#killing it

Itadori Yuji and Fushiguro Megumi, anime vs manga, Episode 49: One More Time; Chapter 143. (Adding that touchy-feely moment because these two needed that connection.)

You can't hide someone's true nature, he was born to perform and I'm glad he shines and tries his best in a not ideal situation

I ROOT FOR YOU JIMIN 😭😭😭✊🏻✊🏻✊🏻✊🏻

I hope he can have fun and dance however he wants

He is so stunning lately like wtf 😭

Jimin I love you. I cheer you on. I drink all your moves and words like a drug.

KEEP GOING MY ANGEL 💜

Breathtaking!

You weren’t expecting to see him on your doorstep.

It had been a year—twelve months, three weeks, and some change since you and J-Hope had broken up. Since the last fight, the last tears, the final, painful silence. You’d both moved on—or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But there he was. Holding a bouquet of sunflowers, standing on your porch like the ghost of a memory you still dreamed about way too often.

“Hoseok,” you said flatly.

He smiled nervously. “Hey.”

You crossed your arms, leaning on the doorframe. “You’re lucky I didn’t slam the door.”

“I probably deserve it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I was hoping you’d hear me out.”

You said nothing, just stepped aside and let him in.

The sunflowers landed on your kitchen counter. He stayed standing.

“I’m shooting a new video,” he said. “It’s called Killing It Girl. The concept’s intense—passion, fire, chemistry. It needs to feel real. Raw.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And?”

“You’re the only one I want to dance it with.”

You blinked. Laughed, once—sharp. “So you ghost me for a year, and now you want me to star in a sexy duet with you?”

He winced. “I didn’t ghost you. We broke up. We were both hurting.”

“Still hurting,” you muttered, then sighed. “Is this why you came? Business?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Not just business. But also… yeah. I need you for this. No one moves like you do. No one feels it like you.”

You hesitated. You wanted to say no. God, you should’ve said no.

But dance had always been your language with him. And maybe part of you still wanted to hear what he wasn’t saying with words.

“…Fine.”

⸻

Practice was hell.

He wouldn’t look at you for more than two seconds. You flinched every time your hands touched. The tension in the room was so thick it could’ve snapped.

But the choreography was magic—close, intimate, sharp and soft in all the right places. You remembered how well your bodies moved together, how much of your style he’d soaked in over the years, and how he always made you feel like the floor belonged to you.

Still, you didn’t speak more than necessary. Not until the shoot.

⸻

The music video shoot was… electric.

The cameras rolled. The bass dropped. And suddenly the world faded.

It was just the two of you—sweat-slicked skin, bodies twisting, breath catching, gazes locking and holding just a second too long. Every move hit harder than in rehearsal. Every close-up burned.

His hand gripped your waist like he remembered every inch. Your fingers tangled in his hair in the final pose like you couldn’t help yourself.

And when the music stopped, you both stayed in place, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.

“Cut!” someone yelled. Applause broke out. The crew was ecstatic.

But all you saw was him.

⸻

Later, backstage

He found you sitting on a bench, still in costume, your body buzzing from adrenaline and emotion.

“You killed it,” he said softly.

You glanced up. “So did you.”

He sat beside you. Silence stretched.

“I didn’t think this would hit me so hard,” he admitted. “But dancing with you again? I remembered why I fell in love with you in the first place.”

You looked down at your hands. “Hoseok…”

“I messed up,” he said. “I let the pressure, the schedule, everything get in the way. But losing you was the worst thing I’ve ever felt. And seeing you today—feeling you dance with me like that—I know I still love you.”

You turned to him, eyes glassy. “I was so angry. I still am, sometimes. But the way we moved today… it felt like home.”

He reached for your hand, pinky brushing yours. “Can we try again? No pressure. No perfection. Just… us.”

You nodded slowly. “We already killed it once today. Might as well keep going.”

He smiled, the kind that crinkled his eyes and made your heart ache.

And when he kissed you, it wasn’t awkward or rushed.