her face with her hand, completely red. *Eheheh, that’s fine. Why did it hurt so much? It didn’t help that this all seemed somehow familiar, like he knew someone or… something similar to how she described him. However, he managed to hide his emotions with a smile.

*But… this kinda sounds familiar. “It does? Maybe you-”

Oh, fuck. She just remembered. This was why she didn’t want to talk about it in the first place! Swap is-… he’s-

“Shit… I-I just remembered… p-please don’t be mad, o-okay?” *…? Why would I be mad? he tilts his head. “B-Because I-… S-Swap, he’s-…” *He’s…? “…”

This was only making him worry even more. At first, he thought maybe she was overreacting but, now he thought that maybe he might actually get mad. He didn’t want to push her for an answer, however, as she seemed to already be gathering her courage to do so.

“He’s… f-from an a-alternate universe… h-he’s a Sans… I-I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing those words, it echoed endlessly in his mind, causing him to feel nautiously dizzy. It was both our of anger and the actual side effect it caused every time someone would utter either or “their” names. Sure, he didn’t sound like the Sans “they” knew, not Gaster or even just G, himself, but… He couldn’t help but feel almost… betrayed or replaced. Seeing that he looked very out of it, she tried to reach out for him.

“G, a-are you-” *Don’t touch me!

He got up from the sofa, both avoiding and pushing her hand away.

He wanted to leave. Before he lashed out, before he lost his composure. Despite feeling almost enraged and hurt, he didn’t want to do the same thing he did with Rony.

He wanted to leave. He started heading for the door, she didn’t even stop him, she didn’t even say anything. However, he could hear her trying not to make a sound, as she started to cry silently. She knew it would’ve hurt him, she deserved this, didn’t she? She was a horrible friend, always ruining things between them, wasn’t she? However, a sniffle and a sob escaped her mouth. He stopped his tracks, halfway opening the door.

*… I don’t hate you, okay? I just… I need some time to think... I’m sorry.

He closed the door behind him, teleporting back to his apparment. He wasn’t going to do anything for the rest of the day. Maybe tomorrow too, depending on how he feels by then. Why couldn’t he just have normal friendships with no drama?

#drabble #drawn-to-space #g!sans #gill sans #yumi kizui #angst

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